Thom Young: the scanner

http://thomisawriter.blogspot.com/2010/11/scanner.html?zx=48825e7ec95e6b43

THE BEST IN UNDERGROUND LITERATURE FROM THE INFAMOUS THOM YOUNG

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 9, 2010

the scanner

“Take off your belts! Take off your shoes!” The travelers got herded like cattle. None of this meant anything to Tom Wilson. He had been occupied the last few months. Tom made a couple hundred at the track. His luck had been so good, he decided to catch a flight to Kentucky. It was derby season. Tom booked his flight and drove to the airport. He lit a cigarette and walked to his gate. “Sir, take off you belt! Take off your shoes!” “Excuse me?” “I said take off your shoes and belt! Put out that smoke!” Tom exhaled smoke in the guard’s face. “I ain’t wearing a belt motherfucker and I’ll be fucked if I’m going to take off my shoes.”

Tom soon found himself surrounding by several goons in black uniforms. “Sir, you need to come with us. We need to ask you some questions.” “Ask me questions? I’m going to the goddamn Kentucky Derby. I got two hundred on Daisy Apple.” “Put out that cigarette, and come with us.” Tom followed the goons into a small room. 

“What country are you from Mr. Wilson?” “I’m from fucking Texas. You do know where that is? We are in fucking Dallas.” The goons knew they had a live one. “Do you have any association with Al Qaeda?” Tom laughed and grabbed his lighter. “Who? Never heard of those fuckers.” “What are your travel plans Mr. Wilson?” “I told you that I’m going to the fucking Kentucky Derby. I got a couple hundred on Daisy Apple.” The security officer wrote down a few notes and continued. “What are your travel plans Mr. Wilson?”

“I AM GOING TO THE GODDAMN KENTUCKY DERBY! I GOT FUCKING TWO HUNDRED ON DAISY APPLE!” Tom soon found himself on the floor. The lights looked brighter from down there. “What the fuck did you do that for?” “I had to deploy my taser gun, since you were resisting.” Tom shook his head. “What was I resisting? I am not a criminal.” The biggest goon grabbed a few more papers. “Not according to our records Mr. Wilson. It looks like you’ve had several public intoxications, and a drunk driving rap.”

“I like to drink. I need to get on my plane.” “Mr. Wilson, you can’t get on the plane without a security scan.” “A security scan? What the fuck is that?” The security officer led Tom to a body scanner. “Stand right here Mr. Wilson. The machine will take a picture of your body.” Tom tried to light a cigarette, but his hand was slapped. “It’s for your safety Mr. Wilson.” “My safety? You fucks don’t know anything about it. I did three tours in ‘Nam. You fucks were sucking mama’s tit back then.” “Just step in the front of the machine Mr. Wilson.” “I certainly will not. You pervs aren’t looking at my white ass. I bet you jack off when little kids go through this.”

Tom found himself on the floor again. “Mr. Wilson, I’m afraid your flight has left. “You can either go through the machine or have a pat down.” “A pat down? You think I’m going to let you touch my dick?”

“We are going to take you downtown.” “For what? Tell me what crime I’ve committed?” Tom thought about the derby. Daisy Apple was in the lead. And around the stretch they come. Her boy cracked the whip now. She broke free and won by a nose.

“Put this one in the drunk tank.”

The End

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