“Fifties, platinum blond, too much makeup. They were probably pretty when they were young but now they just look like they’ve partied too much.”
“I see. And who was the other pilot?”
“Ah! Well that I won’t say!” he quickly stated.
“What! So, what’s the secret you’re sharing, then?”
“No, I’m not telling you his name. It doesn’t change anything to the story anyway.”
I pouted childishly and let him continue.
“The later it got, the more alcohol there was. Once we were all nicely drunk, the topic of sex joined in.”
“What a surprise!”
“Yep, always a popular topic. We could have just talked about it but Cecilia and Samantha had a better idea.”
Rupert paused voluntarily. I couldn’t wait to find out more.
“Come on! What did they suggest?” I questioned him again.
“They proposed a blowjob contest,” he finally exclaimed, giving me a shove.
“You’re kidding me! What a couple of perverts!”
“Yes, I agree!”
I was shocked yet impatient to know how the story went. I could never have participated in such a tournament to prove how I handle a stick. Although, I might have liked to be a fly on the wall. Rupert had to get on with his story. If there was the slightest traffic on the road I’d be late.
“The captain was married, so when he heard the proposition, he decided to leave.”
“Very responsible of him. Surely, he missed out. Cecilia and Samantha must have been disappointed it was just you and the first officer?”
“I don’t think they cared. Since the handsome pilot was new in the company, they had wanted him all to themselves. They could finally have fun with him.”
“And what about you? You didn’t fall under the two ladies’ charm, I hope?” I asked, baffled.
“Of course not! I also thought about leaving but the first officer was quite attractive so I offered to be the referee and viciously observe the competition.”
“Oh, you must have gotten quite the show!” I exclaimed.
“Sure did!” confirmed Rupert, with a shy smile, and then continued.
“Cecilia pulled an eye mask out of her purse, as if she had planned it all along. She blind-folded the pilot. He was ready to start and had already pulled his pants down. In the red corner, we had Cecilia Dawson and in the blue, Samantha Brown.”
“Oh! Stop it! Stop it! Such a demeaning story. I can’t believe they’d do that to impress a guy,” I declared, outraged.
“You want me to stop? The best part has yet to come, Scarlett,” said Rupert, luring me in further.
“No, no! Go on! I definitely wanna know who won!”
“Samantha went in first. She kneeled down and did exactly what had to be done. The pilot was going nuts. She kept going until I announced Cecilia’s turn. It was her turn to give everything her mouth had. The first officer got his money’s worth. He was in heaven. I finally declared the end of the match. The result appeared to be a tight one.”
“Who won?”
“The pilot couldn’t make up his mind, so he asked for overtime.”
“Ah! Bastard!” I exclaimed, offended.
“You mean, clever?”
“Yeah, cunning as a fox,” I admitted.
I really had to go. I started getting dressed as Rupert continued detailing how the competition went down.
“So, Samantha went at it again. She was loving it and was taking great delight in the game. Her throat was taking it all in, very deeply. Eventually, her time ran out. One last chance was given to her opponent. It was all or nothing!” said Rupert, really into it.
“And what about the pilot? Surely, he wouldn’t last much longer,” I added from the doorway.
“Ah! He was in ecstasy. Samantha had given it her best. But it’s when her opponent started the second round that he found real pleasure. There was no more competition. Real professionalism. The first officer didn’t last long. He exploded within two seconds!” declared Rupert, red-faced.
“Oh, why are you even blushing? So, Cecilia was declared the queen of blowjobs?”
Halfway through my sentence Rupert burst out laughing. He was doubled up with laughter. I didn’t understand why he was laughing so hard but I really had to go. I couldn’t wait any longer. I opened the front door to show my imminent departure. Who cares who won the stupid competition anyway, those two women are equally queens of blowjobs! I thought.
Seeing that I was leaving without waiting for the official winner, Rupert breathed deeply and tried to get serious again. After a deep inhale, he could finally speak again. He flashed an embarrassed smile, winked knowingly at me, and finally concluded.
