Posted on

My Favorite Things: Coming ‘Write’ Up

A United Airlines 737 in snowy Chicago

There are so many components that go into a flight and there are many chances for things to go wonky. Between catering, passenger issues, weather, medical events, and mechanical issues, it’s nearly rare when nothing goes wrong.
There are many reports in aviation. Reports are vital for aircraft maintenance, so any time there is an issue on board that involves the mechanics, we must report them. We call them write ups and they can be for anything as minor as reporting that the carpet is coming loose at a seam or a reading light being out at one of the seats, to larger issues such as a jumpseat not working properly or an overhead bin won’t stay shut.
Recently, before closing the door to the aircraft, I noticed a wire loose, just sticking out and waving hello to me, from inside the frame. That didn’t look right to me, so I asked the captain to come take a look at it. Wires should be mounted at each end, not waving to flight crew!

No engine = a lot of reports!
In the end, it turned out to be a grounding wire. Nearly everything on an airplane is redundant (there are more than one, so if one system goes inoperative, it has a back up), and the same was true in this instance. Eventually, we were OK’d to take off and the issue was differed, meaning they would fix it at a later time. But it doesn’t end there. There’s always paperwork to fill out. A report in triplicate, rubber stamped, blessed and accompanied by a note from your mother. Many times something is a simple fix, but waiting for the paperwork to get completed by maintenance is the reason for a wait.
For flight attendants, we have reports for catering discrepancies, reports for using medical equipment, reports for FAA violations, or those who violate FAA regulations. We have reports for injuries, reports for extended delays and reports for safety issues. Thinking back, I’m shocked we didn’t have a class in initial training for report writing!
I’m good with reports. I enjoy writing and I’ve spent a number of years working in the field of security, including one year working with the Secret Service at the official residence of our 41st president of the United States. I’m pretty good with detail and keeping out emotions. Just the facts, ma’am. I’ve been told my reports are some of the best.
What’s funny is the common thinking amongst flight attendants about safety…“Please take your seat, the seat belt sign is on and I don’t want to do the paperwork if you get injured.” It’s true. But what’s really true is that nearly every trip has one report or another, and sometimes two or more. In fact, the very day after writing this story, I had a man pass out and require oxygen. He was able to walk off the flight on his own accord, and I had yet another report to fill out when I got home.
Fixing an oxygen mask compartment.

So working a trip and getting home and finding that I have no notes for any reports to fill out, doesn’t happen all the time. It’s nice that all of our reports are now done on line, so at least I can do them from the comfort of home. One of the best things about my job is that I can totally leave it behind once I leave the aircraft…save for a report or two. But when I have none, it sure is nice. It’s my favorite.

Posted on

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!
Posted on

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