Excuse me, sir? Sir? Yes, you. I’d appreciate it if you just stepped right on over this way for me. Step into this screening area. No, not screening like “here’s Iron Man 4 and you’ve been selected for a special advance screening.” Screening like I feel a little funny about you, and we’re about to sort out my feelings. Look, pal, it’s not like I have deep-seated issues ingrained in my psyche as a result of my abuse-riddled childhood. I just need to make sure you’re a 100 percenter. That means you’re 100% good for America. It’s for the greater good.
Alright, maybe I came on a bit too strong. I really don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. This is about safety. You’ve seen the papers. Can you really blame these people for wanting to feel safe? And you, Mr. man with a beard, have an obligation to these people. When they see me give you the ol’ yankeroo, they think, “That’s the TSA looking out for me. They know a shady man when they see one. Look at me, for example! I have no beard!” And they stroke their baby-smooth cheeks with confidence, secure in the knowledge that they’d never try to blow up a plane.
Look, pal! I’m not saying YOU are going to blow up a plane! You seem like a pretty nice guy! If anything, this is a testament to your character. And mine! If I wasn’t a man of character, I’d probably let you walk on through, and leave all these poor white beardless people with a sinking suspicion that SOMEONE has beaten the system. SOMEONE grew a beard, and obscured their Al-Qaedesque visage, and waltzed right through these carefully-arranged PVC pipes painted to look like metal detectors. Well, I’m not gonna let that happen. Yep, I’m talking to YOU, Mr. Beardy. Time for a shave and a haircut. And guess what? It won’t even cost you two bits.
But you will have to spread your legs, raise your arms above your head, and loosen your pants. Do that, please. Imma pat down.