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Testicle Toss Anyone?
A "secondary search" by the TSA of a San Diego woman turned out to be a demand to cop a feel. A government-approved demand, to boot. Jeff Ristine writes in the San Diego Union-Tribune that the TSA is now requiring their employees to feel beneath, between, and above women's breasts:

Now Ava Kingsford wants other women to know just how uncomfortable the "secondary screening" process can become.

Kingsford, 36, was traveling back to San Diego from Denver International Airport with her 3-month-old son when she was flagged for a pat-down search, possibly because of an expired driver's license.

She took the procedure in stride until the female Transportation Security Administration screener announced, "I'm going to feel your breasts now."

Kingsford, wearing a snug-fitting tank top, objected to what she considered an unduly invasive search. More security agents arrived, warned her that she couldn't board her flight without submitting to the final step of the search, and the situation escalated.

"I was crying; I was shaking," she said. And just after she tugged down the top of her shirt just a bit to show that she wasn't hiding anything, the agents told her she wasn't going anywhere. She ended up renting a car for a two-day drive home.

"It was unbelievable," Kingsford said. "I think there is a line they cannot cross."

But Transportation Security Administration officials say their screeners did nothing wrong and that Kingsford's experience reflects a brutal new reality in passenger checkpoint screening.

The agency announced the extra security measures Sept. 16, just a few weeks after two Russian jetliners exploded in midair, killing all aboard. Authorities believe two women smuggled explosives onto the aircraft, possibly in "torso packs" underneath their clothing.

The last thing I want is some big, ugly stranger at the airport grabbing my boobs. Gross! That said, I have less of a problem flashing them some tit in the name of national security. Look, don't touch, and please slip your dollar bill under my bra strap when you're done.

Hmmm...what's next? Body cavity search? They close down the dingy sex dens in downtown Manhattan and other urban areas across the country -- and reopen them in bright, fluorescent light at the airports? What will your response be when they ask to grab your balls (and surely they will, in the name of sexual fairness in bomb searches), or stick a flashlight "where the sun don't shine"?

(boob feel-up link via Reason's blog)

Posted by aalkon at October 30, 2004 7:57 AM


Make them bite. Tuck Lucy under them.

Posted by: Doug at October 30, 2004 11:15 AM

"Testicle Toss"

Is that what they call it when you gag while you're teabagging someone?

Posted by: Lena Tetley at October 30, 2004 2:17 PM

In this situation, I'd take off my shirt and show them my tits, and if a whole bunch of other people in the airport happened to see, well, tough, I've got a plane to catch.

Posted by: nancy at October 30, 2004 8:41 PM

Yeah, I'm thinking -- the defence, for a reasonably well-endowed woman, is to go to the airport obviously bra-free. "Think they'd jiggle like this if they were 'pigs'?"

Posted by: Stu "El Ingls" Harris at October 31, 2004 8:02 AM

The search procedure was entirely appropriate. They just had the wrong country and the wrong nationality. Guys, it was Russia and a Chechen black widows operation. You combine the worst of bureaucratic nanny nonsense with the worst of political no profiling correctness, you will create this ridiculous breast search of a San Diego soccer mom. Thanks to all the loonies on both ends of the spectrum for keeping us safe from all those weeping mommies with kids in tow.

Posted by: allan at October 31, 2004 9:53 AM

I'm with Nancy. I'll flash 'em -- and maybe turn around and give the crowd a peek -- but you can't touch 'em. As long as they're operating a sex club/strip club in the airport, they should provide a pole, don't you think?

Posted by: Amy Alkon at October 31, 2004 10:07 AM

Back in the summer of 1980 or 1981, I was in Ireland and needed to catch a plane to London. Unfortunately, I chose to travel just a few days after the IRA had blown up Lord Montbatten's yacht. Security at the Belfast airport took one look at my denim-clad, backpack-toting 19-year-old ass and said, "Step over to the side, young man." The frisking between my legs was no big deal. It was the fact that they looked through my journal that made me want to die. Anyone who kept a journal as a teenager knows the kind of pabulum that the cops got to snicker over that afternoon. It was horrifying.

Posted by: Lena McWeena at October 31, 2004 7:28 PM

At least they've now decided that women no longer have to drink their own milk before being declared no threat to the Republic.

Posted by: Stu "El Ingls" Harris at November 1, 2004 8:06 AM