Not only is my plane two hours late, so I have to cool my heels for four hours in the desolate International Terminal of O’Hare, but, though clean as a whistle, I was grabbed by TSA after the Full Body Scan and given the Goosing Treatment. That meant a preliminary explanation by the agent about how he was going to palpate my buttocks with the back of his hands, and then the full Buttock Groping and the up-and-down-the-leg treatment as well. This time it was even more embarrassing than my previous goosing incidents (I declined the search in a private room). And, of course, they found nothing: I had neither a wallet nor anything else in my pockets.
Oh, and they decided to swab my hands, too.
I have no metal implants or anything else suspicious. Why you do this to me, TSA?