Returning from Holiday at the US Airport from the Middle East

Returning to the US after a month in Israel, Palestine, Jordan, Syria, and Lebanon I was of course stopped by the security guards and a rotund TSA officer who looked like he was a life long devotee of McDonalds and KFC. As I can best near recall, this was the conversation

Security
Why were you in all these A rab countries? Were you making bombs?” he started to chuckle at his joke.

Me
No, I am only a student of the process. A student, you know, Talib, to learn.
(The security guard looked at me suspiciously)

Security
What were you learning?

Me
Why in the medina, I am sure you know, in the old city of Damascus they have….Shssshh! Hush hush (and lowered my voice) a nuclear bomb factory.

(His eyes bulged; I could see in his eyes the American flag and hailed on TV as a hero for uncovering a bomb factory in the Middle East. From the pudgy jowls, his eyes squeezed closed)

Security
Tell me more!” he said with stern authority

(I felt I had no other choice but to lay it on thick and fast.)

Me
Well sir, I know I can trust you with this very classified information, as you are the most senior TSA guard, and of course the TSA, is like (I paused and lowered my voice)… the CIA, but better.

(His chest puffed up like a cartoon figure of Pluto in Popeye, and like the cartoon, when he puffed up his chest his pants started to fall down, but my TSA guard at the gate was quick on the draw and grabbed his trousers.)

Me
There in the medina, the old city is a veritable nest of Muslims making nuclear bombs faster than grandma baking cookies. When you go past the bab, that is the gate, past the dress shops and the headscarves is a tiny alley, by Sheik yer Booties Baksheesh shop, and if you knock three times on the ceiling, tick tock tick, not any more, because that will tip them off, they’ll blow themselves up quicker than you can say “Allah Akhbar. By the way do you know what Allah Akhbar means don’t you?”

Security
Sure do, Allah Akhbar means, I got a bomb and I’m going to lay a jihad on you. Right? (He looked at me with this limpid rheumy cholesterol filled eyes.)

Me
Man, you’re one smart TSA guy! No wonder they have the best of the best working here.

Security
(With his chest puffed out and clutching his pants)
He said, “Sure thing! Shssshh don’t say anything, but I am the Top Gun here.

Me
Your secret is safe with me… Top Gun…sshhhh!” As I was telling you, it looks like an ordinary shop where they make tourist trinkets and t-shirts “Grandma went to Mecca and bought me this t-shirt,” but no in the back room (I lowered my voice even softer as he leaned closer) is not only where they make bombs, but… Shssshh nuclear bombs. It is Iran but worse.

Security
What could be worse than an Islamic nuclear bomb?

Me
A picture of a naked American girl wearing a headscarf! Yup, they’re making that bomb in the little backroom, reactors in the rear next to the bathroom, uranium storage facilities by the stove, and I know it is hard to believe but these – pervert Jihadists are making a bomb that will scare thebe Jesus out of any righteous Christian American.

Security
I’ve got to call this in. I’ve been taking notes and

(Suddenly a voice over the speaker said, “Mc Coy, you can let the suspect go.”)

Security
But this man has observed a terrorist plot and they’re making nuclear bombs in the markets of Old Damascus! This is national security stuff!

Voice of the Office through the Speaker
Look, uhm, Top Gun, we get it all on tape (In the background I could hear them laughing through the thin door) and you can let him go. We’ll put a tail on him and make sure everyone knows how you cracked this case wide open.

Security
Really sir? Yes, sir. Yes, sir. No terrorist can get past me! You sure we have to let him go? Right?

Me
Thank you Top Gun I am glad that I was able to share with you this evil cabal in the souq of Old Damascus.