 I hate TSA with the fiery passion of someone who has no sight in one eye and can't hear very well. And I remember that they had to pat me and the dog down. And I'm fumbling my ID. Like, I can't find things. They're talking at me. I can't hear them. And I can feel all of the fears in my body about whether or not people will be able to support me or whether I'll be able to support myself. And...