There’s not much that’s private anymore when you fly.

Between the new full body scanners that show your junk to anyone with a high school diploma and the luck to land a federal job, to the new pat-down procedures (with emphasis on, again, the junk, because apparently that’s where terrorists like to hide printer cartridges) given by said security agents, there’s the possibility for much comedy.

Take for example, one of my more recent flights. As you know, porn is big business. As any big business, this one is national and international so travel is a required part of the job. I am well acquainted with airport security, from quart-sized ziplock bags to the fact that nail clippers are now considered deadly weapons.

All of which is supposed to protect us from terrorists who seem to get their ideas from Wile E. Coyote’s ACME catalog. I mean seriously — shoe bombs? Underwear bombs? If it wasn’t for the fact that their schemes worked in the past, their ideas would be funnier than anything Chuck Jones could have thought up.

However, I was pulled aside once for an inspection of my carry-on. I had no idea what might have tripped off their X-ray machine or bomb-residue swipe of my bag. It’s hard to keep track of what can and can’t go on flights anymore. I’m expecting the government to not allow people on planes anymore to further minimize any chance of another terrorist attack. I’m only half-joking about this.

As the security agent went through my bag and as I came to terms with having to fold everything again, his dull and bored body language was replaced by someone who’d just stumbled onto something, with his eyes now wide.

I started panicking — Was I always in possession of my bag at all times? Could some evil-doer have slipped something in my bag?

He cleared his throat and picked up a butt plug I forgot I packed. It could have been worse. It could have been a bottle of water.

“Oh yeah that,” I said nonchalantly. “It’s a butt plug. I’ve been looking for that one.”

The security agent, still flustered, couldn’t get rid of the butt plug fast enough. It was like the butt plug was made out of plutonium, but I was pretty sure plutonium was on the no-fly list.

“Oh, um, well, I’ll put it back under this sweater…”

I was having fun with this one: “So butt plugs are fine?”

“Um, yes, those sorts of… items are still allowed.”

So there you go. Non-nuclear butt plugs are fine, at least until the terrorists order that from the Acme catalog.

But if you don’t see them as often in videos, you will have known the terrorists have won.

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