When I got to the security at the airport, the TSA guy about had a meltdown. I was wearing a nice floral skirt with a sweater I picked up on sale a few weeks ago, and heels with black nylons. So he had some trouble deciding I was a guy and which button he should push on the millimeter wave detector. Then the machine flagged a few things, so he needed to do a pat down. He was trying really really hard to find someone else to do it for him, but they weren't bailing him out, his supervisor just looked at him like "you know what you need to do, just shut up and do it." The lady assisting asked me about 4 times if I wouldn't really rather prefer to have a private screening, so eventually I let them off, and said "yes, maybe it would be best."
So I went in the back room with the TSA guy and a witness. He spent about 5 minutes explaining every single thing he was going to do, although I think I knew more about the procedure than he did