Fortunately Julia and three other crew are already seated with drinks in hand. There is no Wendy in sight. With Julia are crew who worked at the front of the plane; two guys and a girl. All are slightly older than me, relaxed, and welcoming.
'We were just talking about Wendy Cranston' says Julia.
I didn't know Wendy's last name until now. I don't like Wendy, but I am hoping this gathering is not going to turn into a bitching session. Everyone knows Wendy and from their expressions, no one likes her.
'Poor Danielle has to work with that cow' sympathizes Wendy.
To Julia's credit, she lets fly with just a few expletives before offering to change the subject to: 'something a little more pleasant.'
Everyone else is on the same page. I quickly discover that none of the other crew wish to talk about onboard events. They are all experienced, having been flying between 23 and 32 years - long enough not to be tempted into the trap of talking about onboard procedural issues or dragged down by some of the negatives of the job or some of the people around them.
These people love life. All are upbeat and fun. No one dominates the conversation and no one is negative. Add a few drinks to the mix and this is a night I wish would never end; five of us having great conversation in a beautiful location.
We talk about things I rarely hear discussed, including some of the funnier moments while away, particularly in hotels. We spend half our lives in hotels within foreign countries. Between us we have stayed thousands of nights in hundreds of hotels across the globe; it is inevitable we have stories to tell.
The subject of being naked in a hotel foyer or lobby came up. I am not sure how or why the topic was raised, but I listen attentively. I know my friend Mary has two incidences (that I know of) at the same hotel, where she ran around the foyer buck naked after knocking on hotel doors. Her tirade was pill and alcohol-induced. This time the crew are talking about accidently being locked outside their room. To my surprise everyone had a story, where it happened to a friend or to themselves.
One of the guys talked of a night in Singapore where, in the early hours of the morning, he wandered naked out onto the balcony to take in the view. Our hotel at that time had great views. He was on a high floor, around 30 floors up, so no one at street level was going to see him, and no other rooms looked in either. To go outside naked is no big deal, the only trouble is the sliding glass door to the balcony was self-closing. It should not lock when it shuts, but in this instance it did. He was locked out. All the glass is soundproofed, so as much as he yelled, no one could hear him. At four in the morning the chances of someone walking out onto their balcony in one of the rooms near his was remote.
He stayed out on the balcony, naked, for hours. It wasn't until nearly midday the next day, when he had missed answering his mandatory wake-up call, that hotel security opened the room to find the guy red-faced and naked on the balcony. He laughed about the incident, although it could easily happen to anyone. Singapore is on the equator so it is hot. Imagine being stuck outside, naked or scantily dressed, in a northern European city in winter? It sends shivers down my spine just thinking about it.
One of the possible hotel scenarios which has played on my mind is when placing something like a room service tray outside the room, the door, which is usually heavy and self-closing, slams shut. I keep one foot inside the door, just in case, but I can see how easy it would be to be locked out of your room. It happened to Julia.
Julia reveals she was wearing only a G-string when a door slammed shut behind her, leaving her standing near-naked in the hallway.
As she was telling the story I could just imagine the panic Julia felt. When you are tired, jetlagged, and possibly a little drunk, it can easily happen.
'What did you do?' I asked, anxious to find out how she handled the situation.
Many of the hotels we stay have a hallway phone on each floor, however Julia pointed out that there was no phone at this hotel. The last thing she wanted to do was scramble into an elevator and then waltz into the public view of the hotel's lobby. Julia knew most of the hotels place crew in rooms within close proximity of each other. It was early hours of the morning; with the rooms either side of hers occupied, the do not disturb signs hanging over door knobs. Julia thought back to when she checked-in to the hotel. She could not recall anyone from her crew entering these rooms, but was unsure.
She placed her ear against the first door, hearing no noise from inside. She moved to the next door. This time she could hear that the television was on. Julia took a deep breath, covered one arm and hand over her breasts, and knocked on the door. She stood back enough for whoever was on the other side of the door to look through the peephole to see her standing there red-faced, next-to-naked, and mouthing the word help.
