The naked machine

So I'm going through security at the airport yesterday morning.  The line is pretty short.  Things are flowing pretty smoothly.  Nothing unusual going on.

But right after I walk through the basic metal detector, this husky TSA agent guy directs me into this shiny new body scanning machine.  It's kind of cool-looking, and I think I remember reading about it in the news.

Anyway, the TSA guy starts explaining to me (speaking a mile-a-minute):
"Sir, because you are next in line, you have the option of being scanned by this machine or a pat down.  You have the right to request a pat down by a female or male officer.  blah blah blah..."

So I ask him, "Oh, is this the naked machine?"

I thought it was an appropriate question.

The TSA guy was not amused:
"No, this is not the naked machine. It's a magnetron, super-imaging,radioactive,dual imaging blahblahblah."

So at this point I realized he's not laughing, so I just say OK, scan me.

And then as soon as it's done scanning me, the guy looks at the screen and turns to his partner and says, "shoot, we're gonna have to re-calibrate again."

My friend Brian thinks all my positive energy must have broken the machine.

I think he's probably right.