Thursday, March 28, 2013

Stone Cut From the Mountain

I'm not quite sure how to say this with any grace or dignity, so I'm just going to say it.

I have buns of steel.

I'm not saying this to "brag," or to infer that this is good or bad... it's simply a fact. I think I was just born with this characteristic, with an assist from lots of activity over the years. At times my glutes have been a major asset to me. In college, word got around and they became a bit of a party trick. Girls would literally line up on occasion to give them a feel. I didn't mind this activity. At other times they've been a major liability. Yesterday going through security at the Charlotte airport was one such example. I stood in the high-tech security thing (the highly controversial one in which they essentially see you in your birthday suit) and assumed the position. 

As I walked out, the following conversation took place:

Security Guy: "Sir, do you have something in your back pocket?"

Me: "Oh yeah, my wallet" (as I take it out)

SG: "Sir, I need to pat down your buttocks"

Me: "Uh, ok" (I instinctively flex as this dude starts groping me)

SG: "Sir, do you have anything else in your pockets?"

Me: "No sir"

SG: "Sir are you concealing something?"

Me "No sir"

To make a long story short, I eventually showed them I didn't have anything else in my pockets. They did some test on my hands to check for traces of explosives. After passing that, I was on my way. Crazy times.

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