We had a 6 a.m. flight to the Dominican Republic which, given my dad’s affinity for punctuality, meant we were at the airport at 3:30 a.m. Traveling with my family is literal hell. I love them and I love going on vacation with them, but traveling? There aren’t enough drugs or alcohol available that can make that a pleasurable experience.
My entire family went on to Punta Cana for Christmas and New Year’s Eve this year. And I literally mean my entire family – both sets of grandparents, all of my parents’ siblings and their husbands or wives, my cousins, and of course my parents, my sister, and me. We were the definition of rolling squad deep.
So here we are, at the airport, in the middle of the night, miserable. I had gone out with some friends from high school that night meaning I didn’t get home until late. By the time I drunkenly stumbled home I had to haphazardly pack my suitcases and the family needed to get to the airport. Normally I’m much more prepared, but I had only gotten home from school the previous day and when we returned from the DR, I would have to drive directly back up to school. That means I had only one chance to hang out with my high school friends, so I made the most of it. Was it the wisest choice? Definitely not. But to be honest, I didn’t really care that much. I prefer flying drunk, mostly because I prefer being drunk, and as I said traveling with my family is torture. So drunk was the best way to go.
The only problem was that drunk me forgot to do something very, very important. Airport security is a bore, constantly having to take off all jewelry, your shoes, any miscellaneous clothing. When I travel, I try to minimize this. I just had on a pair of leggings, quarter zip, and shoes. I had thought I had taken all of my jewelry off, but I had forgotten about three very important pieces.
I’d gotten my nipples pierced on my eighteenth birthday as a way of celebrating being an “adult.” I got my clit the following summer because a lot of the girls from my high school were getting their nipples pierced and it pissed me off that they were copying me. I’ve been described as somewhat competitive and occasionally psycho. It would seem that nipple piercings were becoming somewhat mainstream. Nowadays, having your nipples pierced is about as adventurous as having your naval pierced in the early 2000s — still vaguely taboo, but not enough to matter. Considering Kendall Jenner has her nipples done, how crazy can it even be? So to show all the other girls who was really the baddest bitch of them all (this is where my psychoticness mixes with my competitiveness), I got my clit pierced.
Back to the airport. I always take out my nipple and clit piercings when traveling with anyone in my family, mainly because they don’t know about them and they would judge me for it. My parents and I work best under a “don’t ask, don’t tell policy.” Sex and drugs are off the table. As long as I continue to get good grades, graduate, find a good job, and continue being a good person, my parents would prefer to remain in the dark about awkward things. I prefer that too. But this winter, I fucked up. Royally. In front of my entire family
I was one of the last ones to go through security and as is customary, the whole family waited for everyone before moving on to our gate. I went through the full body scanner, still very drunk, when much to my surprise, the alarm went off. Out I stepped and very clearly on the screen you could see three red dots, one on each tit and one on my clit. My parents were waiting for me, looking at the screen when the TSA agent asked me (quite loudly), “Did you take off all your jewelry, miss?”
I tried to covertly respond but it was useless. My family, my entire family, realized I wasn’t quite the good little girl everyone thought I was and my parents had never looked more uncomfortable in their lives. I thought about attempting to come up with a believable lie to explain it all away, but fuck it. “Don’t ask, don’t tell” had worked so well for the past twenty-two years, no use in trying something new now..
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