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Passenger of the Day: Baby Mama

Perhaps it’s why she arranged their seating in this manner, as I could hear her in the aisle as I set up the aft galley. She traveled with her husband and two children and commented on the fact that their seating was two on one side of the plane and two on the other. “Well, we should be able to switch seats around a bit. No one will want to sit next to the kids. She put the boys, aged 2 and 4, on one side of the plane and she sat next to her husband. Between them was an aisle and two seats.
This would do for now, so I left them alone and went back to setting things up in the galley.
At the start of the safety demo, I knew I was going to have to fix things in that last row with Baby Mama. When I got to the last row, I found two things: no one else had joined them in that row, and Baby Mama had moved to the aisle seat next to the children. But right after takeoff, she moved back next to her husband. 
Penguin learning how to be safe at emergency training
“Hi, there. I just need to let you know that someone is going to have to sit next to the young children over there,” I said, smiling warmly to her. She protested. “I’m sorry, but an adult needs to be with children of that age, in case the oxygen masks deploy. They need help reaching the masks and putting them on.”
“Well, I can just move over if that happens,” she shot back.
“I’m sorry, it doesn’t always happen that way. In a sudden decompression, you won’t be able to move over. The plane will be in a dive, things will be blowing all around, sight will be limited due to fog created by the sudden change in pressure, people will be screaming, masks flying back, gasses expelling from your body, flashes of your life whipping by…mass pandemonium.”
Oxygen mask compartment open for repairs
Of course, most of that was inside voice. But she got the picture and rolled her eyes. With a big sigh, she moved next to them. For the remainder of the 3 hour trip, the two adults took turns sitting next to the boys, who never seemed to look up from their entertainment device.
As we began decent into our destination, the movie the boys had been watching ended and the two became a bit unruly; fussing and whining. Baby Mama was on the A side and Dad was next to the boys. I was behind them in the galley getting ready for the double chimes to sound; our queue to prepare the cabin for landing. Baby Mama suggested to Dad that they separate the boys, “Why don’t you hand one over here,” she stated. The father silently complied (I don’t know that I heard him speak even once during the flight). He picked up the nearest child and began to hand him over.
She quickly shot to him, “Not that one!” Had I liquid in my mouth, I’m certain the spit take would have been one to rival the best comedians. Having no liquid in my mouth, my other option was to double over in laughter…silent but for the sudden outburst of a chuckle. I looked back and my flying partner had obviously heard the comment, as well, for she was nearly on the floor laughing, in tears, having wet herself slightly.
That’s some good parenting!
Foggy cabin
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Passenger of the Day: Falling from the Sky

It felt like summer when I left my house in Houston. I don’t like it when it feels like summer in the middle of February, but that’s what I get for living in Houston. I was happy to be off to Calgary, a little taste of winter for my 20 hours in the land of Canada. In the real summer, I escape to South America for their winter. Snow birds leave the cold of the northern part of America and head south. I’m Penguin. I enjoy going north for the cold. For just a bit, any way.

Penguin free-falling

The first thing I noticed about the tall young man walking down the aisle was that he was wearing shorts. He was in his twenties, handsome round face under what could have been a military hair cut, those little athletic socks that are barely visible inside his sports shoes and a nice gray sweater. As I said hello to him, he stopped and asked me about first class. He noticed there were a few open seats and had hoped to get an upgrade. I had a strong suspicion that he was not high enough up on that list to get one of the open seats. I reminded him that we were still boarding (in fact, we were still quite early in the boarding process) and that the agent would come upgrade anyone who was already seated in the back. For good measure, I asked where he was seated, just in case (wink, wink).

As it turned out, he was seated in the very last row. I always hate to see the taller ones getting seats in the last row. The seats don’t recline much and in the back of the plane there are a few inches less between the seats than in the front of the plane which makes it tough on long legs, and one thing you don’t want is to have a pushy flight attendant driving home the fact that the aisle space is ours and the seat space is yours, ‘so stay out of our space!’ It happens. Were there open seats, I’d consider asking if he’d like to upgrade.
I used one of my favorite lines when hearing that someone is in the last row, “If you were any further back we’d have to put you to work!” He laughed and thanked me for all the information on first class and sulked to the rear of the plane.
Later, he wondered how long I had been flying. I answered and asked if he was interested in working for the airlines. He informed me that he used to be a customer service agent for a Canadian airline and that he still had a few friends who were flight attendants. We struck up a conversation and I got a thrill from hearing that he had sponsors for his skydiving!

