Dear TSA

Dear TSA,

I'm flying tomorrow to Washington DC. Surely you remember me. There was that time a couple of years ago when your scanner folks yanked my purse off of the conveyor belt because they saw a "suspicious shape" in it. Everything was removed from it so you could search through my belongings in detail. Turns out the suspicious shape was a tampon.

When I flew to California this fall, your new x-rated x-ray machines were just making their debut. In fact, I did not even know I was in one until I had assumed the position with my arms over my head.

It was too late for me to raise an objection to that machine that sees parts of me only my husband and very few other people get to see. Even as I fumed to myself about being caught in it, you decided that wasn't enough.

Your machine spotted the two vitamin supplements I had in my front jeans pocket. I'm big into supplements because I enjoy being healthy. I had forgotten about them. So the people behind the screen who look at the intimate parts of people like me decided I needed to undergo further searching.

Your agent pulled me out of line for an invasive pat-down. I felt like I should have been paid or apologized to by the time it was over. Two elderly ladies who were behind me in the security line and then on my flight looked at me with suspicion and whispers until we landed.

I understand your job and the need for security, but come on.

Ok, so I'm trying it again tomorrow. I have some big meetings to get to. I will try to make sure I have no suspicious shapes in my purse. I will make doubly sure I have no supplements, nothing at all in fact, in my pockets. No need to put your big hands all over me this time. Don't want the elderly thinking I am a terrorist anymore, either.

Have a good day.

Yours truly.