Jaunted

Opting-Out

Anyways, we nearly didn’t qualify for the scan—the line we queued in went through the normal x-ray machine. But at the last minute, as we were about to unload our stuff onto the belt, a TSA person picked us out of the line and asked us to join the backscatter line. What can we say? Maybe he wanted to see us naked for a giggle.

So we unloaded our stuff onto the other belt, and told him we actually wanted a pat-down. He looked annoyed, but didn’t chastise us like the last time. We had to wait for a few people to go through the scanner and then we had a female TSA agent take us aside.

Meanwhile, there was an issue with our bag, so another TSA agent—the one on belt duty—had to stand by our bag and hold onto it while we had our pat-down, because he’s not allowed to open it without our permission or something. If you were traveling through LAX that day, we apologize for making you wait, because having him out of duty bodyguarding our bag must have added five minutes to everyone’s journey.

The public portion of the pat-down

Onto the pat-down. Ms TSA asked if we were ok having it done in front of everyone, we said sure, unless you’re going to make us take our clothes off. She looked unamused and said no, there would be no stripping. Then she talked through what she was going to do— like the last agent did during our un-enhanced pat-down a month or so ago. Except she said something that had passed us by in all the hysteria about pat-downs—she would use the front of her hands everywhere except sensitive areas. Ie, boobies and nether regions would only get the back of her hand. No different from the old pat-down.

It started well. We spread our legs and smiled at Mr TSA babysitting our bag as she did our arms, legs and torso. No harassment in the boobie area. It was still way less gropey than pat-downs we’ve had in the UK. But then she frowned and said she was going to have to take us into another room because she had to inspect our waistband (we were wearing leggings under a dress) and for that we needed to hike up our dress. Guess we spoke to soon about the no stripping thing.

Being taken to a private room

Except the room had someone else in it, so we had to wait. In the meantime, we suggested, maybe we could clear the baggage issue, so TSA man could go back to work. They agreed. They searched our bag, found nothing, ran it through the scanner, searched it again, found nothing. We asked what they were looking for because we might be able to point them in the right direction, they didn’t say, and then without finding what they were looking for (unless it was a packet of crackers) they cleared the bag to go through. Onto the pat-down.

Another lady TSA member accompanied us as a chaperone because we were going to get half stripped, which would have allayed our fears if we’d somehow got it into our heads that the original agent just wanted to touch our ladyjunk in more private surroundings. She was really friendly and made smalltalk. Even original TSA lady warmed up and cracked a smile.

She took the pat-down from the top again so we had a thorough going over. Then we had to suck in our stomach and lift our dress up to the waist so she could feel the waistband of our leggings. Not that the waistband was big enough to stash anything away in, but rules is rules.

Where the TSA agent's hands went

Now, we don’t remember every second of the pat-down because we were stressing about missing our plane (the whole thing added about 20 minutes to our security experience) but we’re pretty sure there was no patting of naughty bits. And to compare it to sexual assault or rape is a gross insult to anyone who’s ever been sexually assaulted. Get a grip people. Seriously, get a grip.

Yes, Ms TSA’s hands touched our skin as she was doing the waistband search. But a) she was wearing gloves and b) the only way she could have inspected our waistband without touching our body would have been to remove the leggings. Yes, she ran her hands up our legs until she met with resistance you know where, but it didn’t occur to us to feel assaulted; it was as clinical as the doctor’s office and lightning quick. And yes, the back of her hand is now intimate with our cup size, but you know what? We don’t care. There was no boob gropage, it was around, under and in between with the back of her hand. Nothing we haven’t had before, and nothing we wouldn’t expect from a pat-down. What we do care about is that she established that we weren't hiding a bomb in our bra. And of that we thoroughly approve.

Our feelings on our experience

Yes, there probably will be a few rotten apples within the thousands of TSA employees in the country, but from that enhanced pat-down that we experienced, it's not anything approaching sexual. They’re wearing gloves. It’s extremely quick—even when they are touching your junk, and it’s for a fraction of a second. Yeah, we were filled with English embarrassment when we had to whip out our leggings-clad booty, but then we realized that actually, Ms TSA had other things to worry about—like sticking her hands into our armpits, our bra and our cellulite – rather than having time to clock our fat ass. In fact, we’re pretty sure she got the worse deal out of it all. Do you really think she goes home and fantasizes about all the sweaty, stressed-out, over/underweight bodies she has to grope all day? No, we’re pretty sure she goes and has a good scrub down in the shower instead. Possibly a Silkwood Shower, if it's available.

In short, people, get a bloody grip. We’re not fans of the full-body scanners because personally we think they’re unnecessarily intrusive, don’t see how they’re more effective than the old machines, and think they’re a case of closing the door after the horse has bolted. But crying rape over the pat-downs is ridiculous.

The only thing we would say—if you're opting for a pat-down—is that you need to leave more time. Ours was extreme, but we can see this taking 15 minutes at busy times. Also, don't wear leggings. We're thinking tights would probably be ok, as there's not enough of a waistband to hide anything inside. But the leggings were the one thing that caused us time and embarrassment. Next time, we'll be in jeans.