Take your loafers off, remove your cowboy hat, unclasp your nipple rings, put your porn-filled laptop directly on the conveyor belt, and look less Middle Eastern. These are just a few of the directions given by the folks at airport security these days. However, the most important measure—the one that’s primary effect keeps travelers from getting drunk before takeoff—is the “no outside liquids or open containers over three ounces” protocol. But as I found out on my last flight from L.A. to Chicago, there’s at least one way to bypass this rule.
As we began out descent into Chicago, the kind, old woman next to me pulled a clear plastic toiletry bag from her purse. Being the curious mind that I am, I couldn’t help but sneak a peek as she retrieved and placed on her lap something that men have been denying the existence of for years: a tube of Vagisil. Of course, my initial reaction was, Grooooooooss, old lady vagina. But after that moment passed, I took notice of the volume of the container. This was not travel Vagisil. This was value pack, long-term commitment Vagisil. It was at least as long as a standard tube of toothpaste, somewhere around eight ounces. Shit was full, too. The end hadn’t been rolled up or anything. She was a pro—a seasoned veteran in the arena of Vagisil usage. I digressed: Groooooooooss, old lady vagina.
The truly disturbing thing (not to me, but to those that believe a commercial aircraft can be brought down or hijacked using a three ounce liquid) is that a container of that size made it on to the plane. Perhaps it was a mistake by the TSA, in which case they deserve a stern warning, but I would guess it had more to do with a male security agent not wanting to look at, touch, or discuss the more than likely harmless tube of Vagisil.
I’m sure the guy working the x-ray scanner saw it and thought to himself, Alright, consider this, Gary. Worst case scenario, this old bag of bones is the most dubious terrorist in the history of the United States and somewhere between a couple hundred and a few thousand people die from her attack. Or, she simply has persistent vaginal odor that… *gags*… okay, just move her along. For the rest of the day he actually felt thankful that the worst part of his job is racially profiling men wearing turbans.
So there you have it. Vagisil has the power to elude airport security, aid in terrorist plots, and relief odors caused by vaginal yeast build-up… *shudders*… gross.
My name is t.j. and I fear this blog will put me on the No Fly List.