Suiting up with my instructor
“Oh, I LOVE to skydive. Well, it’s been about 16 years since I’ve done so, but I’ve done it a couple of times and it was one of the greatest thrills of my life,” I told him.
I’ll never forget the experience. I had driven out to Delaware with a customer friend from the Harley-Davidson dealership I managed. After a quick class, we took off in an airplane and leveled off around 9,000 feet. People often tell me they would never jump out of a perfectly good airplane. I respond with, “You didn’t see the airplane from which I jumped!” It was a perfectly fine plane, but it was older, stripped of any seats and had seen many flights. Most people would have been leery to take off in that plane.
As we climbed, the instructor got ready and directed me to stoop in front of him. He connected our harnesses and together we scooted to the door. When it opened, I was just a few inches from the edge. I looked down at the ground. A sudden thought came to mind…there is nothing between me and the ground but 9,000 feet of air. I should be terrified, but I wasn’t. There was very little time to obsess over the situation. I felt the tap on my right shoulder; the one that meant it was time to leave the airplane.
I tumbled out and we rolled a few times. I went into the free fall position I had been instructed to go into; legs spread with my soles to the sky, arms out and elbows at 90 degrees like I was being arrested, back arched, head down. Down we went. I was in love. I had expected to feel much like one does when on a roller coaster and the stomach drops. There was none of that. It was just a roll out of the plane and a feeling of weightlessness. Save the intense rush of air that flapped the skin on my face like a flag, there was no sensation of falling. I was flying!
All too soon, I received the second tap and the parachute opened up above us. Now there was silence as we gracefully floated towards the airport from which we had alighted just a few minutes prior. My instructor was a humorous man with white hair and he made a few jokes and then informed me that one of his ‘things’ was to serenade his students. He sang a song that thankfully only lasted a few seconds. For the most part, he just let me enjoy the fall, with the ruffling of the nylon chute over head. I…was…in…heaven!
Landing was simple and disappointing, that my time in the air was over. I loved the fall; so much so that I repeated the experience a few months later in Maryland from 11,000 feet. This instructor let me pull the chord to release the chute, which is supposedly a big deal.
Happy Penguin after my skydive adventure

My new friend in the last row going to Canada introduced himself to me; Eric. He showed me a video on his phone of a jump he had made with a few friends. It was a great video and showed them floating through clouds on their way to the ground, grabbing the feet of the their friends, and falling feet first instead of stomach first. Eric eventually wants to train for BASE jumping and will soon begin training for a flight suit. If only I were I young again!
For me, the chance to go skydiving was one of the greatest thrills I have enjoyed in life. There is nothing to compare with falling free and then floating under canopy. If you ever get the chance, don’t miss out.
As the passengers began to gather their belongings and enter the Calgary terminal, my flying partner asked me if it was cold outside. “Well, judging from Eric’s shorts, I’d say no.” He looked over and laughed and told me his girlfriend would be waiting outside with the car warmed up for him. Good thing, as a blast of cold air hit as we left the airport and I was happy to have my warm clothes…and my memories of falling from he sky.
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Passenger of the Day: Shaken and Stirred

Sunset clouds

Every now and then you’ll get a great pilot who likes to come out of his cave…er…cockpit and actually interact with passengers. They do have a lot to do up there before a flight; check lists, write ups, fuel sheets, weights and balance figures, the walk around, a quick call to the wife and or girlfriend. This flight had the type of captain who came into the cabin at the end of the boarding process with information on the weather at our destination and in flight. He mentioned an area of storms that we’d be passing on our way to the East Coast. I could see 3E’s face tighten. Another example of the captain meaning well and having to make me come in afterwards and smooth ruffed up feathers.
When he was done with his presentation, he returned to the switches and knobs of the cockpit and I began to pick up pre-departure cups from my passengers in first class. When I got the 3rd row, Nervous Flyer stopped me.
The woman in 3E was sharply dressed and very pleasant. She wore a tan outfit with sparkly jewelry, including a corded necklace ending with an elaborate-looking tassel. She smiled often and used pleasantries any time we spoke.
“The captain said it might be a bit bumpy in flight?” she asked sheepishly.
“There is a chance we may have a few bumps. I’m sure it won’t be bad. Do you not like bumps?” I asked.
“No, I’m what they call a nervous flyer.”
“My mother was a nervous flyer when I started this job. She’s great with flying now. I told her how much safer she was in the air than on the ground. The most dangerous part of the trip was the drive home!”
“I’ve heard that,” she said.
I continued, “I actually love turbulence.” She made a face. “I know, I’m one of those…” She laughed, but still appeared a bit nervous.
I went on to explain a little about turbulence and what causes it. I told her to imagine a pot of boiling water. The air can be much like that pot of boiling water, with bubbles of air rising and falling in the atmosphere. When the plane encounters these rising bubbles of air you get turbulence.
She greatly appreciated the visual and said she felt much better, but she’d be keeping an eye on me.
“Don’t tell me,” I interrupted, “you keep an eye on the flight attendant knowing that if they are calm, everything is OK, but if they look concerned, you should be as well.”
“Yeah,” she said.
There is nothing to fear.
“My mom told me that when I first started flying!” It’s something I’ve always remembered. To this day, if I hear a noise from the plane that is out of the ordinary, or I get a call on the interphone from the pilots about weather ahead, I act nonchalant and calm; smile on my face. Even if they’re only

