Around the World in a Bad Mood! (15 page)

T
HIS BOOK WOULDN'T BE
complete without examining all aspects of the airline experience. So far, I've covered a great deal of material and I hope, gentle reader, that it has been enlightening. However, I have neglected to address an extremely important component, and that is the flight attendant. Oh yes, I've discussed them, described them, and included them in my tales. But in order for you to truly appreciate them and to understand the modern-day flight attendant, I must classify them. Besides, passengers and pilots can't always be the butt of the joke. And so in the interest of fairness and a thorough, unbiased account, I offer you now a carefully detailed study, an étude, if you will, of
THE FLIGHT ATTENDANT
. Please bear in mind, flight attendants are a very diverse group of people. In a sense they defy category. There's not a typical flight attendant, per se, but there are certain recognizable personalities.

Let us begin with a classic,
THE COCKPIT QUEEN
. She has been around since the beginning of time and will most likely remain with us until the bitter end. Does she want to meet a pilot? Does she want to find a husband? Does she want to find someone else's husband, or is she merely interested in aviation from a technical standpoint? The answers vary. I, myself, have spent a considerable amount of time in the flight deck, but that is because it's the only place where I can find solace from the unspeakable horrors of the crowded cabin. It's the only place on the plane, aside from the bathroom (which always has a long waiting line), that has a lock on the door. It is quiet and calm in the cockpit. The pilots are usually glad to have a visitor. The view is nice, and so is the change of scenery. For most of us it's a pleasant diversion, but not for the Cockpit Queen. Oh no, it is her home base. She's chomping at the bit to get up there and, once she does, you're not going to see her for a while. Everyone else will be preparing for the coffee and tea service, and the Cockpit Queen will be strangely absent. An inquiring mind will wonder aloud, “Hey, where the hell is she? I haven't seen her in forty-five minutes.”

“Take a guess,” another will respond.

“Again? God, with all the time she spends up there she should be able to fly a plane.”

“She's not up there because she's interested in flying.”

When you finally go up there to remind her that she has a job to do in the back, you will find her smiling and laughing, having a grand ol' time.

“Hey, it's time for the next service,” you boldly announce.

“Already? Have I been up here that long? Time just ‘flies' when you are having fun . . . ha ha ha hee hee . . .” Everyone laughs uproariously, as if it were the funniest thing they had ever heard. Then she follows you out of the cockpit, apologizing.

A harmless creature, but she can get on your nerves.

D
RAMA
Q
UEEN
:
Drama Queen can be male or female, it matters not. The most important thing here is that this character has a well-developed flair for the dramatic. And if there is no drama that day, Drama Queen has the ability to create some. Because a day without drama is a day without sunshine! And there's so much trauma in the drama. Whenever you run into this individual there's some major deal happening, and tension is in the air. She's flitting around, whispering things to other crew members. When you ask her what is going on, she raises her eyebrows, looks directly into your eyes, and says, very dramatically, “Nothing.” The Drama Queen loves to instigate trouble, and will stop at nothing to have a buzz going on around her. If she can't dig up enough scandal from her own life she will dig some up from someone else's life. One thing is for sure—it will not be a dull flight if Drama Queen is aboard.

L
OVE THE
P
ERKS
, H
ATE THE
J
OB
:
They usually have at least ten years seniority and can hold a regular schedule, but you can find brand-new people who feel this way also. They really don't give a damn about the job. They see it as a necessary evil, a means to an end. They need a paycheck and the benefits are nice, but the real draw is all the time off. They don't even necessarily like people or traveling. They fly the minimum amount of trips, do the minimum amount of work on the trips, and see their jobs with the airlines as a little break from their real passion in life. This “real passion” could be any number of things: real estate, going back to school, owning a small business, and my favorite of course, performing! Oh yes, so many stars in the sky. These folks are always begging you to come to their latest show. They're always droning on and on about how well their other career in the theater, film, or music business is progressing. If it's progressing so well, then why are they marching up and down the aisle collecting trash? To tell the truth, the performer's commitment to his “real passion” is admirable. I recently flew with a “jazz man” who was telling me about how he combined his music with his flying. It was really quite amazing. I mean, the guy was on reserve and yet he was playing gigs all over the world. He used his free travel benefits to get to the gigs and sometimes he would trade his trips so he could play a gig on his layover! He told me that he once worked a flight to Cairo and then ran to the hotel, changed his clothes, and took a taxi to some club where he was sitting in with the band. The following day he had to work a flight back to London. Another popular moonlighting profession is the salesperson. This individual is always selling something that he bought in bulk on his last trip to Hong Kong, Peru, or Macedonia. He often displays his goods on the layover and then offers them to the crew for purchase.

