Erotic Pat-Downs: I'll Opt-Out of Opting-Out

With all of this hullabaloo (noun: an uproar or fuss) going on about holiday travel, I thought I’d climb on to my proverbial soap box and give my proverbial 2¢. Maybe it’s because I don’t have to travel for the holidays, but I don’t understand why people hate going to the airport / being groped at the airport so much; so someone wants to give your inner thighs a rubdown - enjoy it and give thanks! When did people get so protective of their "junk", anyways? Prude, prude, prude. I personally love airports, and to some people that makes me an odd bird. If only they understood my airport routine, they’d think I was a pretty cool... bird.

STEPHANY POBRISLO’S AIRPORT ROUTINE:

• Arrive at DIA > 2 hours early (3 for international flights)
• Arrive at gate in approximately 19 minutes
• Read novel for 7 minutes
• Get grossed out by someone sleeping at gate
• Seek airport bar
• Order wine
• Watch obscure football game that has no relevance to my life
• Order more wine
• Establish relationship with airport bar cronies
• Witness two disheveled parents, with 4 ginger babies in tow, walk up to bar and order Jaeger shots, throw them back, and miserably exit bar
• Laugh with airport bar cronies at disheveled parents’ expense, savor taste of having inside joke with new friends
• Bid airport bar cronies adieu; feel overwhelming sadness for fleeting friendship
• Arrive back at gate to take part in degrading, counter-intuitive boarding procedure that is Southwest Airlines


Southwest’s boarding system truly is a whole different animal (to borrow a slogan from their wittier, superior competitor). It’s basically a Caste System in a contemporary setting, and your position in society boils down to your check-in performance 24 hours before flight time.

The elite A Group is reserved for the upper echelon of society; those with poor time-management skills and/or dislike for basic human rights need not apply. The A-Groupers are undoubtedly arriving at the airport an hour early today to participate in the protests; they opt-out of fondling, and they opt-out of fun. They’re the people with their liquids in baggies before they leave for the airport; the type that pack a nice turkey on whole wheat for the airport because they’d rather starve than eat at McDonald’s with the rest of the bourgeoisie. They are uptight, self-righteous aristocrats that enjoy nice aisle seats near the front of the plane while still maintaining comfortable distance from the lavatories. You hate them, unless you are one, in which case you hate everyone else.

But what if, you ask, you’re packing your bags the night before your trip, applying the lyrics from TSwift’s newest album to your current love life, and you realize that you forgot to check in for your flight? You had the best intentions, but quite frankly, “Back to December” is just so goddamn relevant that you spaced. Are you doomed? Should you just cancel your flight and adult-sob in bed all weekend watching a Teen Mom marathon? The answer is, no. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve definitely screwed up, and you will pay to some extent, but chances are, you’ll still get into the average, mundane B Group. B-Groupers are, in a word, unremarkable; they’re simple folk, who enjoy life’s little pleasures, like reclining their seats or treating themselves to a complimentary soft drink because their diets don’t allow them to Do the Dew very often, but heck! they're on vacation! There’s nothing particularly bad to say about the B Group, but then again, there’s nothing great to say about them either. They sound depressing, but I haven’t even begun to describe the C Group yet.

Glance towards the back of the plane and you’ll see a lot of flannel PJ bottoms and tear-away Adidas pants. You’ll smell weird smells that are reminiscent of day 4 on that godforsaken Carnival cruise. You might catch a glimpse of Ke$ha. You’d be willing to stand in line at the bathroom at the front of the plane for 20 minutes, pretending to “stretch your legs”, just to avoid going to the bathroom back there, with those people. The back of the plane is like Family Dollar on Black Friday– you don't go if you don't have to. Look, I know you’ve probably been in the C Group before, but I’d be willing to bet an $11 glass of airport Chardonnay that it was a mistake you vowed never to repeat.

The bottom line is, travel is supposed to be FUN - don't let a little unsolicited fondling ruin your day. Have some dranks, listen to some TSwift tunes and throw Skittles at the gate sleepers (what?). Do I smell hot dog salad coming from the back of the plane? Feels like a good time to stretch my legs....