calling for a lavatory break, people in the cabin don’t know why I’m on the phone. For all they know, there’s a fire in the cargo hold, a wheel just fell off, or we are serving only fruit cake.

As if often the case, the pilot’s reports were not entirely accurate and the flight ensued with very few bumps at all. It’s almost disappointing when we get notified of reports of turbulence coming up and then nothing happens. Passengers get up and we advise them, “Please take a seat, the captain has told us that we are expecting turbulence and we want you to be safe.” Then nothing happens and the seat belt sign gets turned off and I look like a liar. Happens all the time. I call the flight deck, “Hey, can’t you make it bounce for just a bit?”
Night flying
Yeah, I like turbulence. I like to feel the plane fly. But, I have hurt my knee when a jolt threw me to the floor. One of the most fun episodes was when I was trapped in the rear of a 747 coming home from Sydney. Fortunately, there were a lot of open seats, so when the plane began to dance through the air during our meal service, I was able to park the dinner cart and take a seat. The plane bounced so much that meals began to fall out the other end of the cart and onto the floor. All I could do was sit there and listen to the clatter.
People have died in turbulence, shooting out of their seats and hitting their head on the ceiling. It can be very dangerous and sudden. So when you are asked to do so, for your safety, and the safety of those around you, please, return to your seat and fasten your seat belt. And keep the over head bins closed. Thank you.
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My Favorite Things: View to a Thrill

Thrilling view of the mountains east of Orange County, CA.

I was an adult at the time. In fact, I was the general manager of a multimillion dollar company, for crying out loud. But there I was, seated in an aisle seat on a plane, fuming. Not because the flight was delayed. Not because they didn’t serve my favorite drink or not have my first choice of a meal. I was upset because I couldn’t get my beloved window seat and the man…nay…loser, seated in the window seat, kept the shade closed, thus denying my ability to see out. To make things worse, I was over the wing, so when he did eventually open the shade, I couldn’t see a thing. Damned wing!

It was like I was 6, not 30!
Now that I fly all for a living, I’m not that way at all. I do still enjoy the times I get to fly in a window seat. I can sit there for long periods of time just gazing at the landscape below, watching rivers snake, boat wakes on lakes, and all the lights when flying late. Sitting in a window seat is great! But if I’m not at the window, it doesn’t increase my heart rate. 
Even on the ground, I enjoy seeing what’s going on.
It also used to frustrate me when flying over cloud coverage because I couldn’t see the towns and cities and fields below. I do, however, love flying through skies with tall, billowy clouds. Being a huge Star Wars fan with a vivid imagination, in my mind they aren’t clouds we are flying around, but huge star ships hovering above foreign planets!
I’m leavin’ Las Vegas, yeah, yeah.
Even on the jumpseat, I enjoy trying to steal a view. One of the things I dislike about working on the 737 is how our view out of the door portholes are so limited. One can’t see at all out of door 1 Left when sitting in the jump seat. It’s also difficult to see out of the portholes on the 767. They are distorted and angled down; made more for ensuring safe egress in emergency situations than sight seeing.
I no longer fume over not sitting at the window. When working, I’m often tired when I fly in a passenger seat, and I’m just ready to take a nap. The window seats are great for sleeping, in that I can prop myself against the aircraft wall. It’s much better than being in the middle, crammed between other people, or in the aisle, where the cart goes back and forth and one tends to get bumped a lot by passengers and even crew.
Porthole view of IAH airport, Texas.
Yes, I’ll take that window seat whenever I get the chance. It’s nice to be out of the way, but there is nothing like being able to get that wonderful view; the cloud formations, the waterways, the mountains and forests, the cities and towns. I hardly ever take for granted the wonderful views of sunsets and the chance to view things from above. Another thing I tend to do is count people I see on the ground before touchdown. Sometimes it’s hard to find them, especially if flying into an airport surrounded by businesses.
There is nothing quite like some good tunes on my MP3 and a great view from my airliner window seat. It’s my favorite!
Flying over airports is my favorite!
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My Favorite Things: Perfect Storm