“What if it was actually a king of blowjobs who had won the tournament?”
Chapter 11
Boarding – Flight to Nice (NCE)
When I got to the aircraft, the pilots had not arrived yet. Only two male flight attendants were already there. I assumed they were Nate and George. I introduced myself and they did the same. Just like Rupert had mentioned, they both looked very friendly. Nate was tall and skinny, and wore a beard. As for George, he looked a little bit older: smooth gray hair, somewhat effeminate mannerism. He was already talking about his flowers when I introduced myself.
I didn’t speak with them any longer, preferring to sit at row three to wait for the usual briefing to start. I waited for the rest of the crew to arrive and was ridiculously eager to see what Cecilia and Samantha looked like.
Seated on my passenger seat, I remembered Rupert’s last words: What if it was actually a king of blowjobs who had won the tournament? So, it turns out the rumor about blowjob contests with pilots was true. I couldn’t believe that Rupert had played a role in it all. It’s no surprise the first officer had quit his job right there. How embarrassing for him! In order to congratulate the talented winner, he must have lifted the eye mask as soon as he had relieved himself, but immediately realized that Rupert had failed as a referee. What a shock it must have been! And with the two queens laughing . . . At least the other pilot had been reasonable and had left before the competition even started. My John would also have left, I thought, absolutely convinced.
As I was pondering the whole story, my other colleagues arrived. They were laughing heartily. I quickly eyed them up. Two pretty ladies with soft traits and nicely styled hair sat in the row in front of me. They were talking about their kids, so I assumed they were Mary and Michelle. As for Cecilia and Samantha, I was convinced they were the ones who had just taken their seats in the front row. Their hair was in fact an immaculate platinum blond and their skin had clearly been exposed to too many UV rays, tainting the little class they had left. Their caked-up faces didn’t lie; they had had many life experiences. One of which was quite fascinating too! If only they knew what I know, I thought.
The chief purser started his briefing. As the captain had personally provided him with the flight details, he could get started immediately.
“Good evening, everybody! I see that everyone knows each other so let’s skip the introductions.”
No! That’s not true! I don’t know anyone, and no one knows me, I thought. Perhaps they had ignored me because I was seated at the back of the third row? Still, I had made sure to introduce myself to the purser when I arrived. I had to say something now to avoid making a bad impression and dealing with the consequences. As I was about to speak up, one of the blondes interrupted Nate and pointed her red-polished finger at me.
“Sorry, Nate, but I don’t know her,” she said, with a despising tone.
I felt as if I was intruding her personal aircraft and as if my young and clear skin maliciously bothered her. All eyes were suddenly on me, as if seeing me for the first time. Nate rectified.
“Ah yes! Sorry! I had forgotten about the newbie.”
Hm, excuse me? Newbie? Sure, I hadn’t been in aviation for twenty years yet but still, I had started over three years a
go. Now was not the time to get offended, though. I put on the friendliest of smiles and spoke with confidence.
“Hi, I’m Scarlett!”
I looked at the two women in front of me so that they could introduce themselves as well. Then I looked at the purser and repeated his name to indicate I remembered it. I did the same for George and finished my round with the two platinum blondes. I wondered which one was Samantha and which one was Cecilia. I suspected that the accusing index finger belonged to Samantha.
The first blonde looked me straight in the eye and with a great smile, introduced herself.
“I’m Cecilia. Nice to meet you, Scarlett,” she said.
I then looked at the second blonde, waiting for her to confirm my intuition.
“Hi, Scarlett. I’m Samantha,” she said, uninterested.
I knew it! I didn’t ask for more. Everyone now knew my name and I knew theirs. We could continue, which is what Nate did at once.
“Now that we all know each other, I’ll hurry up so we can get the boarding underway within the next fifteen minutes. Let’s start with positions.”
