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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.

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My Favorite Things: Ferrying a Flight

Takeoff from San Francisco International

Since my days in training I’ve heard the stories; zooming down the aisles on serving trays or standing at the back wall of the plane during take off, kicking back and watching movies in first class seats; singing songs over the PA system; party in the back, sleeping up front. The reasons vary for the need; mechanical issues, aircraft positioning, apparently it once happened after someone relieved themselves in the aisle – toxic land mine! It’s always been a dream of mine, and in 15 years, I’ve only had one incident of doing it… ferrying a flight.

A ferried flight is one in which there are no passengers; only crew. Often, aircraft are ferried with only pilots, but occasionally, flight attendants are also needed to accompany a ferried aircraft. I think all flight crew enjoy the chance to ferry a flight.
Many years ago a pilot told me a story about ferrying a flight. There were no other crew members other than the two pilots. There were carts installed in the galleys, but they were empty. During the flight, the pilots got a hankering for a hot cup of joe. The first officer went hunting but couldn’t find any coffee.
Upon entering the lav, he did find a pack, hanging on the hook. He decided to make a go of it and brewed a cup of coffee. Some flight attendants will hang a coffee pack in a lav that has particularly bad odor issues. He told me that once he tasted it, he realized how effective they were in doing so. He told me, “Every scent that was in that lavatory was now in that cup of coffee! I nearly lost my lunch!”
The morning I got the call that I was on a crew to ferry a flight, you’d have thought I won the lottery! I was a bit crest-fallen when learning that the flight was only from San Francisco to San Jose, which is only an hour drive…in traffic.
I showed up at the gate and met the rest of the crew. It was neat being able to board and just leave when we were ready; no passengers to board. We were to pick up our passengers in San Jose and then work to Denver. I was clearly the most excited of the five of us.
We completed our safety checks and briefed with the captain. He reminded us that we still had to arm the doors and then he said the magic words, “If anyone would like ride in the cockpit jumpseat, we’ll only have one available, just let us know. The others had no interest, but I was like a boy being told I could open Christmas presents two whole weeks before Christmas!
Beautiful Day in SF

After arming my door, I took my seat in the cockpit and strapped in. The captain had also said he’d leave the door open so the others, who were seated in the first class seats, could have a view. I’d been able to take off and land in the cockpit during training, but if you’ve been reading my stories, you know how much I love aviation, and being in the cockpit is the best!

It was a beautiful day in the Bay Area. We taxied and took off and as the plane’s nose arched upward, the cockpit door slammed shut. Unable to reach it, it remained closed until we were safely in the air, at which time the others offered their complaints of not being able to see the takeoff.

The sad thing about the short distance of our ferry flight was that we only reached an altitude of about 8,000 feet, but the aerial tour going down the coast was fantastic. The Pacific Ocean was on my right and the bay on my left, with the hills, the highway, Stanford University and Moffett Field, once the home of huge blimps and an airfield that still (at that time) housed their huge hangars.
In no time at all we were landing from the south at San Jose, and after taxiing to the gate, there was no wait for the passengers to board; scheduled departure had come and gone and we were coming to the rescue. It was sort of awkward going from such a fantastic experience to suddenly having to work!

High above San Francisco
I’ve not given up hope for the opportunity to ferry a flight longer than half an hour. A whole aircraft with nothing but crew, access to movies, cooking your own meal at your leisure, hanging out in the cockpit…ferrying a flight…it’s my favorite!

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My Favorite Things: Peopletainment

