Inner Thoughts of a TSA Agent During the Government Shutdown

● You know what’s crazy? I’m making less than a server in Georgia. Before tips.

● At least blue is a good color on me.

● TSA, more like Trump Sucks Ass.

● If every passenger does not crumble to their knees and thank me for my unpaid service, I’m walking out.

● New rule: if you sigh loudly while removing your shoes, you owe me five dollars. Cash only. Unmarked bills.

● You’d think with no paycheck, I’d at least get to keep the water bottles. Nope. Not even the half-drunk Fiji.

● “Do I look like a terrorist?” Sir, you look like a man who eats string cheese in the shower. That is its own form of terror.

● Now people are REALLY going to think I like groping them. I’m doing it without getting paid.

● Sometimes I whisper my secrets into the bins before sending them through the scanner. They come out purified—unless they’re traveling with a bag of crystal meth.

● I have started naming the gray bins. This one is Carl. Carl carries laptops bravely into the light.

● Carl is my friend now. We’re getting through this together.

● I salute the full-body scanner every time I pass by. It sees me more clearly than my own parents ever did.

● Maybe I can finally ride the conveyor belt now that everyone pities me. It’s always been my dream to ride that conveyor belt.

● What is money? What is the Government?

● The conveyor belt calls to me. Soon, I will ride it. I will bring Carl. Soon, I will never come back.

Meet the Writer!

Zoë Kuehn

has a degree in Comedy Writing and Performance from Columbia College Chicago—so yes, her entire college career was one big joke. She loves painting, writing, and drinking copious amounts of tea. For business inquiries, fan mail, or kindhearted complaints, contact: zokuehn@gmail.com

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