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Today was travel day, and I decided to wear a flirty, flouncy sundress and high-heeled sandals. I wanted to feel as feminine as possible before I return to the drudgery of life tomorrow.
Kudos once again to the security people for not even flinching as they perused my passport.
And, thanks to the security officer who smiled at me and complimented my dress.
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Traveling to Las Vegas, I opted out of the scary big machine scanner thingy, and took the pat-down instead.
The guy quickly radioed, “Female assist needed,” and within a few seconds, a female screener appeared.
The airport security authority has clearly bent over backwards to accommodate the most sexually sensitive people out there, from providing a same-sex screener for the pat-down, to instituting procedures requiring them to describe exactly how they are going to touch each part of your body.
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You think you have prepared for all eventualities, and then it happens…
I have done my best during the time I have been crossdressing to separate my real identity from Janie’s.
But, apparently, all it takes is some stupid airline gate agent who has nothing better to do at 5 o’clock in the morning than to announce people’s names and ask them to come to the desk to verify the information they have entered when checking in online.
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