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Ch-Ch-Changes
This is no longer the case. This time I emptied my pockets, took off my watch and tossed my keys into the little blue French fry basket. I beeped. I stepped out of my shoes, rechecked my pockets and dumped my wallet. I beeped, again. I stepped back through and concentrated on not beeping. I imagined my aura as a dull, brown smudge that blocked all shiny things from emanating from my body. I persisted in beeping. I was ushered toward a very short, very harried woman wielding a wand. I stretched out my arms and thought dull thoughts. I did not want to be stripped searched at 4:30 in the morning. She waved the wand over me, her eyes focused on a spot just over my left shoulder and the light went red and the wand beeped. She looked at me and said the two words I never want to hear from a bored, 53 year-old, Phillipino woman at 4:30 in the morning in the middle of the airport with a beeping wand hovering over my tits, "your underwire." Life goes on, no matter who does what to whom. The sun comes up in the East, sets in the West, babies are born, tides rise and fall and my ample chestle area causes a public disturbance. Previous | END
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