Sometimes, things really come together well; a perfect storm of perfection. With so many components and opportunities for trouble, it’s a wonder a first class service on an airliner ever happens seamlessly.
Perfect skies

It’s an easy day with a flight long enough to do a meal service without having to rush. The crew are fun and cheerful. The gate agent is upbeat and attentive. The passengers board and are in a good mood, talkative and smiling. The pilots arrive and give a thorough briefing, ask for very little and are supportive in our needs.
The bins are shut early and still have room to spare. The aircraft door is closed and we hammer out the safety demo; read flawlessly. My first class passengers smile and say thank you as I pick up their cups. The taxi is without delay and the takeoff is into blue skies with no turbulence.
I make the in-flight announcement and leave the jump seat when it’s safe to get up. I start the oven timer for the warm nuts, close the first class curtains, wash my hands and put my smock on. As I take meal orders, the passengers are still happy and enjoy a bit of banter as I ask about drinks and mention the meal options. Everyone gets their first choice, despite the ever-looming possibility that everyone will want the same meal choice.
In the galley, I take out the ice and glasses and start cooking the meals. I deliver hot towels and then pick them up. I check the meals to make sure they are cooking properly and remove the nuts from the oven, making sure the bread is perfectly warm before turning that oven off (there are 2). Drinks get delivered 2 seats at a time along with nuts and I make sure to call each person by name, as well as the drink I’m delivering.
Once all passengers have their drinks, I run out seconds, while constantly keeping an eye on the food in the oven. I pride myself on cooking meals to perfection. My pasta is always hot, never dry. By the time this is done, the meals are ready. I deliver meals, taking additional drink orders as I run the trays out. After the final tray is delivered, I remove the cookies from the chiller and place them on the pans to bake, which takes 20 minutes. By this time, the first passengers I served dinner to are finished eating. As I remove their trays I inquire as to whether or not they would like coffee or tea. When the timing is really perfect, the cookies are done baking just as I load the last dirty tray back into the cart. Again, I pride myself on perfect cookies. I place them on the plates, and deliver them. They are warm, fluffy and slightly chewy.
At this point, I check on the flight. I want to know how much time is remaining and need to see if they are done serving in coach. Sometimes, I can help pick up trash in coach at this point, but usually they are already done. I also check on the pilots. As I pick up the last of the trash and the cookie plates from my first class passengers, I make one last check on drinks.
The bulk of my work is now done. On shorter flights, it’s almost time to land. On longer ones, I have a chance to eat, sit down for a bit or socialize with my crew or passengers. I like to personally welcome high-yield passengers in the main cabin and offer them a drink and check with those in need of a wheel chair. Personal attention is always my goal.
Soon, the plane descends and the ground looms larger through the small door porthole windows. I pick up the remaining service items, hand out any coats I hung during boarding and complete safety checks prior to touchdown.
As my passengers disembark, I thank each one personally, attempting to use a different parting comment so that no one passenger hears the same comment; good bye, thanks for joining us today, enjoy your evening, we appreciate your business, take care, see you soon, so long, see you next time; repeat. Most days, I receive compliments on my announcements and shake the hands some extend to me as they thank me for a great flight. Success!
It’s hardly like a job when it all runs like this; and fortunately, it happens often. It helps that I love my job and that I’m organized and, if I may say so, myself, such a great flight attendant. It’s like hosting a little dinner party for strangers but in a metal tube careening through the atmosphere. On a perfect day, when it all comes together, there is nothing like working in the skies over the Earth. It’s my favorite!
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Passenger of the Day: The Gobbler