'Is that you Julia?' said the voice of a very surprised man.
He was crew, not from Julia's flight, but he obviously knew her. How lucky was she?
He handed her a bath towel to then call reception to have staff open her door for her.
Julia said she was so relieved she even offered the crew member a sneak peak of her near-naked body as a thank you.
'Had he been straight he would have accepted' she reveals with a smile.
The other girl at poolside drinks is Anna. She sympathized with Julia's story, revealing she too had gone close to being locked out of her room on several occasions, but adopted my strategy - narrowly avoiding the door fully closing by placing a foot in the doorway. She tells of several occasions, within her 32 years of flying, of hotel staff walking into her room while she was in there. This has happened to me also. I make sure I put out the do not disturb sign or, in hotels with an electronic sign, I press the button indicating I do not wish to be bothered. Occasionally these systems fail. I've had other guests steal my doorknob sign, and once, with the electronic sign, the small light-bulb which illuminates the do not disturb didn't work. I only discovered this after a minibar attendant was in my room to check the contents of my minibar. I was three hours into a four hour sleeping-tablet-induced coma. I didn't even hear him come into the room. It was only when he turned the lights on did we get the shock of our lives.
Anna's story is similar, but with one big difference: Anna reveals that she likes to sleep on top of the sheets - naked. Anna is the most reserved of the poolside crew, yet she has a wickedly devilish sense of humor. She is in her mid-to-late-fifties and would be the first to admit she is not the physically beautiful specimen she once was. She admits that a love of wine and cheese platters have taken their toll.
'I will confess I sometimes forget to put out the do not disturb sign' she tells, 'when I've had a few chardonnays I tend to forget a lot of things. Anyway, I guess it has happened at least seven or eight times over my 32 years of flying, where hotel staff, usually a cleaner, have walked into my room to be greeted by this' she says while pointing to her ample-sized body.
Anna has a gulp of wine before adding with a grin 'I'm sure those that saw me naked back in 1985 had a far better experience than those in later years.'
Over yet more drinks we discuss more hotel stories, including sleepwalking. There have been a few incidences of crew wandering around hotels naked as a result of sleepwalking or alcohol mixed with sleeping tablets - or both. I did not remark about Mary-go-round, although her name does get mentioned.
One of the guys tells of some unusual occurrences happening to him. He was never aware he sleepwalked, his wife and family had never mentioned a single incidence at home. Often our hotel rooms have twin beds. He tells of several incidences, being jetlagged, tired, with a few beers under his belt, where he slept in one of the beds and woke up next morning to discover he was in the other bed. He could remember swapping beds in the middle of the night. He must sleepwalk and didn't know it. Swapping from one bed to another is no big deal, although most hotels are in high-rise buildings, many have balconies. He tells us that he now locks the balcony door and puts a chain across the front door, just in case.
&n
bsp; I am pretty sure I don't sleepwalk, yet I tell of my experiences of waking up and not knowing where I am. All have had the same experience. Julia mentions that on a recent trip she woke up not knowing where she was or the time. After taking a few deep breaths, she collected her thoughts. She was in Hong Kong, having arrived late in the evening. She was exhausted, downing a glass of wine before going to sleep at around one in the morning. When she awoke she checked the bedside clock to discover it was almost seven o'clock. She decided to have a shower, get dressed, and then go downstairs for breakfast. When she arrived in the hotel lobby she discovered it was pitch-black outside. It was seven o'clock alright, but not morning, it was seven o'clock at night. She had slept for nearly 18 hours.
Julia brings up the subject of dreams; not dreams in hotel rooms, but dreams onboard the aircraft. On long-haul flights there are designated crew-rest areas. Some aircraft have little bunks, usually located in the tail. They are not exactly king-size orthopedic mattresses with satin sheets and feather-down pillows, but at least it is somewhere to rest away from the main cabin and passengers. On a 12 hour-plus flight it is blessing.
