Call Me Stewardess

by Elizabeth Landry

  “Why not?” exclaimed Rupert.

  “Come on! That doesn’t make any sense. I know I’m quite picky and don’t normally like anyone but that’s no excuse to jump on the first man I like, especially when the lucky one is a married forty-year-old pilot who has kids!”

  “Yeah…” sighed the pair.

  “And, apart from the ice cream move, John didn’t give me any sign. Imaginary electric connections aren’t enough to act on!” I added, disheartened.

  My two friends were stroking my back out of compassion. Had I been able to travel back in time, I would have never wanted to meet John in the first place. It would have saved me the heartache, I thought, before continuing.

  “Once at the hotel, we all got on the elevator. I was still pondering the strange chemistry I had felt between John and me. I was wondering if I had dreamed it all up. The elevator stopped on the first level and Rupert and Ishma got off. Then, the two first officers got off on level two. It was just Anna, John, and me when the door opened again, on level three.”

  “I hope Anna got out of there as fast as she could,” let out Becky, looking at me impatiently.

  “Well, I thought John would get off. I was mentally prepared to say, Bye, see you tomorrow, but no! It’s Anna who got off and then the door closed behind her. At that point, it was only John and me inside the elevator. I was so surprised, I was speechless and completely uncomfortable.”

  “You mean you were shy,” clarified Rupert, based on the version I had given him on the plane.

  “Yes! Shy! Completely intimidated. And so was he, because he wasn’t saying a word. I quickly understood that we were the only ones sleeping on level four. Just me and him. No one else.”

  Suddenly, it all dawned on Becky.

  “You mean to say, you could have slept in his room and no one would have known? Please tell me that’s what you did!” she pleaded.

  I smiled.

  “Actually, it had become so silent in there I started to have doubts. Normally, whether we were with Ishma, or Anna, or even the other pilots, someone would say something, anything, to break the silence. But at that moment, nothing! I was no longer breathing, and John neither. I’m telling you, there was an indescribable tension in the air. A direct result of attraction? I can’t say, but it was as if the seconds had stopped and the damn door would never open. If I didn’t get out of there quickly, I was going to be pulled toward him like a magnet.”

  Rupert interrupted and I grabbed the opportunity to catch my breath.

  “You mean, if you stayed any longer in the elevator, you were going to betray your mighty principles.”

  “He isn’t wrong . . . I like taking risks but I wasn’t ready to betray what I believe in: fidelity. However, feelings were jostling inside me and I felt an inexplicable desire to express the attraction I had for him. My spontaneity was about to take over.”

  I took a few seconds to catch my breath again and continued on.

  “The door hadn’t opened on level four yet so I decided to observe his body language. He was standing straight, confident, gently smiling. He looked so handsome, so manly. I could sense the man in him but still, he wasn’t doing anything to indicate that he was attracted to me.”

  “Yeah, sure, but, Scarlett, those things can usually be felt,” said Becky. “Didn’t you notice anything?”

  “Yes and no! I definitely noticed that we were both uncomfortable but he stayed quiet. Not a word! I was dying inside and finally decided to do the same as him and not say anything.”

  “I get it,” said Becky encouragingly.

  “An eternity later, the door opened. I was so eager to get out that I quickly slid through the small gap to make it to my room. He did the same and headed to my right, three doors down from me. We were both nervously looking for our keys and I could still feel the intimidating chemistry between us. And then, don’t ask me why, but I lost it.”

  I paused to collect my thoughts. I was so ashamed of what I was about to say. I really could have done better. I refused to completely expose my disgrace to my friends but Becky forced me to.

  “So, Scarlett, what did you say? It can’t be that bad, come on! Admitting our weakness for the opposite sex has never been shameful. Go on!”

  “All right, all right! Well, I had just found my key in my bag and saw from the corner of my eye that John had opened his door. As he was entering his room, he turned his head toward me. I looked at him and heard him say, Good night! See you tomorrow! I wanted to answer but instead of wishing him sweet dreams I said something else. Dammit!”

