Why am I the one who has to carry the marital aid through airport security? I’m not the one who needs it. Hell, I don’t even need Kellie’s company on my own personal pleasure journey. I’m perfectly capable of handling my own travel arrangements, and when I travel alone, I can arrive anytime I please, though I do prefer it when Kellie gives me a ride.
On more than a few occasions, the TSA agent has spotted something suspicious in my luggage, triggering a public search of my carryon bag. I think they do it for the entertainment value. You can’t tell me that they don’t x-ray at least a thousand pocket rockets a day. Security agents know exactly what things look like and they are not dangerous unless you encounter severe turbulence and accidentally poke someone’s eye out. They just want to watch you cringe when they waive the damn thing around. Kellie could have purchased a nondescript beige appliance, but no, she had to choose the flaming red model with a cubic zirconia encrusted periphery that dazzles the eye and makes everyone’s head swivel trying to locate the source of brilliantly flashing light.
Beyond my periodic tuneup, we’ve set some ambitious goals for our Alaskan cruise. On those days when we don’t leave the ship for an excursion, we'll be doing morning and afternoon workouts; there will be no pigging-out at the buffet trough, and we’ll both be doing some reading. I’ve selected three light pieces for myself: the August edition of Foreign Affairs,
The Submerged State: How Invisible Government Policies Undermine American Democracy,
and Why Does the World Exist?: An Existential Detective Story.
Kellie didn’t bring any books so I’ve made a selection for her, something a little deeper than pulp I’ve chosen for myself. She’ll be reading Fifty Shades of Grey.
I downloaded the entire trilogy for her a few weeks ago after her friend Melissa sent her a text about the book. Melissa was so captivated by the story that she sat in bed reading till almost two in the morning. After finally putting the book down, she jerked her husband up for a little late night literary romp. David welcomed his wife’s new nocturnal energy and enthusiasm, but the benefit was short lived. Melissa finished the entire trilogy in less than a week. Luckily for me, Kellie is a slow reader.
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Another post for the dudes at Dude Write.
I love reading your posts!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Emma. Now you just have to teach me how to get my numbers up like yours.
DeleteAnother fun post. I always go through my wife's carry-ons before heading to the airport because she always has a small set of scissors with her. She tells me she's removed them, but the security people always pull her out of line and produce the scissors and wait for an explanation. She says she removed them...but another pair miraculously manages to show up.
ReplyDeleteI was the one who carried something through security. Actually was not picked up by the TSA but our CATSA. Rather embarrassing.
ReplyDeleteTSA just loves me, don't know why but if they are pulling someone out of line I am usually among the lucky ones who get to play spread eagle.
ReplyDeleteSome of them are just dandy folks.
So funny it ends up in your luggage! Thanks for the laugh!
ReplyDeleteI wish Irishman was as easy to wake up in the middle of the night. Pfffft
ReplyDeleteWe got you posted up at Dude Write.
ReplyDeleteAnd now that I had time to read it, great fun. I hear that undermine book is a juicy page turner that will have you feeling randy in no time.
ReplyDeleteSomething tells me your wife doesn't need Fifty Shades of Grey :)
ReplyDeleteMy wife keeps saying she is gonna read 50 Shades...what the is she waiting for!?
ReplyDeleteI loved the mental picture of the security waving around the red, jewel encrusted dildo asking "would you mind explaining this sir?" Too funny.
ReplyDeleteIt's all fine at the airport until someone says those three little words, "body cavity search"!
ReplyDelete