full cavity search: kwentong komyut

almost every full-blooded male has fantasized about being frisked and handcuffed by a playmate of the year (this year's winner - Carmela DeCesare. and i know this because...) in a police officer's uniform while being read a distortion of one's rights ("you have the right to remain horny..."). those delicate hands, always too small to hide the shame of areola and silicone, deftly exploring the unconquered regions of the body in search of a concealed weapon. my batuta perhaps? the operative word here is almost - i say this because i no longer share this fantasy with my playboy mag toting fellows. those who take the mrt would know what i'm talking about.

case in point - the mrt bag inspector. be wary of the tall security guard in the mrt's guadalupe station. he's the one with the sunglasses -those aviator rayban's made popular in the 80's, a universal symbol of authority (top gun's maverick, sgt. slaughter, john regala) - and he's quite a handful. or he gives quite a handful. their search routine is quite simple: the ladies' bags are checked for dangerous paraphernalia (weapons, explosives, a can of spray net), but they are never frisked even by female guards. it's a bit more complicated with us guys - our bags are opened, its insides tossed with what looks like the missing half of a pair of chopsticks. those without carry-all gear are given the simultaneous-belly-back-pat - both palms are used to gently massage both sides of the lower torso. and there are the lucky ones - those who look suspicious enough to be given both the garden-salad-bag-toss, and the back-and-up-the-wazoo-pat. this variation entails the patting of the lumbar region, technically. but for those taller than average blokes (such as myself), their butt-cheek (pick one) gets delicately caressed, with Officer Frisky's hand gliding towards butt-cleavage, and with a swift upward motion, one's hapless ass is given the grocery-atm-card-swipe. transaction approved.

i wouldn't be complaining if Officer Frisky had asked me out first. they don't call me man-slut for nothing.