Detroit, Detroit, Detroit – always going to Detroit these days!
Once again I started my trip off with a stop at Austin’s “Top This” to pick up my new wig that I was having trimmed there. Bonnie, the manager, took care of me personally and I’ve got to tell you that I really like that lady. She is very friendly, a nice lady, and cute too with sort of blue highlights in her hair. Now my only problem is that I’m not sure I like the darn wig itself. I just can’t get it to look good on my own, and the thing is MUCH hotter than my favorite wig that I am trying to replace. I was reasonably pleased with the way Bonnie got it to look, but I didn’t have much luck in replicating her results on my own later on. I’m hoping that it is just a question of my learning how to work with this wig and that I haven’t wasted yet another $200. Sigh . . .
Making my way to the Delta airlines counter to check in, I was feeling hot and less than confident in the new wig. While it has a much softer feel than my old wig, it has a lot more hair, and so it is much hotter. Add to that the fact that the bangs kept poking me in the eyes, and you have a recipe for my feeling a complete lack of confidence as I approached the counter. I hadn’t even sat my bags down when my favorite Delta service rep waved me forward.
“Good morning Matt, how are you?” She asked with a genuine smile.
“I’m fine thanks! How are you doing?”
“I’m well, thank you. So did you have a good holiday?”
“Sure, except that I ate far too much Turkey and stuff!” I told her.
“Well, this year I just had Chicken.” She told me with a disappointed tone of voice.
“Well that sucks!”
“I know! I went to Luby’s for dinner and it was just terrible. Normally I like Luby’s, but this time it was awful.” She told me.
“You know, you would think that if there was one day a restaurant should get it right, it would be Thanksgiving!” I commiserated with her.
“By the way, y’all have got my name down pat. Do you mind giving me yours?” I asked. She smiled and pointed to her name tag, then realized that it had been covered up.
“Mona,” she said. “Ramona really, but everyone calls me Mona.”
“Well thanks! I was just kind of wondering, because since the start you have been one of the nicest folks that I’ve dealt with.” I told her with a smile.
I placed my things on the xray belt and had just turned to face the metal detector when the TSA inspector gives me one look and turns to call out behind him.
‘What the hell?’ I was thinking to myself. I haven’t set off any alarms and they didn’t flag me for a random inspection. Why the hell is he calling for someone to inspect me? Since they were gonna inspect me anyway, I didn’t bother taking out my ear rings, so as I headed through the metal detector, he and the alarm sounded off at the same time.
“Miss, if you will just step over here . . .” “BEEP” goes the metal detector. . . “ and wait a moment, someone will be right with you.”
In less than a minute, a young lady in a TSA uniform steps up to me.
“Have you been through the new screening process yet?” she asks me with a professional smile.
“Yup, a couple of times now.”
“OK then! If you will stand with your feet shoulder width apart, and your arms out to your side . . . “
She then proceeded to run her hands down the outside of my legs, all over my chest area, and then even patted down my wig.
“Ok, if you will now place one foot out in front of you, I’m going to run my hands up the inside of your legs until I meet resistance.” I couldn’t help myself and started to laugh.
“ ‘Meet resistance’ huh?” I said with a giggle. “That’s a cute way of saying it.”
“I’m sorry?” she asked, apparently not getting my sarcasm. Then I made things worse.
“You know, I don’t care what they told you, I didn’t do it. Honest!” I told her with a grin. She still didn’t get the fact that I was trying to be funny and make her smile.
“Would you prefer to be screened in private?” she asked me nicely, completely skipping over my failed attempt at humor.
“No, I’m fine if your fine.” I replied, and stuck my leg out as she had requested. She had not exaggerated – she did run her hands up the inside of my leg until she ‘met resistance’ and by the time she was done, I was blushing from head to toe.
“So what prompted my personal inspection?” I asked her as she was handing me my things.
“It was your long skirt. We have to be sure that there is nothing hidden under it.” She replied.
“Hmmm. So it’s short skirts from now on?” I laughed.
“That or pants!” She said with a grin.
Yeah, like THAT’S gonna happen . . .
As I walked away from the check point, I couldn’t help but think of all the innuendos that could be applied.
“Jeeze, I need a cigarette. . .”
“Do you think she’ll call me, or was I just a fling for her?”
“I wonder if it was as good for her as it was for me? Probably not, after all, I just kind of stood there . . . “
Bad Kim, BAD Kim!