I struggle to sleep on an aircraft, yet on the few occasions I have; I dream - and they are very different dreams to what I might have in my own bed or even a hotel room. When Julia mentions her dreams in the crew-rest area, they are eerily similar to mine:
'I dream that I am in an aircraft, the one I am working on, and we are flying along a road, not high in the air, but just above the ground' reveals Julia; 'and a bridge is approaching. We fly under the bridge, then make our way toward an approaching city. The aircraft flies between buildings, avoiding light poles and signs. We don't crash, but the crew are looking out the windows - and we are terrified.'
Of the five of us, four have had the same or similar dream or dreams - always while on the aircraft. I had never discussed my dreams with others before. I have goose-bumps thinking other crew have the same experience as me. One of the guys reveals he dreams of flying in a large tunnel; the other girl tells of flying through a city, with her description uncannily similar to Julia's. The one common denominator in each dream is the aircraft appears destined to crash, but doesn't. We all reported that we awoke before we know the outcome.
Four out of five had the same or similar dreams. Is it an amazing coincidence or could it be the same for many other crew? It is a topic I'd love to revisit sometime in the future. We all live virtually the same lifestyle, yet we often react differently to certain situations. I know Mary-go-round handles jetlag differently to me. The fact her body has an array of different chemicals swirling around may have something to do with it. Even so, there are often similar reactions to certain situations, like those dreams.
I am not a psychologist, although I think we opened up a whole can of worms.
sometimes sleep can come at a cost
Dreams continue to be a subject of poolside discussion. Julia sometimes has the weirdest dreams after having a sleeping tablet. She does not elaborate, yet confirms the dreams have nothing to do with aircrafts or flying. I must admit there was one prescription sleeping tablet I tried which gave me strange dreams. I stopped taking them, preferring more natural products.
All five of us admit to taking sleeping tablets. I can't vouch for all international flight attendants, but I'd be surprised if most didn't take something to get some sleep or dull the effects of jetlag. Some of my flying friends swear by melatonin, a naturally produced chemical in the body, available in tablet form in some countries. It doesn't work that well for me. I keep relaying that everyone is different; what works for some doesn't work for others.
I am no goody two-shoes, yet I am not really into prescription drugs. I'll avoid them if I can. If my doctor says I need to take a course of antibiotics, I'll take them if I need to, but my preference is to dodge them. The word drug is loosely defined. I drink alcohol and guzzle coffee, however I have never, nor ever will, indulge in anything that might be found on a list of banned substances. Crew can be drug-tested. It rarely occurs. This is not the sole reason I am anti-drugs. It is a personal choice. I have seen the devastating effects some drugs can have, not just physically, but emotionally. Ok, that's enough of Danielle the anti-drugs campaigner, let's get back to sitting around the pool with four other likeminded people discussing everything from being naked in hotels to sleeping habits:
Julia tells a story of taking a sleeping tablet four hours before her scheduled wake-up call - or so she thought. She had misread her wake-up call time. What she thought was 16:00, being 4 p.m., was actually 14:00, being 2 p.m. Two hours may not sound much, but when you have just taken a pill which knocks you out for four hours and the phone rings... I'll let Julia tell the story...
