The Viagra TSA Experiment A video
by John Hargrave 128,751 73 03/01/2011 12:00 AM 68207 views
There's not a lot of privacy left for air travelers nowadays. You can either opt for the privacy-invading body scanner, or the awkward full-body patdown. I recently decided to make the patdown a little more awkward by taking a massive dose of Viagra an hour before arriving at the airport.
Although this isn't my first Viagra prank, I can't take credit for this idea. A number of people had posted how funny it would be to take Viagra before getting a TSA touchyfeel, but I couldn't find anyone who actually went through with it. No wonder: it takes balls of steel (so to speak). Not just letting a federal agent pat down your unihorn, but trying to film it.
I wanted to get the biggest reaction possible, so I downed a stiff cocktail of three maximum-strength Viagra tabs as I was driving to the airport. (Fortunately, I buy my Viagra online so I don't need to worry about doctor's warnings.) By the time I got to the airport, I was bloated and red-faced, an unfortunate side effect of Viagra for me: it swells up everything. In the video, I look like a cross between Violet Beauregarde and a tomato.
Side effects may include swelling with delicious fruit juice
I hobbled to the TSA security line, trying to ignore Woody Woodpecker, who was straining to be freed. I started up the Flipcam and placed it on the security belt, then asked for a manual patdown.
"You can go through the scanner," the TSA agent told me, pointing to the giant X-ray machine from Total Recall where agents can see through every layer of your clothing. At least, in my fantasies. "The machine isn't on."
I wasn't going to fall for the old "The machine isn't on" trick. "I'd like to walk around the machine and get a manual check, please."
"I need a male assist!" the TSA agent hollered, which sounds like someone having difficulty completing a sexual act.
Cain, my "male assist," gathered my tub with the camera, and led me to the patdown area where they bring suspected criminals and anyone with a last name of more than three syllables.
"I'm gonna do a quick patdown of your entire body, OK?" Cain asked.
"Can I get a female patdown?" I inquired. "Is that doable?"
"Actually, we can't do that," Cain replied. "It's all male-to-male." This was sounding more and more like a trip to the Tenderloin district.
"It's just the embarrassing thing is I, uh ... I took some Viagra this morning," I admitted.
"Don't worry, I'm not gonna be touching that area," Cain responded, neglecting to mention that he would be touching everywhere around that area, not to mention staring it directly in the eye.
It was incredibly awkward, with Cape Horn protruding from my jeans. Everybody knew it was there, but no one could talk about it. Forget about the elephant in the living room; this was an elephant in my underpants.
Cain positioned himself behind me and began firmly patting down my neck, back and arms. He was like one of those massage chairs at Brookstone. "How 'bout them Bears?" I joked.
He laughed. "I'm not a big fan of the Bears."
"I'm not talking about the sports team," I replied. "I'm talking about the woodland creatures."
"They're all right, I guess."
"They're good at foraging," I pointed out.
"I'm gonna use the back of my hands now, all right?" asked Cain.
He began to firmly stroke my buttocks, and I began giggling. He thought this was funny, too, and laughed. "I'm sorry," I apologized, "that reminds me of my uncle when I was ten."
Now came the hard part. He came around front, and was forced to kneel. Let's just say no one had died, because the flag was at full mast. I was worried he might get poked in the eye.
"What do you think, pretty impressive, huh?" I asked.
Stunned silence. At least, I like to think he was stunned. It could have been that it wasn't that impressive.
He finished his lower body patdown, trying to avoid getting his forehead slapped, or a wiener to the ear. He stood up, looking visibly shaken.
"Hopefully this can't be considered a concealed weapon," I remarked, pushing my luck.
He ignored me, silently swabbing me for explosives.
"...though it is in the bedroom," I added.
"And after this, you'll be all set," he said, probably praying the machine would not detain me for further searching. The machine gave me the all-clear. "And there you go!" Then he fled.
I thanked him, gathered my belongings, and walked to my gate, being careful to cover my groin with my coat ... until I discovered that I could use my groin to hang my coat.
Our freedoms are being stripped from us (literally) with every body scan we submit to, but it's not the TSA agent's fault, of course. It's our fault. It's our fault for being so scared that we allow the government to take away our privacy, in order to gain the illusion of greater security. My stance is simple: I would rather have less security, and more freedom.
I want to call bullShakespeare on this prank, but that's only because I figured our Zug Overlord would have done something to get the attention of the government and, therefore, would be on the no-fly list.
Uh, I innocently followed a link from Fark, scrolled down and hit play, somehow missing that I was on GAB Zug. OFF COURSE the gross Viagra dude was JH. Should have known as soon as I saw the headline on Fark. Sigh.
John, I am so disappointed in you. That recording of Yankee Doodle clearly featured a piccolo playing the fife part. If you'd fake that, there's no telling what else was fake.
Seriously, John, I have to hand it to you. It takes balls of steel to walk through the airport with a Coleridge of steel. There was a guy, though, a couple of months ago, who took it a step further than you did. He actually looks kind of like you, too.
I hear that quote a lot and I just don't get it. If Benjamin Franklin were alive today and bore witness to such weapons like machine guns and atomic bombs, he would most certainly have something different to say.
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