Thursday, December 27, 2012
The day after Christmas, I flew to Salt Lake City to attend a funeral. My sister, Mickey, was a flight attendant for over 30 years, and I believe she deserves a medal. When I was a child, flight attendants were called stewardesses. It was a glamorous job. Telling someone you were a stewardess was like saying “Yes, I am Miss America and possibly Miss Universe”. Nowadays, flight attendants include men and the job has definitely lost it’s luster. Perhaps it is the flying public that has changed. Oh hell, the world has changed. Exploding shoes and underpants are only the start. By the time people strip, get their goodies x-rayed or patted down, and get re-dressed, they are pissed. The flight crews also have to endure going through Security, so they are probably also a bit cranky from the get go. It seems like a pretty thankless job to me. They have to know everything from meal service to using a defibrillator. Oh, and getting people off the plane safely in an emergency situation. Definitely not a waitress in the sky. My return flight home last night was on a low frills type airline. I’ve flown on them many times, but last night I felt like I was on a cattle car. I truly expected to see chickens and goats in the aisle. The flight attendant had to repeatedly tell the man next to me to stow his sack under the seat, while he kept asking if he couldn’t just hold it on his lap. Seriously??? The flight attendant looked like she had just rolled out of bed, but held her own with Sack Lunch Guy. An announcement was made that someone with a severe peanut allergy was on board. Therefore, we were asked to put away any we might have. I saw the lady across the aisle pick up half of a peanut that was lying on the floor, and put it in the seat pocket. I worried about that peanut for a few minutes. Was it out of the way enough, or would Peanut Sensitive Person still know? The sink in the back of the plane overflowed, so that had to be fixed before we could take off. Then we had to get de-iced. This stuff probably happens ALL the time. I’m pretty sure my sister thanks her lucky stars every day to be retired. I would, and then I’d kiss the ground.