Call Me Stewardess

by Elizabeth Landry

  “If you step foot on that plane, you won’t be able to get off and you’ll have to operate the flight,” one of them was saying.

  “You have the right to leave. You’re at an American base. We have to follow our union contract!” said a pro-unioner.

  Neither I nor the others wanted to make the situation worse. Our intention had never been to insult anyone. We had done things the right way and had notified them of our refusal within reasonable delay, but to no avail. No we were being pulled toward the damn aircraft against our will, as if attached to an invisible string. All the love I felt for my job had suddenly vanished. I hated Roberto for acting that way. I despised him. I loathed him. I hated Americair, the airport, airplanes, everything!

  Nevertheless, we made it on board. I was so angry I had tears in my eyes, knowing that I wouldn’t get any sleep but would be flying to Barcelona instead. My tears represented my helplessness facing the Final Judgment. I stored my suitcase in an overhead bin and started my pre-flight checks. I was barely checking under the seats. I forgot to check my first-aid kit. I wasn’t really looking for any firearms in the seat pockets. I no longer cared. I actually couldn’t care less!

  Per usual, I went to the front to sign my name on the emergency sheet, certifying that I had done my pre-flight checks according to regulations. When I got to the front, Roberto was holding the sheet and handed it over to me. Before signing it, I looked at him and decided to face him.

  “You know, if I wanted, I could not sign this sheet,” I said, hoping to have him understand that him yelling orders hadn’t played any role in my decision to board the plane.

  Roberto looked at me, skeptical. I noticed his left eyebrow arch up before he opened his mouth to reply.

  “Sorry, I don’t understand your moaning,” he said in a very condescending way.

  I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly so wanted to make sure.

  “What do you mean, moaning?”

  I couldn’t believe it! He was treating me like a child! I could feel the tension increase between us. I thought maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. But I didn’t feel like it. I was going to stand up for myself, or at least try to. Hearing my question loaded with attitude, he moved in closer and rested his hands on the back of a seat. He frowned and declared:

  “No, I don’t have to deal with your moaning. I have a real job to do and it doesn’t include babysitting children like yourself. You have a problem with that?”

  I was dying to start a conversation about that because yes, yes I had a problem with that. He was our chief purser. His job included having to look after us, after every single one of us. He was supposed to be there to support and help us in situations like these. Not wanting to get into a really bad argument, I answered that I didn’t have a problem with that. However, wanting to push it just a little more, I decided to repeat my statement.

  “Well, I just want to make sure you understand that I could refuse to sign this sheet if I wanted to!”

  My comment had the effect of a nuclear bomb. I should have seen it coming. His eyes became big and round, like golf balls, and I could see red veins popping out of them. Roberto was transforming into an in-flight monster. Suddenly, he looked down at his victim, which happened to be me, and roared with all his power, extending his claws:

  “Sign this fucking sheet! NOW!”

  I remained calm and stood up straight but internally, I was terrified by the man. DISASTER! DISASTER! DISASTER! I replied one more time but this time, to myself, just to make myself feel stronger. And maybe to continue my “moaning.”

  “I’m gonna sign the sheet, but you have no right to talk to me this way!”

  I finally signed the document and quickly left into hiding. I had no desire to see his arrogance bite me again. Maybe he could even spit fire, who knows? I was scared of this Roberto IN-FLIGHT MONSTER so I hurriedly found Rupert to tell him all about the situation.

  When I found him, he seemed to have gathered his strength. He was already working away, counting the trays in the central galley located between the second set of doors of the aircraft. I explained my recent trauma. He rubbed my back, telling me everything would be okay. I wasn’t so sure but looked down in agreement. Again, my eyes filled with tears. I rested my elbows on the counter, trying to get my wits back. I concentrated and visualized the busy gardens of Barcelona. I pictured myself holding a glass of delicious rioja. How comforting! As I was getting carried away by my thoughts, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I was convinced it belonged to Rupert and held it tight. Then I heard a comforting voice that sounded nothing like my roommate’s.

