I was reminded of this gem of a story by none other than Laith himself while I visited Chicago this past weekend. To be read in a Chicago-accented voice, adorned by the occasional "okay" or "you know" at the end of sentences...
So I'm traveling back from the Middle East after a long ass flight, and I've got this layover in Zurich. So, you know, I grab some drinks, I grab some more drinks, and am off on my way to the security line, which is like a mile long. So when I get to the walk-through metal detector and the fucking thing beeps, I've just about had it, okay? I take off my shoes, my belt, my watch, everything. I go back and forth, in and out, three times. It still fucking beeps. So they use the wand thing on me. And, of course, every time the man waves it over my crotch, it beeps.
(Now here's Laith doing a Swiss accent): Sir, what for may you have that may be metal?
(Back in the Chicago accent): I don't know, man, I've already given you guys everything I got.
(Swiss guy): Sir, please, what is this may be?
At this point, you know, I'm drunk, I'm fucking exhausted, and I still have a seven hour plane ride ahead of me. And as the words come out of my mouth, I know I should stop them, but I can't. I just can't shut my mouth. So I say to the guy:
Oh, I forgot. You guys don't have these here in Europe. Those are my BALLS.
And I get this horrified look on my face, and everything is silent, and the guy just looks and me for a minute, then waves me on with his wand and says Okay, sir, you are free to go.
I grabbed my shit, didn't even put on my belt or shoes, and got the fuck outta there.
I just couldn't shut up...
Brava, Cousin Laith, you magnificent bastard! Brava!
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