  “And?” asked Becky, hanging on my every word.

  “Well, I said: You get on my nerves! and I entered my room quickly, like a coward.”

  “Wow! You didn’t sugarcoat it!”

  “Spontaneous, per usual. No idea how I came up with that!”

  As a matter of fact, I have the tendency to act on the spur of the moment, without thinking. Once I had made the mistake, I had to rectify the situation, which was quite embarrassing. The you get on my nerves shouldn’t be taken literally but it was already too late to explain myself. Anyway, seeing the smile on John’s face when he heard me, I assume he knew exactly what I meant. I was sure he now knew I had a soft spot for him. And then, not wanting to elaborate my statement, I had escaped to my room.

  Once inside, a mix of ridicule and relief had come over me. I had automatically banged my head on the wall. The bang had resonated throughout the room. I could only imagine the aftershock that made it to the neighboring walls. As long as it didn’t go as far as the third room down the hall, I thought.

  I had to get a grip. I wanted the man. Not in two days, nor two weeks, but right at that moment! The impossible separating us no longer mattered. Thoughts were rushing through my mind. I started breathing deeply, pacing around the room. My feet, rubbing against the carpet, were literally raising dust as I walked. I analyzed my options:

  1. Run to his room and seduce him;

  2. Call his room and evaluate my chances or;

  3. Stay put and do nothing.

  I had chosen the third option. Becky was offended.

  “Scarlett! He wouldn’t have said no, he’s a man! It may be months until you see him again, you know that. Still, you preferred to not do anything?” she scolded.

  “Yes! Exactly! That’s what I chose to do! Nothing. I wouldn’t have felt good about myself. He’s married, Becky! I would have slept with him, then what? Nothing! I would have been the one with a broken heart. And, had he wanted something to happen, he would have taken the opportunity to make a move since I had just revealed my feelings for him,” I explained, convinced I had made the right decision.

  “You’re right. I’ve had dozens of married men make a move without me trying. When that’s what they want, they go for it.”

  Becky was proud of me while still being disappointed that nothing had happened. I was saddened but also relieved to have stuck to my convictions. I didn’t know when I’d see him again but it was better not be too soon. It was about time I met other people and fell for another man. At that moment, I vowed to accept all invitations coming my way. Surely, it was only a matter of time before another man would steal my heart. It was worth the time and effort, so I had to give it a try.

  Chapter 10

  Nice (NCE) – Boston (BOS)

  I called it the Extreme Flirt Game and swore to accept every invitation I received. It was an improvised detox with one aim: forgetting about the handsome John Ross. My mind was set on going all the way with this and I stubbornly wanted to have fun with men, putting aside my restricting principles. Therefore, my choice of eligible candidates, although subject to a short list of criteria, would be almost unlimited.

  The candidates had to be, first and foremost, single. All who were in the process of getting a divorce, on a break, or separated were not eligible for my flirt sessions. And lastly, they had to be between the ages of twenty-five and forty-five years old. In short: I was ready to meet just
about anyone.

  Seeing the large number of candidates, the upcoming months promised to be quite entertaining. I was ready, no matter the cost, to gamble. Who knows, maybe my tender feelings for the Inaccessible Pilot would be banished once and for all? That’s what I was hoping anyway.

  Becky had introduced me to a couple of eligible men throughout the month of September but none had me really interested. Like a big girl, I had accepted some of their invitations. Our dates hadn’t led anywhere but at least it had helped lighten my mood. I was acquiring a taste for the game and actually wanted to continue playing.

  Then, one day, I ended up receiving an email from a senior colleague named Ben. It read: Hi, Scarlett, we do not know each other but I have a flight to switch. If you’re interested, it’s a seventy-two-hour layover in Nice. Wow! Of course, I was interested! Seventy-two hours in Nice! I read the email again and suddenly panicked. Surely I wasn’t the only one Ben thought of. He must have sent a message to other flight attendants as well in order to make the switch as quickly as possible. Therefore, I hurriedly replied to him. Such an offer could disappear in the blink of an eye and I didn’t want anyone to beat me to it.