What a surprise! It was common procedure. Before having even heard the flight details, each flight attendant had to choose their position on the aircraft, according to their seniority. The most senior crew member would choose first, and so on. As I was the most junior crew member, I would get the last choice, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t get a position I liked.
George was first. Then Michelle and Mary. Cecilia was more senior than her best friend and chose to work at the back, with Mary. There was only Samantha left before me. She had to decide between the two remaining positions.
One position implied having to work in the main cabin, but sit in the middle of the aircraft, in front of passengers. The other meant sitting at the very back, away from passengers and being able to chat with colleagues while preparing the meal and drinks carts. Seeing her perfect manicure, I suspected Samantha wouldn’t risk working in the back galley and lifting heavy containers. She would likely have a fit if she broke a nail. So, as I suspected, she chose the position where she’d have to sit in front of the passengers, leaving me in charge of the back galley. The chief purser then continued his speech.
“Tonight, we will be operating flight 234 for Nice, with an estimated flight time of seven hours and fifty-five minutes . . . ”
“Arrrggg!” complained Samantha.
Her reaction didn’t come as a surprise. She looked like the type of flight attendant who belonged to the second group of old bags. Shabby bags who rarely went the extra mile. I must admit that eight hours did seem unusually long for a flight to Nice. Seven and a half hours would have been more reasonable and I could understand her disappointment. To me, thirty extra minutes meant that I’d have to fight longer to stay awake. But I doubted that Samantha was whining for the same reason. To her, the same additional thirty minutes simply meant that she’d have to work for longer. I could feel her sorrow. Nate ignored her reaction and went on.
“The flight is full. Three wheelchairs and two infants,” he added.
“Arrrggg!” she let out again.
The Crew Queen had complained again. Certainly, now, she had too many passengers to serve. She probably would have preferred an empty aircraft so she could sleep the whole flight. But without any passengers, would she still have a job? Surely, she hadn’t thought about that little detail. She asked for some clarification.
“Ah, really! Do we at least have our crew seats?”
“Yes, Samantha. Don’t worry. You’ll get your seats at the back so you can have a rest on your breaks,” confirmed Nate.
She finally calmed down and let our purser finish his long briefing. Strangely, I hadn’t heard Cecilia complain the way her platinum twin had. Perhaps I had jumped to conclusions about her. Cecilia possibly swayed between the two groups. Sometimes sturdy, sometimes shabby. I would soon find out. As for Samantha, there was no doubt she belonged with the useless bunch.
◆◆◆
The meal service was completed in no time. The carts were already filled with used, dirty trays. I was dripping with sweat, having been opening all the ovens to take out the hot passenger dishes. I hadn’t had one minute to spare. I couldn’t remember ever having been so busy before. Had the flight attendants really put the meals on the tray tables? Or had they thrown them at the passengers’ faces to get the job done quicker? I was baffled. Cecilia arrived at the back, ready to eat her dinner. I investigated the matter.
“I couldn’t stop for a minute during the meal service. Is it just me or did everyone get served unbelievably fast?” I asked, as if I had just witnessed an extraordinary feat.
“Yeah, the faster they’re served, the faster we pick up, the faster we can sleep,” she explained, as if it was very obvious.
“Ah! I see . . . ”
So, it wasn’t just an impression. I had given everything I had into my work just so that the rest of the crew could go to sleep sooner! I buried my frustration and pulled out the crew meal cart so that my dear offspring could finally eat.
I had barely opened the compartment when Samantha threw herself onto it. She started taking out a tray, then another, and proceeded to making up her own personal selection. I could see that the chickpea salad didn’t appeal to her since she replaced it with the green leaves. She needed a vinaigrette for her new salad but the Italian one already on her tray didn’t seem to please her. So she grabbed the sundried tomato dressing from another tray. However, she seemed to like the dessert. It’s as if I was observing a wolf devouring a deer. Her cute little cubs were patiently waiting in the background for their share of the feast.