Lights of the runway
It looked rough on paper and by the fourth day, it felt rough. It proved to be a long, tiring trip, which drained our energy and Mother Airline saved the worst for the last day…3 flights and nearly 13 hours of working, after the shortest layover of the 3 nights away from home. The first day was easy; flying to Philly for 15 hours. The 2nd day had us end up in Memphis for 16 hours after 2 flights. Day 3 was the easiest day that had us dead head to Houston and then work to Austin, but even that was stressful with weather-related delays. Austin was the shortest layover of the 3, shortened even more thanks to Mother Nature. It’s a shame Mother Airline and Mother Nature are often at odds with one another. Day 4 began with only 6 hours of sleep with flights to Denver, Tampa and back home to Houston. By the time I got to Tampa, I was toast!
I love 4 day trips. I got this job to travel and I love staying in the hotels and meeting interesting people. On this trip, I was purser, which means I was in charge of the cabin and the liaison to the flight deck. We got to Tampa and all 3 of us, working the flight, were feeling the effects of the long trip and the short layover the previous night. We were a bit giddy and laughing at the smallest of things. I found myself making quite a few mistakes when making announcements. I’d made the safety announcements 7 times in 4 days. There should be no mistakes- it was practically memorized. I’m sure no one but me really noticed them, but I pride myself on excellence.
I love working the purser position on the Airbus. There are either 12 or 8 passengers depending on whether it’s the A320 or the A319. On a longer fight, I usually get to know a few of the passengers, who enjoy engaging in conversation, as I find out where they’ve been, where they are going, what they do for a living, or a variety of other topics.
Fifteen years ago, I’ll never forget being told while in training for this job, to engage passengers whenever possible. It makes their day and most people enjoy being singled out to be spoken to by the flight crew. I was flying since I learned to walk and I’ve always loved the attention given from crew, flying on my own at such a young age. It’s something that has never left me, and now that I’m on the other side of the ticket, I do what I can to be present for all passengers. I comment on jewelry, hats, blouses, shoes, travel bags and especially great smiles.
A baggage loader seen outside the window
The passengers leaving Tampa for Houston in first class seemed to enjoy my levity and humor. Even when tired, or especially, perhaps, I can be entertaining as I welcome people, take pre departure orders, and assist people with checking bags at the door. The woman in 2B seemed to smile a lot and watched me as I worked, more than the others seated in the front of our Airbus. So it was to her whom I most devoted my attention during flight.
She was a lovely, young woman of about 30 with long, dark hair. She and her boyfriend in 2A were dressed nicely, the way people used to dress when flying first class. She admitted that I looked a little tired and asked if I had a short layover the night before. So I briefly detailed my trip and she could understand why I was so looking forward to arriving in Houston and having 5 days off. She mentioned that she and her boyfriend lived in Houston, but had a home near Tampa, as well. I mentioned that I recently moved from San Francisco, and she gushed at how lovely it was there. I agreed, as we talked about the weather, the beauty and open minded people.
She informed me that she and her boyfriend hadn’t had the chance to spend much time in the Bay Area, but would be returning soon. They were only there for a day to look at a ring being sold in an antique store. She smiled and nodded towards the young man in 2A, deeply involved in a movie on his personal device. I watched as she displayed her hand, sans any metal on her ring finger and understood her meaning. “Well, good luck with that! I hope you get it!”
We talked on and off for the duration of the flight, as most other passengers were busy watching movies and shows and pretty much ignoring me. As I made my safety checks on the Houston approach, I noticed she was placing an object in her purse. “Oh, is that one of those dancing solar animals?” I asked.
“Yes, it’s a turkey,” she said with a wide smile, showing it to me.
“I love those! They have them at the dollar store and I love buying them for my nephews!”
“Yes,” she gushed, “I got this one at the dollar store!” I told her of the ones I had in my window at home and how I often dance with them, giving her, and the rest of the aircraft, a little demonstration, shaking my hips and head in opposite directions. It made her laugh. I love the laugh reaction from people!
My new dancing gobbler on display at home.
As I passed back by to take my seat for landing, she handed me the dancing turkey. I tried to refuse it, as if she were trying to hand me a hundred dollars and not an item that cost as much as a slice of fruit cake. I finally acquiesced and accepted it. It’s so rare that a passenger offers up a gift, other than a piece of chocolate, so I quickly wrote her a thank you card.
As we taxied to the gate, I made my usual announcement, “…I hope you enjoyed your flight and we look forward to seeing you again. On behalf of the entire flight crew, happy travels and many returns,” and with it being the week of the US Thanksgiving holiday, I added, “and have a happy Thanksgiving.” A woman shouted out, “You, too, Penguin!” I’m pretty sure it was my new friend in 2B, who, next time I see her, will hopefully have a new antique engagement ring on that finger!
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Passenger of the Day: Condolences

