Okay, I admit it. I’m
neurotic about having my belongings touched by strangers. I’ll put up
with it when it’s necessary, but the Royals security bag grope ain’t.
Once the top flap is opened, my Jack Bauer Murse of Doom is completely
open, no other flaps or hidden compartments. So the contents can be
inspected with a minimum of handling.
Even when the grope uncovers
something that might be contraband, the groper simply takes my word that
it isn’t. If they aren’t going to make any effort to actually tell the
difference between binoculars and beer bottles, then why bother with it
to begin with?
And just so I don’t come across as completely insane about this, let me
point out just how unsanitary the practice is. They don’t wear gloves.
I’ve never seen so much as a wet wipe anywhere near any of them.
I’m
sure most of the bags they caress are perfectly fine. But you have to
know that more than once or twice a game they rub up against a purse
that spends a good part of its pursely existence flopped down on the
chaw-spat floor of some honky tonk in Raytown.
When they start digging
inside, how many surfaces do they touch that previously came into
contact with dirty diapers or leaking bottles of Tinkerbell perfume or
dead possums? Try getting that picture out of your mind the next time
one of our yellow-shirted friends finishes with the person in front of
you and reaches for your stuff.
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