A Nigerian Terrorist Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab boarded an airline with explosives in his crotch. From the pictures of his charred underpants, I might not be surprised if he had figured out a way to use his hanging organs as a fuse. Seriously who lights his underpants on fire in an aircraft.
My problem is that now whenever I am going through a security check the security guard will not only rub his hands all over my body but now he has an extra reason to frisk my crotch too. The authorities claim to be perfectly normal and routine, yet the person ahead of me is rarely subjected to same level of molestation.
A year ago PVR had ensured that all the patrons were hand frisked by security guards before entering the show of Dostana. (a bollywood movie about a gay couple) Considering that every one of customer to the theatre had passed the security check at the entrance of the mall, I am wondering if this measure was to satisfy one of the CEO’s private fantasies.
During my stay in France, my European friends always used to wonder why I was so reluctant in sharing my residence address with the authorities or carrying any identity papers. Now if I start inquiring them about the security screening at the venue every time we make any plans for an outing, am I going to send out a wrong message? Guys help me! How can I enjoy a normal social life and yet keep another man’s hand off my crotch?