TSA Agent: “happy holidays.”
Me: “um… do I know you?”
TSA Agent: “well no, no you do not.”
Me: “then why you wishing me happy holidays?”
TSA Agent: “because it’s the customary thing to do.”
Me: “so then you don’t really mean it?”
TSA Agent: “well, I guess in your case, no, no I do not.”
Me: “then why don’t you just say what you mean?”
TSA Agent: “ok, how about, I hope your holidays suck!”
Me: “now you’re talkin’ – fuck you and you’re damn holiday cheer!”
TSA Agent: “right!? Here’s to a shitty New Year!”
Me: “ahaha! No resolutions for you, eh?”
TSA Agent: “hope your plane crashes and y’all die!”
Me: “whoa! You didn’t just say that, did you?”
TSA Agent: “what? Was that wrong?”
Me: “hells yeah, not even funny.”
TSA Agent: “but you said to say what I really mean.”
Me: “but there’s limits as to what’s acceptable.”
TSA Agent: “this polite banter thing is so confusing.”
Me: “yes, awkward social interactions are pretty taxing.”
TSA Agent: “how’s about I just pat you down and we don’t talk.”
Me: “absolutely yes, that’s my favorite.”
TSA Agent: “geez, for a deplorable degenerate you’re not so bad.”
Me: “ya know, for a fascist stormtrooper you’re all right.”
TSA Agent: “happy holidays, buddy.”
Me: “same to you, pal!”
TSA Agent: “Merry Christmas!”
Me: “Um… what’s the catch?”
TSA Agent: “What do you mean?”
Me: “Why you wishing me a merry christmas?”
TSA Agent: “Can’t I spread the holiday cheer?”
Me: “Your entire stormtrooper facade screams, ’no’.”
TSA Agent: “But we’re the new TSA!”
Me: “New TSA?”
TSA Agent: “Trump’s TSA!”
Me: “Um…”
TSA Agent: “…”
Me: “So… strip search and all my rights violated?”
TSA Agent: “Absolutely!”
Me: “Merry fuckin’ christmas.”
TSA Agent: “Ho, ho, ho!”
TSA Agent: “Sir, is this your bag?”
Me: “Um… yes it is.”
TSA Agent: “Any food items inside?”
Me: “There could be…”
TSA Agent: “You don’t know?”
Me: “Hard to say in absolutes.”
TSA Agent: “Man should know if he’s carrying food.”
Me: “Really, this some kind of unwritten rule?”
TSA Agent: “No man, that’s survival of the fittest stuff.”
Me: “Ain’t we top of the food chain?”
TSA Agent: “I know I am…”
Me: “What about the apocalypse, end of the world?”
TSA Agent: “I’d eat you.”
Me: “You win.”
Girl sitting next to me on the plane says to me: “I’m a normal regular college kid and I’ve never met anyone that’s gone to jail or even talked to a real drug addict.”
I just didn’t have the heart to tell her: “we’ll, you have now.”
Tiny Child: “I gotta go bathroom!”
TSA Agent: “not now you don’t.”
Me: “come on TSA dude, let the kid go piss.”
Tiny Child: “I gotta go now!”
TSA Agent: “you shut up, and you kid, hold it.”
Me: I’m confused, am I the hold it, or the shut…”
TSA Agent: “shut up!”
Me: “ah, okay, got it.”
Tiny Child: “I need bathroom!”
TSA Agent: “where the hell are his parents?”
Me: “don’t look at me.”
Tiny Child: “gonna wet my pants!”
TSA Agent: “oh hell no!”
Me: “I’d say ya got yourself a red alert here.”
TSA Agent: “listen buddy, I’m not going to warn you again.”
Me: “warn me about what?”
Tiny Child: “I gotta go bathroom!”
TSA Agent: “shut the fuck up!”
Tiny Woman: “did you just tell my 5 year old to shut the fuck up?”
TSA Agent: “I certainly did not!”
Me: “lady, I heard him swear at your kid.”
Tiny Woman: “you sir, are a vile man!”
TAS Agent: “ma’am, I assure you I…”
Tiny Child: “I gotta go bathroom!”
TSA Agent: “jesus, take your brat and get outta here!”
Tiny Woman: “I want to talk to your supervisor!”
TSA Agent: “please, all of you, just go away!”
