The Pat-down

When I was young, my father once referred to my chest as two golf balls on an ironing board. After childbirth, my look changed. The two golf balls morphed into something much larger. For many women, the opposite happens, but I’m never one to follow the crowd. There are some woman who would love my look (and some men who would love to look), but I consider my chest annoying. Why, you ask? It’s called the security pat-down at airports.

Long ago I learned to wear simple travel clothing and leave off the belts and jewelry until after going through security. No problem. Security was a breeze. Then came the installation of the body scanner at airports. Suddenly my minimizer bra was screaming for attention. My last two trips to the airport provided some early morning excitement – the pat-down. I was given a choice of a private pat-down or one in full view of the public. I’m all for safety in numbers so I took the full view of the public choice. (Everyone is too busy trying to get themselves through security to care about anyone else.) In Chicago, the TSA’s hands immediately went to my chest. A quick feel and that was it. When I left Boston, my bra really wanted to show off. I was not only given a full upper body pat-down which included underarms, chest, back and waist, but my hands were swabbed to check for explosive residue. Whoo-wee! What do they see in that body scan that makes them think I’m hiding something? Hey, nothing more can fit into that minimizer!

I’ve determined it’s the wire in the bra that prompts the pat-downs. I have two choices. On my next trip I wear no bra at all (God forbid!), or I find one that has no suspicious wiring in it. Embrace me, sports bra!

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3 Comments on “The Pat-down”

  1. Christine. Says:

    I sympathise with you. I, too, have that problem. The minimiser was a good invention but the bits it minimises goes elsewhere. 🙂


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