I had a friend who was based in England who told me he was ghastly afraid to ever ask passengers if they had been on vacation or a business trip for the possibility of hearing that they had been to a funeral of a loved one. He thought it was embarrassing and didn’t know what to say. I love asking where passengers started their day, where they are going, if they were on vacation. When greeting passengers, usually a big smile back means they are going home, and they are always impressed that I guessed correctly. It’s happened more than a few times that I engage a passenger and hear they were attending a funeral. To me, it’s no big deal to hear this. I offer condolences, ask if they need anything and smile as I welcome them aboard.
Leaving Houston, two ladies began to settle into seats 1A and B. They were laughing and having a good time. I could tell they were together, most likely sisters. Lady A had a large bag at her feet, and on a full flight, I let her know she might want to stow it in the overhead bin before they filled up. She tried to stuff it under her seat, and I had to remind her, that was the space of the person behind her. She looked back, apologized to the man, and asked Lady B, to shove it in the small bin with her bag, which she did with more chuckling.
I was unable to offer pre-departure drinks during boarding because the new galley had not arrived, however, a minor maintenance issue delayed us for about 20 minutes after everyone had boarded, allowing me to then give out drinks. The laughing ladies would grow silent from time to time as they listened in to the goings on in the galley.
Lady A and Lady B both asked for Chardonnay. They continued to chatter with each other, and upon overhearing me discussing a mess in the aft galley, they commented to me that it was a shame people leave a mess for others to clean up. Then the catering dude said he didn’t want any of the leftover cinnamon rolls I offered, saying, “You never know where they’ve been…someone could have sneezed on them.”
Lady B laughed and commented, “I hope no one sneezed on them, people ate those things!”
I joked, “He’s off his meds.”
Most in first class, now half paying attention to me in the galley for entertainment and in hopes of an update on our delay, thought it was hilarious.

This is how it was for most of the flight. Wine continued to be consumed as they laughed and joked with me, being quite friendly. I thoroughly enjoyed them. Lady A informed me that Lady B was her daughter, her son was in 1E and husband in 1F. I looked over at the men across the aisle, then back to Lady B.
“You mean this isn’t your sister?” I asked Lady A. I was serious. She gushed and said I was too much.
“I call like it I see it!,” I told her. Brownie points are great from passengers.
After asking, I found out the family was on their way home to a Denver suburb and they had just attended the funeral of Sir F’s mother; Lady B’s grand mother. I offered condolences, to which she said that she had lived to the ripe old age of 98.
Halfway through the flight, I saw that they were ready for a refill and as I approached with the bottle of wine, Lady A was in tears. They were holding hands as Lady B offered support. I commented, “Uh, oh, things have gotten a bit emotional since I was here last. Is there anything I can do for you?”
She asked if the was any Xanax on board. I looked at Lady B, then back to Lady A, “No, they don’t let me give out Xanax, but the Chardonnay is almost as good.”
“No,” she said, as she wiped a tear away, “wine is even better,” and she handed me her glass.
Maybe things got away from me, but I may have given more wine than I should have. As we approached Denver, the two of them were growing loud; almost uncomfortably so. They were laughing again and joking with Mr. E across the aisle. He was taking selfies of the three of them and I wished I could figure out a way to photo bomb the shot, but I couldn’t get behind them.

After landing, as they gathered their items, I handed Lady A a card with a small note, once again offering my condolences. I mentioned them to Sir F and Mr. E, as well. Lady A started welling with tears again, the smile fading from her face slightly. She leaned over with her arm outstretched and gave me a huge, long hug. She really needed it, and it was nice. I had a million things going on in my head- making sure the lights were on and the door was disarmed, keeping an eye on the jet bridge slowly moving toward the plane, ensuring I hadn’t forgotten anything. But I hugged her back. Mr. E said it was the best flight he’d ever been on. Sir F called him “Chump Change”, telling him not to forget his bag, which made me laugh. I had to turn towards the door and I could hear Lady B comment, “You see, it’s a sign, his giving you that card.”
Some people are afraid to hear someone is going through something sad. I look at it as a chance to connect with someone. Often, just a few words of condolence and a smile is all they need. Sometimes, a hug from a friendly flight attendant does the trick. And I’m personally of the opinion that we all need more hugs in life!
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Adventures in Flight: Ghost Flights

It’s a very rare occurrence, some flight attendants say they’ve never had it happen to them. In my 15 years with Mother Airline, I’ve only had it happen maybe four times, but what a treat it is, for both passengers and crew. I’m talking about ghost flights; or very light loads. Extremely light.
The first time it happened for me, there were 5 passengers on a 757. On this plane, there are 24 seats in first class. With 3 passengers in coach and the other 2 in first, the purser got permission to move everyone up. With four flight attendants, this gave me and my flying partner assigned to the back no work to do on our flight from Chicago to San Francisco. What was fortunate was that the woman I was working with was a friend who I’d not seen since a Caribbean cruise 2 years prior, so it was fun just catching up with her for a few hours.

