Felt Up

Going anywhere in Delhi means going through a security check that goes something like this… Walk through metal detector, stop, hold arms out while security officer either scans with a hand held wand, or rubs your body up and down with his hands, open bags close bags and move on. I am not a prude, but I like my space and sometimes I just feel the security check is well, just a bit much. Today, for example. I happen to be wearing jeans that are snug but not so snug you can tell my religion and a form fitting t-shirt which they then slowly move their hands over and I wonder what they are possibly looking for. There is nothing larger than a piece of scotch tape I could possibly be hiding under my nipple high-lighting shirt. And then they move down the leg and grab at the pockets. They feel something and then they grab again. While nobody has ever grabbed Sparky, he has certainly been brushed by countless security guys. And then comes the lower leg and backside feel. They get in real close, breathe a bit in my face and bend over, putting their face right in my crotch as they feel up and down the legs and then around the buttocks, giving each a little squeeze before standing up, smiling and waving me through. That happened to me four times today. It really makes me very uncomfortable.

And it is not as if these are really fabulous and sexy muscle hunks that make you think “bring it on and keep it coming…” and then ask “Are you sure you checked everywhere? You want to check again? I am almost positive I put on some weapons of mass destruction this morning. Hold on, let me think… Shave, brush, hair product, bronzer, nuclear war heads, keys, phone… Yep, I’m sure I got some on me somewhere… Perhaps I need to be strip searched… Just for the safety of the people…”