  “Everything will be fine, Scarlett . . . ”

  I recognized the kind and reassuring voice right away. A manly and hoarse voice. My knees went weak again. It looked like Captain Ross had sensed my breakdown. The shivers I got from Roberto-the-In-Flight-Monster were nothing compared to the ones I got from my captain.

  “I know it’s not easy right now and you’re not legal for takeoff. However, I want to thank you for coming with us. In return, I’d like to take you guys out to dinner when we get to Barcelona. What do you think?”

  The invitation was more than tempting, it was irresistible. I was delighted but made sure not to reveal it. I dried my tears. I was stuck on this aircraft so might as well be a prisoner along with the endearing John Ross. I smiled and gathered all the energy I had left, which I needed to go through the next seven hours and forty minutes.

  Chapter 8

  2,000 feet above Barcelona (BCN)

  When on a plane, some individuals seem to make it their own personal mission to annoy the cabin crew. I’m referring to the “friendly” passengers who never go unnoticed and always find a way to be distracting on board. It’s inevitable; even when they’re sleeping, eyes closed and tucked in their blankets, one of them will manage to be annoying. He’ll either have both his feet in the aisle, meaning we have to wake him up every time we have to get through with our cart, or he’ll come to the back of the aircraft, hours after the meal service, to advise us we forgot his dinner. Of course, it’ll be our fault, not his.

  In fact, many passengers have the bad habit of putting the blame on the flight attendant. It must be nice to live life without any self-criticism, right? They’re quick to point their finger at us: “You forgot me!” or “You didn’t come down the aisle with the duty-free!” Why are they so adamant about immediately attacking us? They would simply need to ask and I’d be right back with perfume for them to buy. No need to attack me. I’ve got proof of my innocence anyway. It was actually me who, earlier, walked down the aisle with my cart and witnessed the same accusatory lady with her eyes wide open, chatting away with her neighbor. I saw her peek at my Chanel and Givenchy perfume bottles. But oh well, memory has a way of fading, so I won’t mention it.

  Me, Myself, and I passengers, as I like to call them, usually manifest themselves early on in a flight. I would even say they show themselves right from the beginning, during boarding. Strangely though, flight 642 from New York to Barcelona didn’t appear to carry any of them. It was much better that way as I didn’t feel like handling their tantrums. The various disasters we had just been through were enough and I truly believed, or at least hoped, that I had had my share of Ruperian adventures.

  Even after our three-hour delay, passengers had obediently taken their seats. None had seemed to be bringing every single thing they owned on board and the overhead bins had seemed almost empty when we went about closing them. I hadn’t had to play my usual role of the Weightlifter Flight Attendant for my high-maintenance passengers; they lifted their bags themselves. I hadn’t received an excessive amount of requests from them either. When I made it to my jump seat for landing, I almost, almost, had a smile on my face.

  Once seated with my seatbelt fastened, ready for our arrival into Barcelona, I started thinking about my upcoming evening with John. I was still hoping to find out more about him. There’s no harm in being friends, I thought, lying to myself. At
least thinking about him was helping me stay awake. As I was seated in front of passengers, it was very important to look awake. I definitely couldn’t fall asleep, even a little, as my main task was to remain alert and ready in case of an emergency. The descent went smoothly, and looking out the window, I could see the Mediterranean stretch out along the coast. Then, I heard the landing gear engage. The wheels were well in place for landing.

  Suddenly, three rows down, a woman jumped from her seat and started walking toward me. Dressed like Coco Chanel, she didn’t seem ill or anything. Her complexion looked quite fresh and pink. Actually, she appeared to be a Me, Myself, and I passenger. I should have known better. A flight without any creature like herself was simply impossible. There would always be one appearing before the end, but thirty seconds prior to landing was definitely not a good time.