Reflection of a plane
I used to date this woman who used to love to going out to eat. Who doesn’t? The odd thing about it was that we would sit in a booth or table in silence, giving one another odd glances and from time to time laughing out loud.
There is a routine I once watched by one of my favorite comics, Lewis Black. He talks about hearing someone say the dumbest thing ever heard, “If it weren’t for my horse, I’d never have spent that year in college.” I completely identified with this hilarious routine. (You can hear it on YouTube.)
Dinner entertainment: eating too fast
So my date and I would sit and listen to conversations at various eateries. I never heard anything as dumb as the comment about the horse, but we heard quite a few interesting things. And as much as I love to listen in to strange conversations, I love even more just watching people. I can do it in malls and parks, but airports are about the best places.
For one thing, you can watch people from all over the world. Different cultures converging in one place is usually a recipe for fun. You see an empty gate room full of seats and one person in a corner enjoying the space. Another person will enter the area and take a seat within spitting distance, ignoring all the other seats available. Normal people wouldn’t go and sit right next to someone in an empty area!
Another fun aspect of airport people watching is that there is normally a degree of stress involved. Packing, getting in a car, fighting traffic, parking, lugging the baggage, a nagging wife, 3 screaming kids laden with toys, and their strollers and car seats, standing in line to check bags, going through security, finding your gate and then having it change at the last minute, but then the gate isn’t just across the hall, but in another terminal (it happens often in Houston). It’s great entertainment to watch the meltdown and terse commands to their family members!
I love the elderly who don’t understand that the only one hard of hearing is themselves. They can be talking to the person next to them, but loud enough for me to hear them 40 feet away.
I love trying to figure out people’s story. I know I’m probably wrong, but who cares…it’s MY entertainment.
The main terminal in Lima

Recently, I watched an employee drive up in a golf cart and approach the jetway. An aircraft had just arrived and the people had yet to emerge. I noticed that she had a sign in her hand, obviously waiting for a top-tier flier, ready to whisk him to his next flight. At some airports, Mother Airline employs a fleet of Mercedes and they deliver them from one plane to the next on the tarmac. I guess in Houston, they only get a golf cart.
A man finally emerged with two young boys en tow, about 11 and 14 in age. The man and employee took a seat in the front and the two boys sat in the rear. What I found fascinating was that the boys were not enamored with personal electronic devices. Looking around at other kids, they were all busy with phones, game devices, DVD players and laptops. These young men were interested in watching what their father was doing, learning how to interact, watching how this important man dealt with things. “Good parenting,” noted my flying partner, who had been observing the same thing.
The terminal in Houston
In most airports, flight crews have a lounge in which to hang out in, or, as we might say, “hide.” It’s a great place to pull paperwork for a flight, work on trades or schedule bids, take a nap, eat a bite or make phone calls. Most flight attendants make a bee line for the lounge and only emerge for their flight at the very last minute, savoring the time away from passengers for as long as possible. But often, I find myself heading to the gate early, just so I can enjoy some people-based entertainment provided by travelers. People watching at the airport…it’s my favorite!

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My Favorite Things: Working It

One thing this job has is lots of variety. This is not a job for people who like the mundane; who like regulated tasks; who like repetition. I see people working on assembly lines and think to myself, “I’d rather be attacked by a giant fruit cake!” Besides the constantly varying days off, my job is full of different destinations and aircraft.

An Airbus about to land at EWR

The question I get asked most, and gets my eyes rolling, is, “What is your route?” It’s OK, not many people realize how 60s that question is. Only the most senior flight attendant has a constant ‘route’. And if I ever become that senior, I don’t know that I would want one. I like variety.
There are periods of holding similar trips for a month or two; plus, every other month I’m on call and have no control over where I fly. A few winters ago, I was holding Boston layovers, which I thoroughly enjoyed. But soon, the flying shifted and I was holding Orlando. While not as exciting as Boston, I liked the hotel in Orlando and the airport is nice. One month you may see Austin, Texas 3 or 4 times, and then you won’t see it for years. It’s fun going to cities after years of not being there, such as a recent layover in Memphis, where the previous one for me was over 10 years ago! There is no ‘route’, just a constant change.
My airline has 8 kinds of aircraft in her fleet and I am trained for each one. I used to love flying on the 747. It’s such a big bird, lots of places to roam, many passengers to get to know, 15 or so crew members and it takes you far away from home, which is the main reason I got this job. The 777 is a great plane to work because it was designed with input from flight crew. It’s the largest twin engine airliner in the world. We have several variants of the ’67 and the ’37. The 787 seems like a great plane, but I’ve yet to work on one.
Interior of an Airbus 

There are things I don’t like about the Airbus, such as the manner in which the jumpseat seat belts constantly get stuck when it retracts. But there is a lot to like about the aircraft, such as the wider aisles and flight attendant-friendly gallies. (The new 737 galleys were obviously designed by people who were never flight attendants!)

