The Troublemaker

Day One of my Spring Training Trip...

So my spring training trip gets off to a terrific start when airport security decides I need a physical pat down because the Time Portal Radar Range Flux Capacitor (that thing you stand in with your arms above your head while it spins around and scans you) has detected a problem.

I look behind me and there’s a screen with an outline of my (or at least somebody’s) body and the problem area is indicated by a red box, which is located directly over my crotch.

It’s possible to have more than one reaction to this sequence of events, but the reaction I choose to have is:

ACCORDING TO THE UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT, MY DICK IS A DANGER TO AIRLINE SECURITY, FELLOW PASSENGERS, THE AIRPLANE’S CREW, AIRPORT STAFF, THE PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS, THE SECURITY OF OUR BORDERS AND DOMESTIC TRANQUILITY IN GENERAL AND HAD TO BE INVESTIGATED.

Geez, I could have told them that.  

Generally speaking it’s done nothing but cause me and everybody it’s ever encountered problems and while I’m not one of those dudes who names his penis (apparently Elvis Presley called his “Little Elvis”) now that the U.S. Government Has Made It Official, I’m going to start calling mine:

“The Troublemaker.”

Next the airport security officer tells me what the pat down is going to consist of, including, but not limited to: rubbing my buttocks, the insides of my thighs and lightly touching my “groin area” which sounds remarkably similar to the series of events that took place at my first Sadie Hawkins Dance.

The line that came to mind was: “So no happy ending?”

Which I didn’t say out loud because airport security is not famous for their sense of humor, but looking back I probably should have said it out loud because thinking of the line, but not saying it made me smile, so some poor guy whose job description includes rubbing other guy’s dicks has said he’s going to lightly touch a passenger’s groin area and the passenger in question gets a creepy smile.

He then asks if I’d rather have our Heavy Petting Session take place in private and I’m thinking fuck no because it’s going to be bad enough with other people watching, but let this guy have some privacy and he might decide a body cavity search is called for and now that I let my mind wander down that lane, just because he had on a blue shirt with patches on it, how do I know he actually worked for the airport?

Maybe he was just some random pervert that likes to rub other guy’s crotches and the real airport security people let him do it because they think it’s funny.

“Hey, look, Larry fooled another one!”

And now an example of law enforcement’s dark sense of humor.

True Law Enforcement Story

The Kansas City Royals and Texas Rangers share a spring training complex and security is provided by off-duty policemen and over the years I got to know some of them because I make it policy to be friendly with the guys who have guns and pepper spray and handcuffs and know how to apply a “come-along” wrist manipulation grip, which is a move cops use or used (not sure what the policies are these days) to twist the shit out of a suspect’s wrist and force “pain compliance” which is a term I just got off the Police 1 website.

(“Pain compliance” sounds way better than the previous description: “I’m going to hurt you until you do what I want” a term that was originally derived from 87% of long-term relationships.)

Now here’s an article from the Police 1 website called “Beyond the baton: 5 forgotten police weapons” and it’s a nostalgic look at the shit cops used to be able to do, like carry blackjacks or nunchucks or an “Argus Iron Claw” which looks like it was invented by the Marquis de Sade and if you don’t believe me, here’s a diagram:

If you want to read more about neat things cops used to be able to do before the rest of us screwed things up with our cell phone cameras, here you go:

https://www.police1.com/close-quarters-combat/articles/beyond-the-baton-5-forgotten-police-weapons-2A4MveWTb86tRC3d/

So I ask one of the cops to show me that “come-along” move because you never know when it might be handy in a family argument and while he’s demonstrating the move, Dan Glass walks by. (Just in case you don’t know, Dan Glass was the president of the Royals and the son of David Glass who at the time of this incident, owned the team.)

Now here’s a 2 minute and 35 second video that shows the move I’m talking about:

Having a fairly dark sense of humor myself, I suggest the cop (and I’m not using his name because I don’t know if he’d like that, but he’s a really good dude) show Dan Glass the come-along move, which was kinda like suggesting one of the guards at Buckingham Palace put Prince Charles in a headlock.

(Which let’s face it, would be fabulously entertaining.)

The cop clearly doesn’t want to, but now Dan Glass gets interested and he wants to see how the move works so the cop reluctantly demonstrates it on Dan Glass, although his heart clearly wasn’t into it, so he did it gently which defeats the purpose.

The move works because it feels like a cop is about to break your wrist, but in reality it only feels like a cop is about to break your wrist because a cop is about to break your wrist.

After Dan Glass leaves – presumably to try the move on a clubhouse attendant or his personal secretary – the cop says, “Jesus, Lee, you’re going to get me fired.” And I gotta say I’m pretty proud of managing to scare a cop, a feeling only surpassed by having the Transportation Security Administration declare my dick a National Security Risk.  

OK, we’re way off track here so let’s get back on the main highway and I’ll tell you why the observation that airport security might let some random weirdo feel up passengers for laughs made me think of those off-duty cops.

Me and the cops go out for dinner and beers and when I get up to go to the bathroom, one of them says I might want to take my silverware with me.

Weird observation so I ask why and he tells me that one of the jokes they like to pull (and have pulled in the past) is to spray your neglected silverware with pepper spray while you’re gone and he then tells a story about a fellow cop that didn’t protect his silverware and subsequently had a taco salad for dinner and kept commenting on how hot and spicy it was while the rest of the cops tried not to laugh their asses off.

You gotta admit it: that’s funny.

Although, I’ve got vague memories of the Spicy Taco Salad Adventure ending up with a trip to the emergency room, but I’ve known some people who have worked in emergency rooms and they have a pretty dark sense of humor as well, so I imagine everybody (with the possible exception of the cop with a swollen tongue) got a good laugh out of it.

And now on to Day Two

I’m writing and posting this because, as usual, I’m up way too early because my body is still on Kansas City time and I’ve got to kill a couple hours until the rest of Phoenix wakes up.

Today I’ll chose a game to watch which will require buying a ticket that MLB has decided to make as difficult as possible because you have to download apps and negotiate the internet and get 100 names of registered voters on a petition and then hire a lawyer to take your case to the Supreme Court who will then return it to a lower court for clarification and the difficulty of negotiating this process brings up a very important question:

Do I need a separate ticket for The Troublemaker?