Body scan me please

I’ve always thought of myself as a wannabe exhibitionist; a Lady Godiva without a horse.

I step out of the shower, towel still hanging limply on the rack and feel the urge to keep going — to exit the bathroom, to walk out of the house, to parade my naked and glistening body before a hopefully appreciative public.

But until now, I haven’t found the appropriate circumstance to publicly display my attributes.

The ivory torso tucked under my Champion Double Dry Fleece has remained in storage.

So many unlucky souls have gone their whole lives without studying my scenic sub-continent.

Fortunately, the Transportation Security Administration has graciously provided a solution. Although body scanners were introduced to United States’s airports in 2007, the procedure has recently seen an uptick in press coverage and controversy.

Those opposing the procedure, which takes naked pictures of passengers to prevent the smuggling of weapons, cite a variety of reasons why it should be banned, such as invasion of privacy and the machine’s potentially harmful radiation technology.

But I don’t see this security measure as a threat. I see it as an opportunity to lawfully flaunt your gallery of goodies. What a thrill it would be to knowingly step under a colossal death machine and have a black and white, fluoroscopic image of your unclothed cadaver transmitted to some reclusive TSA agent.

For me, the timing of this media-perpetuated controversy couldn’t be more perfect.
In a few days, I fly to the Czech Republic for the purpose of starting a “Lord of the Rings” themed tea parlor. If you’re interested, some of my patented tea blends will include “Uruk-Chai,” “Legoleaf” and “Teabeard.”

But before I begin my new life-long business venture, I will be carted through a body scanner as I make my way through the airport’s security gauntlet. Of course, I also have the option to opt out of the scan and put myself in the eager hands of a professionally trained groper.

Truthfully, I wish I could do both. Start by digitally flashing myself and finish with a TSA official groping me.

But if I had to make a Sophie’s Choice, I’d choose the scanner. I’m aware that my only audience member will be a lone TSA official.

But there is a possibility my pic might be leaked online, as was witnessed in the recent smorgasbord of body scanned images posted on Gizmodo.

After years of sleeping through skinny dipping expeditions I will finally be able to present my unadulterated essence to an observing stranger.

I can get on the plane knowing I’ve fulfilled at least one person’s secret desire to see a 21-year-old cottage cheese addict in peak physical condition.

While my fellow passengers are scowling at the pervasive injustices they are about to endure, I will be all smiles, excited for a chance to broadcast my cave of wonders.


E-mail: joskraus@indiana.edu