Hot on the heels of  TSA Agent Thedala Magee demand for half a mil from Amy Alkon, Elie Mystal from  Above The Law played two minutes in heaven with TSA agents of his own.

After going through the full-body scanner (note: this is my only reference to the essentially naked pictures the TSA is allowed to take of anybody with the impudence to travel by air), I’m told to wait while the TSA lady looks for a TSA man to fondle me. Apparently this is because of “low resolution” on my scan. This is minute one of embarrassment, as all the other passengers scuttle by me with the “thank God I’m not that guy” look.

Two men appear, and I’m told to accompany them to the private screening room. I’m already waddling around with no belt and no shoes, so this has all the dignity of a perp walk. Which is exactly what it is — you’re being accused of something, and don’t have a chance to defend yourself. I ask them to just re-scan me. The men ignore my request, and beckon me to follow them. “Stay calm,” I think.

The private screening room looks about as safe as the back of a van of a pedophile. I’m in this box with two dudes, thinking about how my mother has warned me about getting trapped in this situation since I was five.

Nothing untoward yet.  Just the price we pay for living in a free society, where the collective welfare trumps any individual’s feelings.  Notably, it’s not that Elie refused to get scanned, but something aroused suspicion.

I haven’t been in the room 30 seconds, but I’m consumed with how not free I am. I can’t leave; I can’t even roll my eyes. The guy explains to me why he “has to” touch my crotch. In any other American situation, this is where the bargaining would happen. “No officer, please don’t do that, I’ll flip instead.” You’re supposed to have choices in America. But in this situation, there’s nothing you can do to stop this from happening. You could be sitting on information about an active terror plot to destroy the whole airport; they’re still going to touch your crotch.

(If I seem fascinated with my crotch, it’s because they are fascinated with my crotch. It’s the only thing they talk about before they start touching you.)

One of the problems of knowing a little bit about the law works is reaching the undeniable recognition that you are now separate from the rest of the world and in the absolute control of another. 

The other touches are perfunctory. Once under your arms, once down your arms. Your chest and belly are rolled over like they spilled something on you and are trying to help you dry. They slap you on the ass like you just hit a double (more on that later). But when they get to your inner thigh and crotch, they act like they’ve found the only place on the human body that has ever been used to smuggle anything. I could have smuggled a moob-sized bomb under my shirt, but the TSA guys know whether or not I shave my balls.

The strangest thing was the testicle search. During the explanation phase, the dude said he would place his hand on my inner thigh and run it up into my crotch and “lift and separate” my testicles, three times on each leg. Now, I couldn’t hide a third testicle between my other two without it being really obvious. What weapon could I possible wedge up in there that would require six touches to detect?

At the 1:30 mark in the private room, I make my only mistake. During the third and final vertical pass across my shaft, TSA guy “Zed” says: “You can relax, sir.”

No rape.  No permanent trauma. No PTSD.  Flying society is now safe from any potential threat lurking in Elie’s pants.  But enjoying his few minutes alone with the TSA, Elie urges that everyone, every flyer, every public official, every judge, enjoy the same experience.

I think we need a new rule. I think that everybody should have to go through a TSA private screening every time they fly. Why should most of us regular people, and nearly all the decision makers, be relatively oblivious to this new form of big government? If it’s so damn important, why not let everybody get in on the fun? We’d be safe! At least from any crotch-based airline attacks.

Either we’d all get used to it, or judges and governmental officials would remember that we have rules that we put into our Constitution specifically designed to stop this kind of gross excess of government power.

If the federal bench is going to allow American citizens to be molested, it should at least have some skin in the game.

At least just once.  After all, nothing matter until it touches someone’s life.