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The Airport
2004-05-13 | 10:22 a.m.

I have a real love-hate relationship with the airport. Like yesterday, I was walking through the airport, thumbing my nose and strutting my stuff when a crowd of lovely flight attendants came up and wanted to accompany me to the restroom. I playfully declined and just led them through the terminal, giving them the time of their lives, before I accepted the invitation to the restroom and really gave them the time of their lives. After 7 flight attendants, 7 cigarettes, and 8 minutes had passed they announced the final boarding call for my flight. Thus ends my love relationship with the airport, and begins my hate relationship.

After getting stopped at security for the sharp object I carry on top of my head, and the awesomeness that oozes from me at the X-ray machine I became slightly annoyed. They also didn�t understand how I could walk so easily with 3 legs. Anyway, when I got to the end of the line, as usual the female attendant had to have a body cavity search. I remarked at how odd it was for me to be searching her, but it was not appreciated. I begged and pleaded to be allowed to use rubber gloves, and to my dismay wasn�t allowed. Then my request to use my hands for the cavity search was denied. All in all it was a grim trip, but at least I am still awesome.



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