The second time I worked a ghost flight, it was again on a 757, but this time I was purser. I didn’t move everyone up to first class, and no one wanted to, anyway. I mean, if you have an entire row, or three, to yourself, why move up. This flight had about 13 passengers, and even though those seated in economy didn’t move up, I did offer and serve first class breakfast to everyone back there who wanted to eat.
On the most recent flight from Dallas to San Francisco, there were 9 passengers on an Airbus 320. We had 3 in first and 6 in the back; a young man, his mother and grandmother, a man and his 5 year old son and a businessman wearing a Rotary Club pin. (If you’ve read my story, “The Rotarian”, you will know I have a special history with the Rotary Club.)
View of the Ghost Flight cabin with PAX seated up front.

I love ghost flights and the ability to give outstanding, personalized service to each customer; a chance to get to know them (the Rotarian was from Arlington, the young man with his family worked for Nordstroms’s in Dallas and were going on vacation, and the father slept, but the young boy was well behaved and loved orange juice). No cart was set up, my flying partner and I ran each drink out on a tray.

Each time I work a ghost flight, I always hear the same comment. It came from the nice woman in first class this time, “I’m surprised they didn’t cancel this flight, they’re not making any money with so few people.” The answer is always the same, “The plane is needed for the rest of the day, if they cancel this flight, they have to cancel 3 or more flights that this plane is scheduled to fly.”
The best service you can get on a plane is one with very few passengers. You receive personalized service on a ghost flight. The chance to chat up a flight attendant (and who doesn’t love that?), lots of room and peace and quiet is all so, very nice. Plus, the crew is happy to have a light work load and a fun change to the routine of the normally packed airplanes. They are quite rare, so if you have the pleasure of being on one, enjoy…and feel free to spread out.
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Adventures in Flight: The Blue Room

Fifteen years ago I became a flight attendant and began a new career in the skies of the world. I have always loved flying and have had a fascination with aviation since I was a small boy. My eyes always turn upwards when I hear the roar of a jet airplane overhead. The thrill I felt was obvious and in those early days of internet, I would write my friends and family about my new adventures flying hither and yon around the world, so blue.
At one point, I asked if anyone had any questions for the new flight attendant in their life. I always interrogated pilots I met about how things worked and what their work life was like. I just assume everyone is as excited about flying as I am. I think I had only one question, from a very good friend of mine who had recently moved to Chicago. She asked me about the lavatory.
Also known as the blue room, a reference to the royal blue color of the water that flushes the toilet, the lav is a unique place on an airplane. It’s only a step above a porta-potty and I try to avoid using it as the oval office at any cost- only in emergencies. Many flight attendants carry their own air freshener to combat the assortment of odors that emanate from within one. And here is a tip for those times you just have to have a seat: use the seat covers to line the bowl to prevent anything untoward (poo) from sticking and not washing down. There’s nothing worse than going in and finding claw marks from the person ahead of you.
My friend, Sue, wanted to know when flight attendants used the lavatory, as she apparently had never seen one do so. Silly girl. When we receive our wings, we become gods. Using the lavatory is no longer a necessity. I wish! I do refer to those who don’t have a career in the skies as mortals, but we certainly do use the lavatory on airplanes. Elsewhere, too.
It’s funny, but to this day, some 15 years later, I still think of this question whenever I slip into one. The things our mind holds onto. (Don’t tell her I think of her every time I’m in there!)
After takeoff
The short answer is that we get up out of our jump seats before the seat belt sign is turned off. One of the reasons, besides getting ready for the service, is to jump in the lavs before the line forms, going up the cramped aisle. Some of the women also need to change their shoes; off with the heels and on with the work flats. Some of us wear smocks. So this is the time, when the mortals are still required to remain seated, for us to get in there and get situated before we get inundated with the passengers. It’s why you may hear a stern warning if you’re up before the sign goes off, “Um, hello, the seat belt sign is on, see the little seat belt symbol all illuminated? Yes, so turn around and go back to your seat and wait for us to use it first!” 
The same goes for landing. The seat belt sign comes on for several reasons. Yes, as we pass through cloud layers into in the arrival city to which is our destination, we tend to encounter more turbulence. But we also need to have access to the aisles to conduct our safety checks, run paperwork to the purser in first class, and have a moment to use the lavs once more before landing. No one wants to encounter the rare emergency landing with a full bladder! Imagine the horror of being on the nightly news after having evacuated an aircraft with a huge wet stain on your pants.
“Yes, Steve, as you can see, we have another case of fearless flight attendants who were just doing their job, evacuating everyone safely, with no injuries to report. Here is one such brave flight attendant, who seems have to wet herself in the process. Well, back to you in the studio.”
Approach into EWR
So do as your parents taught you, use that time before the boarding process begins, and use the rest room before you board the aircraft and give us a chance to do our thing before you have to do yours. And be careful about you ask a flight attendant. You may ruin a good memory of yourself! (Just kidding, Sue!)

