What you’ll read below is something I copied from a Facebook post I saw recently. Mind you, the Facebook groups for restoration which used to exist but were decimated from the inside are now ghosts. My gut tells me that a small number of restoring men have banded together to form their own super-top-secret-us-only-and-nobody-else group and that’s fine. They can have it, as I certainly do not miss the drama. The group I saw the post in is the “only” group remaining from the ones everyone knew of before. I find it mostly useless at this point, but I’ll stay on for nuggets like what I’m sharing below and also out of a sense of community.

I’ll not share the name of the guy who told the story below. (If you’re reading this and you want to be identified or you want me to remove this post, please advise and I’ll honor your request.) It is a bit comical, a bit tragic, and also a bit of an eye-opener regarding something I’ve wondered about.

Thanks for reading.



So I walked through an airport scanner wearing my DTR today. It registered as a foreign object. I told the security guy I had a medical device on my penis that I’d forgotten to take off. (Okay, actually, I had a lot of time to spare and was curious what would happen.) I asked if I could take it off and walk through again. He said no, that once someone sets off the machine they have to follow procedure. I elaborated, explaining that it was a plastic device to stretch your foreskin. He gave me a brief pat-down and said he would have to call his manager. This is when it got really funny, and then really annoying.

They ushered me into the private room. The manager whispered to me that I’d done nothing wrong and could present as whatever gender I wanted to be. He thought I was wearing a prosthetic! I asked again if I could take it off. He said no, that I didn’t have to. Repeating that they were sympathetic to gender, that they wanted me to be comfortable, and that it wasn’t the first time this had happened. Then the original guard, who had a better idea of what was going on, and the manager each gave me another outside-the-clothes but very personal pat down. They both agreed there was something down there.

I asked again if I could just remove the device. The manager said yes, and they both turned around while I took it off. I think they were both confused when they actually saw it. Another pat down followed. This was pretty personal. Like, firm rubbing of the boy parts. The manager (who still apparently doesn’t get it and thinks I’m a trans-man) says, “There’s still something there.” The other man, who understands, but has to follow procedure, says, “Well, yeah…”

So then a third security member was called in. He gave yet another inspection, and then cleared me to fly with a penis. Next time there will be a quick stop in the bathroom before security.

One thought on “TSA

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