  I remained in my jump seat as there was no way I was going to hurt myself for this Lady Coco. She was moving toward me, so I decided to stop her as she passed by. She was barely looking at me, staring at the lavatories my jump seat was attached to instead. I called out to her.

  “Ma’am, we’ll be landing in a second, please go back to your seat.”

  Lady Coco looked down at me, determined to not go back to her seat and continue on with her game plan. She lifted her hand up to her mouth and announced:

  “I’m gonna puke!”

  Really? I didn’t believe her. It was obvious she wasn’t sick. She just wanted to use the lavatories here and now, at 2,000 feet above ground, going at a speed of 180 miles an hour. I couldn’t let her go past, as my duty was to look after everyone’s safety. I had to make sure she didn’t hurt her pretty little self. I reinstated my request more firmly.

  “Ma’am, you need to be seated for landing.”

  Lady Coco then looked at me in a sneaky way, put on a pitiful, ill face, and repeated she was about to vomit. At that moment, I became utterly uninterested in her safety. I had informed her of the procedures but she had refused to respect them. She might as well hit her head on the toilet seat! I thought, rolling my eyes at her. I lifted my hand toward her to show her through.

  “Just go!” I declared, not bothered anymore.

  I no longer felt like myself. I wasn’t worried about the woman’s safety. I was almost hoping she would hurt herself. I really needed to get some rest! I glanced out the window to see how close we were to the landing strip. We were already on it. We landed ever so gently, without any bump. I was disappointed. I would have appreciated a nice gust of wind. We were quickly driving down the runway when I heard the toilet flush. Barely a minute after she went in, Lady Coco came right out. She walked by and as if landing in the lavatories wasn’t out of the ordinary enough for her, she turned around and faced me. As I was still on my jump seat, the height difference gave her a feeling of superiority. She pointed a finger at me, as if telling off a child.

  “Don’t you dare ever speak to me like that again!”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was the flight attendant, the one with authority on this aircraft. But Mrs. Me, Myself, and I was commanding me to not speak to her like that! Was she now trying to teach me a lesson? I wasn’t ready to lash out at her so with a calm, yet authoritarian tone, I justified myself.

  “I did that for your own safety, ma’am.’

  That woman must have had a problem with authority and surely must have behaved like a queen her whole life as she pressed on:

  “I refuse to be spoken to this way!”

  And she was insisting too! Now, that was enough! She had dared to get up in the middle of our descent just to use the lavatories. She had even landed while still inside them. I knew she hadn’t vomited as my head was right next to the wall and I could hear every little sound coming through it. Lady Coco had come out after a millisecond and instead of returning to her seat without a word, she had positioned herself right in the emergency exit, in front of the passengers seated across from me. Now she was lecturing me in front of everyone as if I was just a little girl, and above all while we were still moving fast on the ground. I exploded!

  On the spur of the moment, I turned into an animal. A dragon was born in the sky. My nostrils flared and smoke was coming out of them. I could spit fire. I unfastened my seatbelt and literally leaped in front of her. I was now about three heads taller than Lady Coco. She was just a little bug, a small grape I could easily crush. I stood straight, shoulders back. My eyes turned red and my eyesight sharpened. I could see everything, every little piece of dust floating about the cabin. The former pretty air stewardess was nowhere to be seen. I was now the devil himself. I was no longer whispering, but shouting instead.

  “ENOUGH! Go back to your seat NOW!”

  My voice traveled through the whole plane. Rupert, who was seated at the door across from me, looked at me, astonished and amazed. I had yelled so loud at her to go back to her seat that my throat was hurting. I had actually spat fire. Tiny Lady Coco looked up at me. She looked like a poor stray dog. The dark rings around her eyes seemed even darker. She hesitated, her paws trembling, the hair standing on her back. She searched for a comeback, but none came to her. Then, silence. Without a word, at least for the moment, she turned around and went back to her seat. I had won. The aircraft was still moving, so I returned to my jump seat. I was hoping this would be the end of the story. I was exhausted. I had gone through enough for the day. However, I knew very well the Lady Cocos of this world and I knew that this one wouldn’t call it quits so easily. This was only the beginning.