T
HE
K
NOW-IT-ALL
:
The Know-it-all believes he is right and you are wrong even if he is wrong. If he happens to be wrong, he will say, “OK, well it should be this way.” These flight attendants are a real drag. They feel it's their duty to share with you all the information they have, and to hear them tell it, they have plenty.

“You're setting up the beverage cart incorrectly! We're supposed to do it this way.”

“You didn't heat the meals at the proper temperature.”

“Your shoes don't have a high enough heel.”

“You better top off the ice.”

They are like little police officers, and if not kept in check they can mature into
THE DRILL SARGEANT
. Whereas the Know-it-all usually confines her corrections to flight attendants, the Drill Sargeant goes one step further: she throws it onto the passengers.

“Raise your tray table
now
!”

“You will fasten your seat belt this very minute.”

“Take your seat right now, sir.”

“Stop interfering with my duties.”

The core problem seems to be control/power issues. They must not have any control or power in other aspects of their lives, and since they have a little bit of authority on the airplane, they take it to the limit whenever possible. Now these people can be the nicest people once they get off the airplane. It's just that on the airplane this evil twin emerges and wants to take over the world. They think they're just doing their job, but in all reality they are making it difficult for everyone else on board.

T
HE
S
OUR
A
PPLE
:
Everyone is entitled to a bad day, but these people are always having bad days. Being miserable makes them happy, and they aren't completely happy unless everyone else is miserable right along with them. You could give them a million dollars and they would still be miserable. There they are baring their teeth, growling about life. Everything sucks! The job sucks, the company sucks, life sucks, and when you're working with this type of flight attendant you're going to hear about it to the last detail. “The lights are too bright, the cabin is too hot, we don't get paid enough, this hotel is a dump, this crew meal is awful, I hate this captain, these passengers are annoying the hell out of me”—and that's within the first five minutes of meeting them. And for me, the Queen of Bad Moods, to comment on this, you know it has to be pretty severe. I have a lot of respect for bad moods, but this is beyond a bad mood. I think the best way to deal with this kind of person is to “steer clear.” Too much negative energy.

T
HE
P
ARTY
G
IRL:
You gotta love this one! She's about twenty years old, and has maybe had a year or two of college, but it wasn't for her. She's not really the “studious type,” as she will tell you, and one look at her will tell you that is no understatement. You might see her in the elevator of a hotel with a bottle of champagne in her hand, a shit-eating grin on her face, and sometimes a lampshade on her head. This chick has one goal in life and that's to have a good time. There's not a serious bone in her body, and no matter how close she comes to trouble, it never quite gets his hands around her. She always lands on her feet and never gets caught. Actually, her enthusiasm is contagious and she's fun to fly with because wherever she goes there's something going on! She has boundless energy, and she can stay out all night and still be there at 6:00
A.M
. for pickup with a smile on her face. She lives for the layover, and on the airplane she practically joins the passengers for the cocktail service. You can take the girl out of Hooters, but you can't take Hooters out of the girl. One thing you want to avoid on the airplane is combining the Sour Apple with the Party Girl—this is not a good mix. Better to put Party Girl with Cockpit Queen.

T
HE
O
VERCOMPENSATOR
:
Male flight attendant. He comes on the airplane and wants to be sure everyone knows he's straight. The moment he meets you he gives you his bone-breaking handshake, but he's saying more than just hello. He's saying, “I'm straight. Straight as an arrow. Not all male flight attendants are gay! And don't forget it.” In case it should slip your mind, the Overcompensator will periodically (like every five minutes) remind you of his sexual orientation. “My
wife/girlfriend
and I are going on vacation,” “What kind of perfume is that? I think my
wife/girlfriend
wears it,” or “Would you like to see a photo of my
wife/girlfriend
?” Any opportunity for him to work the term “wife/girlfriend” into the first thirty seconds of conversation will be exploited to the fullest. Lest you still have any doubt in your mind, he'll then begin discussing professional football, baseball, hockey, or anything else to do with sports. A dull subject in my opinion, but by God he's going to discuss it anyway—at length. Once you arrive at your final destination, he will never be seen walking through the airport with the other flight attendants, especially if there are any gay males on the crew. He walks ahead with the pilots.

I
N ALL YOUR MANY
travels as a passenger on a commercial airliner, have you ever had the good fortune to be seated next to the galley where the flight attendant jumpseats are located? Oh, it's a real treat, I'll tell you! You don't need to shell out $5.00 for the audio/video programming. The entertainment next to the jumpseats is far better and much more stimulating than anything the airlines might offer you. While seated there, you're privy to all the galley gossip and assorted other little morsels that give you insight into the secret life of flight attendants. Flight attendants are often under the mistaken impression that when they've closed the galley curtain, no one can hear them. But voices do carry, especially when competing with a jet engine. Sometimes the jumpseats aren't even in the galley but in the cabin, and under those conditions you can really get an earful. If you are listening, you can learn a lot.