If I had to choose one position on one plane, I think I would choose purser on the Airbus A319. When I was based in San Francisco, there was nothing better than that position on a transcon red-eye flight. For the most part, the passengers sleep for most of the flight. There was a quick little service after takeoff, I would then assist with picking up trash in economy, and then it was pretty much just keeping yourself busy for 4 hours. As a writer and a night owl, this was very easy for me. I used to get a lot accomplished on those flights.
The nice thing about flying purser is being the only one on the jumpseat. There are a lot of times when I like peace and quiet, including at work. There’s nothing worse than sitting on the jumpseat next to a flight attendant who’s name is Chatty Kathy and all I want to do is listen to the conversation in my head. But with all the chatter, all my inside voice can do is shout, “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!”
View from door 2L on an Airbus

We don’t have that many long night flights being based in Houston. And in Houston, we don’t see the 747. But I do still get a lot of flights on the A319. They’re rarely all nighters, but I am often purser. The variety is great with this job, but when I’m purser on the 319, that’s my favorite!

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My Favorite Things: Never Fully Dressed

Caught me smiling!

“A smile seems to have a favorable influence upon others and makes one likable and more approachable.” –Mona Lisa (maybe)

Fifteen years ago, my mother was a nervous flier. She’s much better now, and I think my careermay have had something to do with that. She once told me that she always watches the flight attendants. If they are calm, there is nothing to fear. If they looked scared, she starts making out her final will and testament on the in-flight napkin.
Thisseems to be true with many fliers. I notice during bouts of turbulence how the first thing people do is to look out the window. If the shade is closed, they will open it, be blinded by the immense brightness, close it and then squint at me to see if I’m calm. I’m never scared of turbulence; I love turbulence…I love to feel the plane flying. Yeah, I’m one of those.
One day I realized that when doing the beverage service, I tended to purse my lips and look serious as I concentrated on remembering the 3-6 drink orders I had just taken. I wasn’t smiling. So I now take no more than 2 orders at a time and make sure I’m always smiling, so that everyone can see the friendly flight attendant about to serve them, and not some machine.
Not smiling with a Moai in Chile

One of our local union presidents never smiles. I’ve never seen one grace his face. He looks as if he may be in pain or hates the entire world. People always wonder how he was ever hired as a flight attendant in the first place. A smile is formed primarily by flexing the muscles at the sides of the mouth. He apparently had them removed.Some smiles include a contraction of the muscles at the corner of the eyes, an action known as a “Duchenne smile”. Smile and the world smiles with you!

My favorite thing is when passengers smile. During boarding, it’s so nice to see a smile. It opens up the chance for conversation as they they stand in the line waiting to reach their seat. I’ll make a comment on the nice smile and guess that they may be going home. “That’s a great smile…you must be going home. Nothing like getting home after a trip.”

A nice smile from an employee


A passenger deplaning with a smile usually means they were happy with the flight, and that’s why I’m there, after all, besides safety and security, to make their flight memorable. I give a parting comment to every passenger as they leave the plane and the big smiles, the thank yous, the hand shakes and comments about the nice service, the great announcements, the friendly crew…it really makes my day.
Is it odd that one of my favorite things about my job is something as simple as a friendly passenger smile? No, I don’t think it’s odd. It’s just nice. They say you’re never fully dressed without one. And if I’m any good at this, you, the reader, are smiling now! A friendly smile. It’s my favorite.

Even the aircraft interphone has a smile!




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My Favorite Things: The Double Chime

An arrival in Lisbon

Whether it’s a great flight or one where, as I say, “I earned my money on that one!” there is no better sound than the double chime. Any flight attendant would agree. Ding…ding. At the end of the flight it means get in gear, the plane is now on final approach. If you’re working with a crew member as dry as a slice of fruit cake, it means in half an hour you most likely won’t fly with them again for a very long time. If you’re about to start vacation, it means that all though your brain has been on vacation for a week, your body is about to finally get in synch. If at the end of a trip assignment, it means that you’re home. After a long 4-day domestic trip, it’s simply the best sound in the universe.

The pilots engage the double chime when we descend to 10,000 feet. They do so by cycling the no smoking sign off and back on. Right after take off it tells us the cockpit is no longer sterile, a term that means we are not to disturb them. On approach it’s our signal to prepare for landing and that we can no longer bother the pilots with anything but safety related business.
At this point, we’ve picked up the trash and now we conduct our safety checks. No more pillows and blankets to hand out. No more water for your medicine. No more milk for your baby. It’s go time. Safety checks (seats forward, bags, tray tables, and head rest are stowed) and a jumpseat away from what we hope is a short taxi and then get off the plane…we want to go home!

