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You ever try to impress the TSA by folding your boarding pass into a perfect origami swan? They don't care. They just stare at it like, "Sir, this is not a valid form of identification." Well, maybe it should be. If I can turn a boarding pass into a swan, I deserve first-class treatment.
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I love how the TSA agents have that poker face, as if they're guarding the secrets of the universe. Meanwhile, I'm trying to make eye contact like, "Can I at least get a smile for surrendering my privacy?
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The TSA is all about efficiency, but have you seen those lines during peak travel times? It's like waiting for the latest iPhone release. I half-expect someone to start selling snacks and charging stations.
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You ever notice how the TSA agents have this magical ability to make you feel guilty even when you have nothing to hide? I'm standing there, and they give me that look like I just smuggled a herd of wild animals in my suitcase. "Sir, do you have any liquids?" Yeah, just my tears from dealing with you guys.
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Ever notice how everyone suddenly becomes an expert packer in the security line? People are rearranging their bags like they're playing a game of Tetris. I'm there thinking, "If only I could fit my dignity in this carry-on.
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The TSA always has those signs that say, "Remove your shoes." Like, what kind of place am I entering? A nightclub or an airport? If I wanted to go barefoot, I'd stay home and save myself the hassle.
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The TSA loves to randomly select people for additional screening. I got chosen once. I felt like I won the reverse lottery. "Congratulations, sir! You've been selected for an intimate encounter with our state-of-the-art pat-down technique.
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They have those bins for your belongings, and they move faster than the speed of light. You blink, and your stuff is in another dimension. I'm just standing there in my socks, wondering if my dignity is in a bin somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle.
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You ever notice how the conveyor belt for the security scanner has a mind of its own? It's like a rebellious teenager. You put your stuff on, and it decides to take a nap mid-way. "Sorry, sir, we can't process your shoes today. They're on strike.
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