  The flight exchange had great timing. Now that I had adopted my new Extreme Flirt philosophy, little getaways abroad could be perfect opportunities to meet some candidates from across the Atlantic Ocean. Who knows? I waited impatiently for Ben’s confirmation and after a whole day, found out that the switch had been approved. I felt as if I had won the jackpot! Even after just over three years of flying, I had never seen such a pairing on my own schedule. Ben, for some reason, was taking my Paris-no sleep-deadhead-Istanbul with nineteen hours rest, from Friday to Sunday (ew!) and I was to take his seventy-two hours in Nice with direct flights, from Monday to Friday (yeah!).

  That night, I got ready for work thinking about Nice and its pebble beach. Although it was October, I was hoping it would be warm enough to enjoy the Mediterranean Sea. I hadn’t even left yet and was looking forward to being there.

  I looked at my watch and realized I still had half an hour before I had to leave for the airport. I settled in on the couch with my laptop and had a look at my crew. Hypocritically, I was hoping to see John’s name on the list. I was disappointed with myself but fortunately did not see any familiar names. I was curious to find out who Samantha and Cecilia were, though. Their names rang a bell. Only one person could help in this situation and luckily, he could be found in the next room.

  “Rupert, can you come here a minute, please?” I yelled with urgency.

  I looked at my screen again and stared at the seniority numbers next to each of the names: 2, 20, 25, 45, 68, 70, and then mine, 1014! I was definitely dealing with a crew of old bags. I got scared.

  Ever since I started working in aviation, urban legends were going around the airline. Many of them were about flight attendants with a lot, a lot of seniority. We called them old bags and I heard that some were nice and sturdy, while others were just shabby old bags.

  I also knew that some of these cabin crew’s reputations were true as I had often flown with a couple of them. Luckily, I had stumbled on a good bunch: men and women who had been flying for twenty years or so and who were still passionate about their jobs. Out of love for their work, they had served an inconceivable number of passengers and had put up with cigarette smoke, back when it was still allowed to smoke on board. Even after thousands of hours of flying, they were still smiling and dedicated. They were Top Quality Bags.

  Unfortunately, the opposite was also true. Like night and day. Birth and death. Cold and heat. Sturdy and Shabby bags.

  On the flip side, shabby bags are self-centered and act as such from takeoff to landing. They are, just like the vigorous kind, men and women who have been flying for a number of years and have helped thousands of passengers. However, these flight attendants no longer love their work. They keep their jobs out of need. They don’t appreciate the passengers’ needs and a single request from them can send them over the edge. They do not smile and as soon as their side of the aircraft has been served, they prefer to sit on the crew seats instead of helping their colleagues. Like useless old bags! I was really hoping none of them were on my flight itinerary. Again, I got worried.

  “Rupert! What are you doing? Come here, quick!” I panicked again.

  Still half naked, he came out of his room.

  “What’s wrong with you? Where’s the fire?”

  “No fire, but almost. I’m leaving tonight for Nice and just had a look at the crew list. The flight attendants flying with me are way too senior! I need to know what you know about them. I’m worried they’re all old bags who aren’t gonna do anything,” I explained.

  “Ah! I see. Let me have a look at the names.”

  Rupert was behind me. He bent down and rested his head on my shoulder to look at my screen.

  “The chief purser is Nate Martin. He’s number two in the company. He’s awesome. He’s gonna like you. He’s a bit serious but works hard and commands respect.”

  What a relief! A purser should always lead by example and create a good workspace. If, inadvertently, a rotten old bag was among us, she wouldn’t dare lag behind with a purser who commands respect. Although, urban legends exist for a reason, I thought. Rupert then continued.