Jet bridge controls

What is better is when the double chime sounds early. Flight crews, just like our wonderful passengers, love arriving early. I once had a layover in Hawaii and arrived an hour early, which was splendid. On a horrid, short layover in a worn-out airport hotel, an early arrival means just that much more rest before going at it the next day. And when home, I love it when I reach my car and look at my watch and think, ‘gee, had we been on time, I’d just now be touching down, yet here I am, in my Peng-UV, about join the masses on my commute home’. (Yes, I call my SUV a Peng-UV. Why not?)
There can be a down side to an early arrival, and don’t even mention it, for it is likely to happen. The dreaded ‘gate-is-occupied’. That’s the worst…arriving early and having to sit on the plane…on the ground…even longer after a long flight. But when the gate is free, and we’re early, that’s a good day.
Waiting for the jet bridge

Another bad thing is having a gate, arriving to it, the engines shut down and the passengers are right behind me, waiting for the door to be opened, but there is no gate agent to bring the jet bridge up. “I guess they weren’t expecting us this early,” I’ll say to those just behind me.

And it’s funny when we are due in early, the captain has stated as much on his several announcements, but a passenger will stop me to ask about a tight connection. I’ll look at their ticket and see that they had 50 minutes when we were to be on time. “No worries, ma’am, we’re due in 20 minutes early.”
You may notice often, flight crew standing in the galley at the end of the flight after the seat belt sign is on. We may be talking about our weekend or our next trip. We may be talking about the strange dude in 22A. We may be talking about the overly talkative pilots. But when you hear the double chime, you’ll see us smile and maybe do a little dance. The double chime. It’s 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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View to a Thrill: Defeets!



Lima, Peru on a nice day

While in Lima, I took advantage of one of my favorite layover activities: I got a massage. A flying partner had recommended the blind lady massage place, just over a mile away from our hotel. She spoke very highly of her past experience, and in total, there were five of us who set out together. I was also interested in a pedicure, but only if from the sight-enabled. Sorry, but I don’t trust that type of work to the non-seeing.
Picking at my feets

Before my massage, I went behind a curtain from the waiting area for my pedicure. Everything was very clean and I could see that the implements to be used were removed from a sterilizing device. The friendly Inca woman wore a white overcoat, gloves and mask. It’s a good thing. Not that my feet weren’t fresh, but all the dust soon to come off of them would have clogged her up good!

She began by spraying my feet with a fine mist and massaging them with a perfect touch. It felt so good. She then grabbed a tin box and began digging out metal implements and picks, much akin to what you’d expect to see at the dentist. She got in there deep, picking and tugging. She scraped off layers of dead skin. She grabbed a power tool, yes, a power tool, and went to work on my nails, cuticles and soles. I now knew what it felt like to be a horse. She went after my hooves while smoke and dead skin dust went flying this way and that. It all felt divine! I was the prize animal getting ready for the show…blue ribbons, to be sure.
When done, nearly an hour later, she lotioned my feet up and massaged them once more. I felt like royalty, while asking, as I usually do in situations such as this, “I wonder what the poor people are doing.” The Incan woman couldn’t understand me. Ah, who cares?
The power tool on my hooves

I glided into my massage on feet clean enough to eat off of and feeling pretty well. There was no wait for the massage, and I was certainly ready to continue the royal treatment.
I was escorted into the dim room by a tiny Incan woman with cloudy eyes. She was blind, as witnessed from the manner in which she felt her way around the room and my back. I got on the massage table and her tiny hands showed unusual power as they blindly, at first, found their way around my body to the spots in need of work, using great intuition- working out the irritating knots. I opened my eyes while on the table and noticed her amazingly tiny feet. I swear her shoes were made for a 5-year old!
Soft, white, fluffy clouds

But after my tiny Incan woman was done, I felt I was the king of the world, but for a fraction of the cost; only $25US for the massage and pedicure. Next time, however, I’d like to go for the two-hour massage and maybe I’ll consider taking a cab the mile or so back to the hotel instead of walking, as we did. Or better yet, just catch a ride on a nice, soft, white, fluffy cloud!