Usually flight attendants will be sitting in their jumpseats for takeoff and landing, and that's also where they eat their own meals after the service. Often they're engaged in conversation with other crew members. The thing you need to know about the nature of the flight attendant profession, gentle reader, is that quite often flight attendants have not necessarily met the other flight attendants with whom they are working on a particular trip. It's nothing like working in an office where you work with the same people day in and day out. In fact, when I go on a trip for work, I rarely work with the same crew members more than a few times a year. There's an ever-changing cast of characters. It gives the job a “stranger on the train” element. You feel you can completely open up and lay your burdens down at the feet of these total strangers because you'll never see them again. Here you are in Nashville on your way to San Francisco, and you're sitting about two inches away from a flight attendant you've never met before. The captain announces there's going to be a delay on the runway, but the flight attendants are to remain seated. Well, there you are, strapped in thigh to thigh with your new pal, good ol' what's her name. The two of you are in the galley jumpseat staring straight ahead at the ten meal carts two feet in front of you. Suddenly, she starts to cry.

“What's wrong, are you OK?”

“Oh, it's nothing. . . .”

You know it's something, but you try to be considerate of her need for privacy (rather hard to attain on an airplane) and respect her wishes not to discuss whatever might be the matter. After all, if she wasn't wearing a name tag, you would not even know her name. A few seconds later she starts to cry harder.

“Are you sure you're all right?”

“Oh, I'm sorry. It's just that . . .”

There could be a myriad of circumstances. Love-life problems, family problems, issues with other crew members on board, issues with passengers on board, problems with management, problems with medical bills, legal hassles, and so on. These topics in turn can lead to other topics, such as breast implants, birth control, fad diets, vacations, medications that relieve depression, medications that cause depression, exercise, how to invest in the stock market, teeth bleaching, gossip about other flight attendants, knitting, skiing, politics, Jesus, Chinese herbs, pilates, and transvestites—just to name a few.

“What is it? Do you want to talk about it?”

“Well, my brother-in-law skipped out on my sister and her ten kids. And then my sister split town with the man with whom she was having a love affair, and now I'm living in their trailer with the kids.” She was sniffling a bit, but maintaining her composure.

“Gee, that sounds pretty rough.”

“What?”

“I said that sounds pretty rough. I can see why you're upset.”

“Oh, that's not the problem.”

“What's wrong then?”

“I didn't get the Paris trip I wanted,” she wailed.

There isn't a jumpseat big enough. Sometimes you need a couch!

In times of great desperation, I've also made a lot of “jumpseat confessions” to other flight attendants, some of whom I've never seen again. But these strangers carry some of my secret sorrows with them. This can be a very dangerous practice because even though there are thousands and thousands of flight attendants, it's a small world after all, and it's amazing how your confessions can come back to haunt you. My only hope is that my flight attendant confessors will keep their big mouths shut, should my name ever come up on the crew bus or in the briefing room. If they should share my secrets in a public place, those secrets are bound to become part of the rumor mill, and when that happens the first thing you'll discover is that the rumor mill has completely disregarded the facts and made the story more fascinating. From that point on, and probably to the end of your career, your reputation will precede you, which is very annoying if the reputation is a false one.

For instance, let's say you told someone that you were breaking up with your boyfriend because he was moving to another city and the two of you had decided that it wouldn't really work out, but there were no hard feelings and you have parted the best of friends. No drama. After the rumor mill gets hold of the story, the next time you walk into a flight and introduce yourself you will get the third degree from absolute strangers who have somehow heard about your ordeal.

“Hi, I'm Rene.”

“Rene, Rene? . . . Are you based in New York?”

“Yes.”

“Are you the one who was dating that guy? Wasn't he an alcoholic or something? Or was that someone else? Wait a second, I think that alcoholic thing is someone else. Anyway, didn't some guy dump you because he had another girlfriend and you walked in on them and discovered them in a very precarious position and then you threw a vase at him, which hit him on the head and then he threw a telephone at you, which hit you in the left shoulder, and now he is moving to another city and it was one of the worst breakups of your entire life? Weren't you guys engaged?”

“No, that's not quite correct. In fact, it's absolutely wrong.”

“Well, honey, that's what they are saying about you around campus.”