  “George is also very nice. He might spend most of the flight talking to you about the flowers he cultivates in his sunroom but it could be worse. As for Michelle, she’s as gentle as a lamb, so you’ve got nothing to fear. She always brings her lunch on board and it always looks delicious.”

  Until then, it looked as if I had come across a crew of nice old bags. I was almost looking forward to meeting them. It was soon time for me to leave, so I urged Rupert to finish his analysis.

  “Lucky! You’re flying with Mary Andrews. An angel! Always ready to help. You’re gonna like her.”

  “All right. Looks like everyone’s nice. Great! Do you know Cecilia and Samantha?” I asked, as my last question.

  “Cecilia Dawson? And Samantha Brown?” he quickly clarified.

  The look in his eyes completely changed. He seemed surprised to hear me pronounce their names. I looked at the crew list again and read the last two names again.

  “Yes, exactly. Dawson and Brown,” I confirmed.

  “Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!” he let out sharply.

  Surprised by his reaction, I closed my laptop and looked up to try and understand what he meant.

  “Scarlett, those two women . . . they’re . . . they’re . . . Ah! I don’t know how to explain . . . ”

  I didn’t know where he was going with this. He seemed surprised, yet embarrassed to hear their names. I needed more details.

  “Rupert, what happened with Cecilia and Samantha? Did you sleep with them or what?” I exclaimed.

  “Come on, Scarlett! Me, sleep with women?”

  “What did they do to you, then?”

  “Well, it’s actually what we did . . . ”

  “Fine! What did you all do, then?” I quickly asked.

  “Bad, bad things!” he said, embarrassed but also smiling.

  “Such as?”

  “I was young, drunk, and stupid that night!” he justified, without offering any more details.

  “Rupert, we were all very naïve when we started with Americair. I’ll understand. Go on, tell me what happened.”

  “Hm, I don’t know if I should tell you,” he teased, suddenly amused by my curiosity.

  His little secrets were starting to seriously get on my nerves. Why wouldn’t he tell me what he had done? I had been his roommate for three years! It was irritating!

  “Rupert! Just tell me! The suspense is annoying. I’m your friend. It can’t be that bad. If you don’t tell me, I’ll ask them. I’m flying with them tonight, you know,” I said, trying to manipulate him into revealing his secret.

  “Don’t you dare ask them anything. And don’t even mention we’re friends. If I tell you the story, you can never ever
mention it on board,” he warned.

  “Why? They hate you?”

  “No! But what happened that night created a huge commotion. Since then, they allowed rumors to go around, but I’ve never said anything. I decided to hide the truth. Nobody should ever find out.

  “Rupert-the-Gossiper keeping a secret! What’s so precious about it?” I asked.

  “It’s because it implies a pilot and the whole thing turned sour for him.”

  “Ooh! Interesting! Who’s the pilot?”

  “Remember, a few years back, the handsome pilot who quit out of the blue, after having worked a mere three months at Americair?”

  “The one who had decided not to operate a flight back from Paris, without any explanation?” I asked, increasingly more interested.

  “Yes, him.”

  “Weren’t you there actually?”

  “Well, that’s exactly why I know the reason he left,” he admitted, still without providing more details.

  “So, tell me! Quick, Rupert, please! I have to leave in fifteen minutes. I swear I won’t tell anyone. Not even Becky,” I pleaded, tired of waiting.

  “You can tell Becky, but not another soul!”

  “I swear on my mother’s grave!”

  I sat back down on the couch and Rupert quickly stepped out to put on a sweater. He came right back and sat next to me in the living room. His story seemed really weird and I was hoping he’d quickly reveal the details so that I could be on my way.

  “All right, let me remind you that when I first started in aviation, I screwed up, I did stupid things. You kissed pilots who had girlfriends and I did things too, okay?”

  “Yes, Rupert, I won’t judge you. I promise!” I assured him.

  “The story takes place in Paris, a few months after my very first flight. There was a captain, a first officer, Cecilia, Samantha, and me.”

  “What do those two women look like, so that I can have a clear picture?”