  ◆◆◆

  “Ladies and gentlemen, Americair would like to welcome you to Barcelona, where the local time is one p.m. and the outside temperature is eighty-two degrees Fahrenheit. We ask you to please remain seated with your seatbelt fastened until the captain turns off the seatbelt sign.”

  The aircraft finally came to a stop. I immediately unfastened by seatbelt, eager to stand up. I was about to faint out of fatigue. With itchy eyes, I disarmed my door and ensured that Rupert, my counterpart, had disarmed his as well. Soon, I’d be able to lie down in a comfy bed and snore away the exhaustion. Although, I suspected I’d first have to neutralize my opponent.

  Our passengers were about to get off. Rupert opened his door. An announcement was made.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, you may now disembark through the second door on the left. Thank you!”

  I started sending off my passengers with a great smile and relaxed thank-yous and goodbyes. I was trying to look Zen, hoping that Lady Coco would come to her senses. I didn’t want our showdown to go any further. She had gotten on my nerves and I had cracked. I was ready to overlook her behavior and was hoping she’d do the same and would keep walking by, silently, until she was out of my sight. I tried my best not to look in her direction, but her seat was only three rows away. It was difficult not to notice her stately demeanor slowly approaching.

  Lady Coco had thrown her shoulders back, lifted her chin, and buttoned up her jacket. I could feel her eagerness to get past the other passengers and reach me, her prey. She hadn’t laid down her arms like I had hoped. Instead, she was fully charged and ready to pounce. She slowly made her way to where I was standing.

  Passengers were trickling off the aircraft, giving me time to observe Lady Coco approaching. I had no idea what was to come but I was dreading it. It was down to just one passenger between me and her. He thanked me and turned to his left, toward the exit, thus unveiling my dear enemy. Lady Coco, as planned, moved forward, but before turning toward the exit, she stopped. She was now blocking the other passengers’ way. She waited a moment, then exploded.

  “I want to see the captain! I want to make a complaint! What is your name?” she barked at me.

  I wasn’t going to give her my name just to have her falsify the facts in her favor. I had run out of empathy a long time ago, so I put on a more arrogant attitude and told her:

  “Sorry, but I won’t give you my name.”

  My refusal to provide my name made her go
even wilder. Still blocking the exit for the other passengers, she insisted.

  “I want to see the captain now! I want to make a complaint!”

  Aw! She wanted to complain to the captain! She obviously knew nothing about aviation rules as a pilot is here not to hear out the passengers’ complaints but to take them to their destination. The purpose of having flight attendants on board is to manage human crisis, but since she wanted to see a captain, I thought I’d introduce her to one right away. I responded to her request.

  “All right, you may see the captain. However, you’ll have to wait for all other passengers to deplane. Have a seat,” I firmly ordered her.

  She took a seat, livid with anger at me for making her wait to see the “captain”. Meanwhile, I put on my loveliest smile and continued wishing the best to my passengers.

  “Thank you! See you soon! Gracias! Enjoy! Hasta luego!”

  The aircraft was finally empty. I gestured to Lady Coco to follow me and walked to the front of the plane. I commanded her to sit at row four, just before the first-class section. She complied. I made my way to Roberto-the-In-Flight-Monster and quickly explained the situation. As I had hoped, he listened. I knew I wasn’t to blame for anything as I had simply done what I had been hired to do: ensure everyone’s safety. Regardless of our pre-flight disagreements, flight attendants would always obey the unwritten rule of solidarity. Roberto, although he had been a horrible creature to rub shoulders with, would certainly ignore our small dispute and join forces with me in front of the passenger. Victory was within my reach.

  He moved toward Lady Coco, who was still waiting on her seat. I followed.

  “What is going on, ma’am?” he asked, to find out her version of the story.