Irradiated by Stingray
Now that the stupidest part of the year is well upon us, I have a request for those of you who must endure the bullshit that is air travel in the US this season.
If the blue-gloved stasi at the metal detector/lookey-loo machine tries to touch you, insist on fresh gloves.
In my wildest moments of optimism*, I can hope that this will catch on like gangbusters and be a lever applied at the fulcrum of budget as the demand for more and more gloves skyrockets, and the TSA comes crumbling down and joy returns to the land and nobody demands papers please and….
Yeah, and maybe I’ll get that letter of marque, too.
More realistically, you’ll at least have the peace of mind that the dimwitted goon about to grope you didn’t just grope Brittni Ambir’s active herpes outbreak ’cause hey, look at the cans on that one huh with the same gloves, and cause them some annoyance in the process.
*Usually called “christ, cheer up once in a while would you?” by friends