After you pick your jaw up off the floor, you run the risk of having the story completely twisted out of proportion and then spread around the airline. However, the rumor mill can also work in your favor. Let's say you lead a really dull life, but you don't want anyone to know just how dull. When you sit down on the jumpseat and start talking to your seatmate and they say, “So, tell me about yourself,” you don't have to let on that you basically sit home every night, eating Lean Cuisine while watching reruns on Nick at Nite. Instead, you can embellish upon the facts of your life, or, if you choose, you can create an entire new identity for yourself. Of course, the problem with this is that you have to remember all the little (or big) lies you are telling about yourself so you don't get confused. I recommend keeping a little notebook in your flight bag.

Now there is the other side of the coin, which is, fortunately, far more common and that's the built-in support system that comes with the job. Misery loves company, and if you do have something you want to get off your chest, the jumpseat can be a great place to vent, even if you don't know your fellow flight attendant/therapist. Gets me through the flight. Most flight attendants seem to have an innate ability to listen, empathize, and usually give pretty good advice. I'm grateful to all my colleagues who have offered insightful counsel over the years. One day I was having a really bad time of it with a love-life problem. There I was sharing all the intimate details of my love relationship with a flight attendant I had never met before. Let's say her name was Helen. She was a lot older than I was, had been flying close to thirty years, and she was divorced. There we were on the jumpseats after the service: Helen was knitting and I was drinking a cup of horrible airplane coffee. The conversation went something like this:

“I'm so pissed off at my boyfriend,” I confessed.

“What is the problem?” she replied.

“I don't know, I think he's a player. I don't trust him. At first, he was so great. Really romantic and attentive. But it's been only a few months and now he is really aloof and demanding. I think it is probably going to end soon. Another one bites the dust.”

“They are all that way. What does he do?” Helen asked.

“I am almost embarrassed to say . . .”

“C'mon, what does he do?”

“He is a pilot. A captain, a rather senior captain.”

“For us?”

“Yep,” I answered.

“How long have you been flying, Rene?”

“Long enough to know better.”

“Hey look, it happens.” She didn't look up from her knitting. “Was he talking about marriage?”

“There was no official proposal, but he alluded to it. I kind of thought, Hey, if I did marry him, maybe I could quit flying and you know, do something else . . . like be an actress,” I said.

“An actress? Let me give you a little piece of advice, Rene, husbands come and go, but there's always another cup of coffee that needs to be poured or some more trash that needs to be picked up. Even if you did get married, I'd hang on to the job. There are so many great benefits to it,” Helen advised.

“Now you sound like my dad.”

“All I'm saying is I've known a lot of flight attendants who get married two or even three times, but they never quit this job because they realize what a good thing it is. Their careers are more long lasting than their marriages. The ones who do quit usually regret it.”

“Maybe you're right. This guy is really turning out to be a jerk. He thinks that just because I'm a flight attendant that I'm going to wait on him hand and foot at home.”

“I was married to one like that,” she said, and laughed. “He used to joke that he wanted me to wear my uniform around the house. Real funny. Underneath I think he was dead serious.”

“You know, Joe jokes about that with me, too. Must be a pilot thing,” I told her.

“They say that every joke has a little bit of seriousness in it. . . . Hey, did you say Joe was his name?” she inquired.

“Yes, Joe. . . . Why?”

“That's funny, my ex-husband's name is Joe. Did you say he's a captain?” She put her knitting down now.

“Yes . . .”

“For us, right?”

“Yes, he's a captain for us,” I answered.

“Does this boyfriend of yours live in Dallas, on a ranch, by chance?”

“How did you know? Don't tell me . . .” I was getting a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Helen obviously recognized the terror-stricken look on my face because she said, “Now, Rene, take it easy. I don't want to upset you, but is your boyfriend's last name Blow?”

“Yes, Joe Blow. That's his name.”

“Well, Rene, meet wife number one. I did my time from 1971 to 1980, perhaps you've heard of me. Have you met the kids yet? I'm the mom.”

“You're Rochelle's mom?” I asked incredulously.

“No, no, no. . . . That's wife number two! She is also a flight attendant. I'm the mother of Jim and Bill, they're older.”

“Jim and Bill? I have never heard of them. I only know about Rochelle,” I said.

“He may have forgotten about them. It was a long time ago.” She went back to her knitting with a smile on her face.

“What about wife number three?”

“What about her?”

“Kids?”

“None that I know of. She was a flight attendant, though. She quit, so you don't have to worry about running into her, but number two is still flying and still in love with Joe. Very bitter, you know she wants him back, blah, blah, blah. So watch out for her.”

I was stunned. “This is appalling! I can't believe you were actually married to Joe.”

“Welcome to the family, honey. How about another cup of ‘joe'?”