Me: “they train you for this shit in TSA school.”
TSA Agent: “I don’t wanna do this any more.”
Me: “excellent, my work here is done.”
TSA Agent: “Mr. Idol, there’s an irregularity with your luggage.”
Me: “I’m not… irregularity? What the fuck does that mean?”
TSA Agent: “well, Mr. Idol, seems the x-ray detected an dense object.”
Me: “and that means?”
TSA Agent: “we have to investigate.”
Me: “think I’m detecting some density as well.”
TSA Agent: “how so, Mr. Idol?”
Me: “dude, this ain’t a medical procedure, open the damn bag.”
TSA Agent: “so you’re givin’ us permission?”
Me: “you have my blessing, TSA dude.”
TSA Agent: “see, I told you Mr, Idol would understand.”
TSA Agent 2: “no, you said he’d kick my ass!”
TSA Agent: “shut up, Agent Conroy.”
TSA Agent 2: “um, Mr. Idol sir, what is this object?”
Me: “looks like a plaster antique severed head of Jesus with the obligatory crown of thorns.”
TSA Agent 2: “and the origin of said severed head?”
Me: “I refuse to answer, you know, 5th amendment.”
TSA Agent: “Ah, Mr. Idol, may I call you Billy?”
Me: “um… no.”
TSA Agent: “well, okay then. Why the head Mr. Idol.”
Me: “ahhh… it’s Easter?”
TSA Agent: “fair enough. You gotta permit to transport object d’art?”
Me: “it was a gift, um, from a fan.”
TSA Agent 2: “Mr. Idol, for the love of christ, why Jesus’ head?”
Me: “you’d rather it was his butt?”
TSA Agent: “good point.”
Flight delayed three hours due to “extreme weather” in Southern California. Twenty minutes out of Oakland we hit turbulence, and it continued all the way down. Drinks got spilled. Babies were crying. The large woman next to me had her rosary out. The drunk woman across the aisle wanted to know if I was Billy Idol. I screamed,” leave me the fuck alone, we’re all going to die!” The stewardess asked me to keep my opinions to myself. We circled Burbank Airport two times, the pilot said we only had an extra fifteen minutes of fuel and if he didn’t make it down through the crosswinds this next pass he was flying back to Oakland. We did a bump and grind across the sky, dropped 100 feet straight down, and everyone clapped as he slid us sideways onto the tarmac. When the plane came to a stop the drunk lady handed me an unused barf bag and asked for my autograph. I wrote, “your life was flashing before your eyes and you were still annoying” – love Billy. I did not kiss the ground when I deplaned. It was only fucking Burbank after all.
TSA Agent: “ticket, ID.”
Me: “here, okay?”
TSA Agent: “this you on the ID?”
Me: “who else it gonna be?”
TSA Agent: “don’t know, but you don’t look like him.”
Me: “I don’t look like what him?”
TSA Agent: “that’s what I’m asking.”
Me: “you want ID, I give you ID.”
TSA Agent: “but I want your ID.”
Me: “you got my ID.”
TSA Agent: “this ain’t you.”
Me: “says who?”
TSA Agent: “says me.”
Me: “how you gonna prove that?”
TSA Agent: “I don’t gotta prove it.”
Me: “exactly.”
TSA Agent: “exactly?”
Me: “just what I said.”
TSA Agent: “who said?”
Me: “me, the guy on the ID.”
TSA Agent: “this you?”
Me: “uh huh.”
TSA Agent: “have a nice flight.”
Me: “don’t mind if I do.”
TSA Agent: “ID, boarding pass?”
Me: “Yes, of course, here.”
TSA Agent: “Leaving the country?”
Me: “Why yes, yes I am.”
TSA Agent: “Purpose of your trip?”
Me: “I already told you, leaving the country.”
TSA Agent: “Business? Pleasure?”
Me: “I just want to leave.”
TSA Agent: “Why?”
Me: “Have you seen the state of things?”
TSA Agent: “What do you mean?”
Me: “Hurricanes, earthquakes, a Nazi in the White House…”
TSA Agent: “Its not that bad.”
Me: “It’s the apocalypse.”
TSA Agent: “Have you tried talking to Jesus?”
Me: “too afraid of what he’d say.”
TSA Agent: “He’d probably say, ‘Make America great again.’”
Me: “Exactly.”