The she-wolf finally sat down to eat. I would have liked her to make herself comfortable on one of the crew seats, away from me, but she decided to sit on a jump seat at the back instead. Between each bite, I could see her scrutinizing me, sneering. I didn’t make a big deal out of it and continued cleaning the wet counter. Suddenly, she resolved to talking to me.
“Scarlett, right?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Have you been with the company long?” she asked.
“Just over three years.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Nope, no one in my life.”
Her questioning didn’t surprise me. I even liked it. Clearly, Samantha wanted to have a chat. By asking this key question, the conversation could open up on different topics: where had I met my man; who was he; what did he do; what were our life plans. Unfortunately for her, though, she’d have to ask me another question as I didn’t have anything to say on the subject.
“Ah really! A pretty girl like you! Single! How come?” she asked, as if I held a logical explanation.
“Hm, apparently I’m too picky” I admitted self-consciously.
“No way! How old are you? Twenty-six?”
“No, twenty-nine!” I said, relieved to look younger.
“Ah! My love, if I was your age, I’d get a taste of just any man and wouldn’t bother finding a husband.”
“Yeah but soon I’ll be thirty!”
“Come on, darling! Thirty is the new twenty! Have some fun before it’s too late,” she advised.
Have some fun? Sure! But a taste? Whoa! Definitely not the way she did! I thought. Samantha wasn’t wrong, though. I should have fun. And that’s exactly what I attempted to do with my Extreme Flirt Game. I just hadn’t met anyone who turned me on enough to take it any further. Apart from John, I secretly thought. But I wasn’t allowed to think such things. Strangely, in the end, I kind of liked Samantha. A woman who literally had a taste for men, sure, but also a woman who knew how to have fun!
◆◆◆
The flight went well and my crew worked very hard, apart from the two shabby old bags who had fallen asleep for almost two hours on the crew seats, keeping the others from having a rest. Regardless of Samantha’s selfish behavior throughout the flight, I still appreciated our conversation.
A
nyway, the bad habits she had acquired over the years were certainly not about to change. And I had no desire to rise up against them.
I had spent some of the flight in the back galley, chatting away with Mary and Michelle. They had congratulated me for my Zen attitude toward my single life and had predicted that this attitude would inevitably put men in my path without me having to lift a finger. I was thrilled. What if they were right?
Chapter 12
Nice, France (NCE)
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Nice, where the local time is seven thirty a.m. and the outside temperature is sixty degrees Fahrenheit. We ask you to please remain seated, with your seatbelt fastened . . . ”
Sixty degrees! A bit cold for the beach. Although, it was still early and I was there for three full days. Surely, the day would warm up. The perfect temperature to go explore, I thought, picking up my carry-on.
Passengers had now disembarked and I quickly made my way to the exit. I was looking forward to being seated on the crew bus. My eyes were itchy and I suspected they were also bloodshot. And this is precisely why we call night flights red-eyes! I thought, stepping out of the plane.
I was the first one outside. I started to wonder how Samantha had not been out before me. She seemed to be the type who would run out before the passengers just to make sure she’d be on the bus before everyone else. Nevertheless, I walked straight out, rolling my little black suitcase behind me.
When I arrived at French customs, I noticed that the passengers were standing in my way. I went around them and walked all the way to the last customs agent, waiting for him to look at me. He immediately saw me and gestured for me to pass between his cubicle and his colleague’s so that I could get to the other side of security. I lifted my Aircrew Identification Card up so he could see it but he simply lowered his chin to show his approval. He barely even had a look. How pleasant is it to be landing in France! I thought.
I was used to traveling light and therefore didn’t have to wait for a suitcase at the luggage conveyor belt. I quickly spotted the exit sign and made my way toward it. I would soon arrive in front of two gigantic silver doors, which would automatically open as I approached them. They were made of shiny thick matter, keeping me from seeing through them and reflecting an image of myself instead.
Call Me Stewardess Page 11