This thread would probably also be good for Security and also for AA Advantage, where the horrors of the MIA Airport are discussed at length. But think that gay men would have a much better appreciation for this and might not offended.

Anyway get to MIA last night for a late flight back to JFK and as soon as I get out of the cab the impact of drinking two venti Starbucks coffee are starting to kick in. But check in lines are long, even at the AA F/premium station, so decided to hold it in and check in first. Takes about 15-20 minutes. As usual the security line at Concourse D is out of control so I head down to Concourse E with the intent to go to the bathroom right past Concourse E and then head through Security.

Now to describe me, I am short about 5'7'' and about 145 pounds and while I may be small in stature there is one area not so small, which as a gay man is a good thing. Also I have a small 28 inch waist and I have low rise jeans on and they are a bit snug. I am not into the seat pants down to the back of your knees look and besides its tough to get baggy jeans in a waist 28.

So back to the story, got to go to the bathroom but there is absolutely no line at Concourse E so I go right up, put my bags and other items on the belt, walk through that puffer machine (no idea what it is intended to do but the pockets of air blowing onto you feels neat), and through the metal detector. The TSA agent looks down below my belt and asks me what is bulging out of my pockets. I reply what is suppose to be down there.

So he tells me to stay while he gets a supervisor. Supervisor tells him to pat me down, down there. So TSA asks me if I want to do in private or if there is ok; tell him here is ok, lets just get it done (I ready to float a river by now). Well, the TSA agent just cannot seem to put his hand on the situation (pun fully intended) and tells supervisor he can't clear me. So supervisor tells me that they must do a "visual" inspection. So I collect my carry on, quart size bag, shoes, and jacket and head with them to this very, very dark room. And while this sounds the like the beginning of a gay porn should let you know both of these TSAs were about as attractive as three day old road kill.

So we get to this private screening area and I lift up my shirt, yank down my jeans and now ready to take down the briefs. Both agent and supervisor look down, look at each other, and very quickly tell me that the visual inspection is over with and that showing the full monte would not be required.