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Passenger of the Day: Mary or Caesar; What’s in a Name?

Catering on an aircraft can always be spotty. I’ve yet to tour the kitchens and catering facilities, but I know from watching them board the aircraft that it must be quite a performance to stage everything, load it into our serving carts, strap them into the back of the lift trucks and transport them to the plane.
After boarding, one of the first things a flight attendant will do besides safety checks is to begin checking the carts and ovens for catering items. Of utmost importance are the crew meals; certainly for us, but also for the pilots. There are certain people I know, and I won’t name any names, but you know who you are, who get a little grumpy when hungry. Neither we nor our passengers like a grumpy pilot!
The catering truck arrives.
Often we are missing items. Some, we can make due without. Others, we have to call for, such as missing meals, which is why we have to check our catering items first. It’s the times we get items out of the ordinary that make the day more exciting.
It’s not uncommon to see wine glasses from other airlines, and from time to time, I’ve even found glasses from rail service! I’ve seen napkins from other carriers, as well. More common, yet, are sodas from other countries. Coke Lite from China? Sure, why not.
Recently, I was in Canada on a nice layover. We started our day checking our catering in the aft galley. Everything was there and things were going fine. We performed our first service, picked up the cabin and had a few minutes to enjoy our crew meal and relax before setting things up for our second service.
My flying partner set up the cart and noticed an odd can in one of the bins from the back of the supply cart. Rob pulled it out and read it aloud, “Clamato.”
“Huh?” I asked.
“They gave us Clamato juice. Two cans. The Canadians love Clamato. This must be from Air Canadianland. It’s made with clam juice. I’m going to show Seela.” Seela was our purser, working up in first class. Rob went up and returned a few minutes later with the can. I finished my meal and as I put the tray in the trash cart, he opened the can to give it a try. He made a sour face, waited a minute while looking towards the ceiling, and took another sip. “Nah, I don’t like it,” he reported.
I grabbed a cup and also gave it a try. It was very salty, but not bad. It certainly wasn’t something I’d drink on it’s own. “It’d be great in a bloody Mary,” I told him.
We continued setting up the cart and I found another can of Clamato in my bin, as well as a can of regular tomato juice I’d never seen before. We served our passengers the drink of their choice, and as we neared the last few rows, I heard a woman ask Rob for Clamato. As he was pouring it, the lady next to me says, “I would like a Clamato.” I’m thinking, good grief, what’s with all the Clamato?
“See?” said Rob, “They love it.”
Catering knocks and checks for visual confirmation of a disarmed door.
As I poured the lady’s Clamato juice, I informed her that we normally don’t have it and that I’ve never seen it before. In fact, I had only just tried it. She said that she had seen Rob carrying it, so assumed we were serving it. She asked if I’d had a Caesar before. “Well, I know who Caesar is…a very smart talking ape,” I told her.
“What?” My Planet of the Apes reference went over her head.
“Never mind. Are we talking about a drink?” I asked.
“Yes, it’s a great drink, I love them.”

I asked her to tell me more about this… Caesar. “You salt a rim, use Clamato juice, vodka, celery salt and…” I interrupted her.
“A bloody Mary?” I asked.
She had never heard of a bloody Mary. I told her how much I loved them with pickled okra. Rob interjected at this point his dislike of okra…too slimy. 
“I never liked Rob,” I joked to her. We all laughed.
Rob showed her a can of spicy tomato juice- the one we normally serve. She was intrigued, so he opened it to give her a taste. She liked it, but not as much as her Clamato. He wound up buying her a vodka, so that she could contrast and compare, making a bloody Mary and a Caesar. I brought her a packet of pepper, saying, normally I like mine spicy with a dash of hot sauce, but this should help. She liked that even more. I also informed her that if she wanted, she could use tequila instead, but that’s called a bloody Maria. She thought that was cute.
In the end, we had made her day with a simple can of Clamato and a chance to try a bloody Mary. Thanks to a little catering mistake and receiving a few cans meant for another airline, I made a new friend on our flight from Canada.
Planes at SFO