'The phone rang. I was in gaga land. I must have picked up the phone and put it back down. I have no idea. Later the phone rang - and it was our boss. How long will you be Julia? he asked, the crew are on the bus. Oh god, I screamed - I didn't get my wake-up call. He said yes you did; the hotel has a record of it, but don't panic. We will go to the airport. You'll need to catch a cab and pay for it yourself. How long do you need to get ready? I was still dopey from the sleeping tablet. I stupidly said I could be ready in ten minutes. I'll have a cab ready for you in 15 minutes then, he calmly told me. So we'll see you on the plane. Why did I say ten minutes? How the hell could I get ready in ten minutes even if I was wide awake? I hadn't packed or anything. I threw myself in the shower, but didn't wash my hair - just splashed my face really. I'll apply my make-up in the taxi, I thought to myself. Have you ever tried to put make-up on while in the backseat of a moving car? I certainly wouldn't recommend it. And to add insult to injury, because I threw everything in my suitcase and bag in a frenzied panic, I must have left some things behind, including my lipstick I use for work, plus the world's most expensive perfume. I could survive without the perfume, but the cost of replacing it, along with the 45 minutes cab fare, were a bitter pill to swallow. I had a backup lipstick in my purse, but not the one I use on the plane. Cherry red lips - great for a nightclub, but not really the right color for work. I made the plane on-time, only just - and I looked awful. I was rattled and I had to face a plane full of passengers on a 12 hour flight. God, stupidity can be painful.'
Julia is a good storyteller. We all laughed, chiefly as each of us had similar experiences. One of the boys talks of being repositioned crew, where he was a passenger out-of-uniform, to have a 16 hour layover and then operate on the plane back home. When he arrived at the hotel he discovered he had not packed his work pants. He had the rest of the uniform, but no pants. No other crew would carry spare pants. Even if they did, the chances of them fitting were improbable. He arrived at the hotel at night. No shops were open. He only had a small window of opportunity the next morning to purchase a pair of pants remotely similar to the work pants. He said the pants he bought, being outrageously expensive, were the same color, but a different style. He wore his jacket for the whole flight, covering what he termed 'very effeminate pleats'. He did tell the onboard manager about his attire, yet the rest of the crew had no idea he was wearing non-uniform pants. As a footnote, he said he never wore the pants again, also lamenting about the financial ramifications of his own stupidity.
I've had no major uniform incidences which have impacted my work, yet there have been plenty of occasions onboard where I wish my uniform had a protective outer skin. I've been sneezed on, vomited on, spat on (all accidentally) ... you get the drift. My uniform has seen it, and worn it, all.
When crew talk about our uniform it is usually in terms of how comfortable or uncomfortable it is, yet the uniform must meet all sorts of other standards. Apart from looking stylish, it must be made of fire-retardant materials and not hinder us in an emergency.
A little rarely known fact is: male flight attendant neckties, in most airlines, have a Velcro quick-release section so that if the tie was grabbed with enough force, the Velcro would unhitch and the tie would come off. It is similar with police
officer's neckties. I'd be surprised if passengers, and even some crew, know this. Realistically, we are more concerned with the uniform being comfortable. We spend so many hours in the air and beyond. In all my years of flying, and wearing different uniform styles, I must say that the designers and manufacturers do an amazing job. There are at times teething issues, but if half the clothes in my wardrobe were as durable and looked as good after a 16 hour flight as what my uniform does, then I'd be very happy.
Julia refers to one of the crew uniforms from decades earlier. She absolutely loved it, so much so that she took the uniform to a tailor in Hong Kong and had the exact same outfit made - 'in different fabric and color of course' she added. Julia said that in all the years she wore the tailored outfit nobody ever tweaked that it was the same style as her work uniform. She did admit that she never took the outfit away on trips, only wearing it to non-crew events.
One of the guys tells a similar story about one of his work suits. He also had a tailor-made suit based on his uniform, but only after the work suit had been superseded with a new style. Although different buttons and coloring, he too reiterated that no one ever put two-and-two together. Not that he would have cared, he revealed.
I can't say I have clones of any of my uniforms in my closet, yet I understand the rationale behind their thinking.
We have talked (and drank) for hours, deciding to finish our drinks and then call it a night. I must say I really enjoyed the company and the conversations. We agree to do it all again tomorrow night. I will be meeting Julia in the morning. She mentioned she is going to the same shopping center as I was planning to go, so we've set a time to meet in the hotel's lobby and then share a cab.
Confessions of a Hostie 3 Page 8