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A Penguinmas Miracle

I’m out of this world!

In December of 1967, my mother turned twenty. Two days later, I was born. I always felt as if having birthdays two days apart made us even closer. Mom didn’t have a lot of money when I was very young, which isn’t anything I ever noticed. I never had big parties with lots of friends and elaborate gifts. What I had was a good meal, home made eclairs with ice cream, a few candles to blow out, and a few gifts, which always meant the world to me, as modest as they may have been. What I had most of, however, was love. I always cherished how Mom and I would celebrate together, on the day in between. My birthday has always been my favorite day of the year, thanks to all that Mom did to make it so special.

As I got older, I found out that I’m not the only one who loves their birthday. Mother Airline loves birthdays so much, they make it paid holiday. I love this, as I’ve always thought it best to work on your birthday. None of that taking the day off for me. I want the wishes. I want the dinner and a round of drinks. It’s the following day, which should be taken off- if nothing else than to recover! As Mother Airline ensures, it IS a holiday, like Christmas is the day for celebrating Christ’s birthday, I always wish others a similar holiday-styled greeting. Happy Jasonmas. Happy Lindamas. Happy insert-name-here-mas!
I scoff when people apologize for belated birthday wishes. Are you kidding? Make my birthday more than one day? Thank you, please! When I turned forty, I stretched it out to a whole freaking month! I had friends all over the globe, so I had a party at home in the Bay Area, I had a party with friends in Portland, I partied all month on layovers all over the country. I now see why they celebrate the emperor’s birthday in Japan. Were I emperor, we’d be all be celebrating my big day.
Penguin’s first birthday

Then I hit fifty. All of a sudden, I was of the opinion that maybe it was time to put birthday celebrations to rest, sort of like some people no longer celebrate birthdays, but anniversaries of past birthdays. How could I be fifty? I don’t act fifty, whatever that means. I don’t feel fifty, except when my back is in spasm, my eyes are blurry, I can’t remember what day it is…okay, maybe I do feel fifty!

Really, my fiftieth birthday was just another day. I felt no different at the end of the day as I had from the end of the previous one. Hide my calendar and I would have no idea I had circled the sun fifty times. As I fretted about turning fifty in the weeks leading up to it, the dread soon began to fade. I half wanted to celebrate Penguinmas in a big way, and, as I had done for my fortieth, in more than one location. However, I wound up keeping things fairly low-key.
With Penguinmas being a paid holiday, I picked up a trip to Lima, so I decided to celebrate on the day before, as I had done with Mom for so many years. As the day before came and went, I found some very special things, what came to be known as Penguinmas miracles.
As a stark reminder that this was my fiftieth birthday. I awoke, just barely, and began to stretch. Charlie horse. The pain was mind-numbing, but then I started to laugh. My cats backed up and watched in horror. Such pain and laughter all at once. We start losing our minds at fifty, don’t we? It was a miracle I made it to fifty. What a welcome!
When the pain subsided, I realized that I was hearing rain. It filled my home with that wonderful sound it makes as it hits my roof. My cats don’t normally sleep with me, especially the boy. This day, however, they were both glued to my side. Rain on my roof, a chill in the December air, cats at my side, warm covers, all I wanted to do was remain buried under there all day, but I had a lunch date, so I limped out to prepare for Penguinmas.
Driving in the cold rain across town was nothing in order that I could have a wonderful lunch with a good friend. We met at a nice pizza joint near downtown. The rain was relentless, which is not the type of weather I normally enjoy being out in. Rain is normally for naps under the blanket with cats and an old movie, pretty much the way in which my day had begun. Lunch was had, as well as a wonderful conversation. Better yet, it cost me nothing. For this, I’ll venture out any time, birthday or not, rain or shine.
Mom and both of my grand parents dote over me.

Next on the day’s agenda was drinks with one of my longest-time friends. Living in a high rise downtown, I always enjoy the views of one of my favorite skylines in the world. My love of architecture was born in Houston, because of the modern buildings, and they still catch my fancy. I love being in their midst. My friend and I had dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe, and he then treated me to a show. While not a huge fan of Winona Judd, I thoroughly enjoyed an evening listening to her tell stories between songs and carols on a stage, which was illuminated by several Christmas trees. It left me feeling very festive.
After the show, the fun continued by meeting a work friend for yet more drinks. I’m not a fan of bars, or the bar scene, but it’s fun to be out and mingling with the other humans. Since it’s something I do so infrequently, I quite enjoyed it.
Then came my favorite- SNOW! I know, in Houston! It was a Penguinmas miracle! It started to come

My grandparents just after the original Penguinmas

down around 10:00pm and it did so for quite a while, in large flake-clusters. The bar emptied for a few minutes as patrons, with phones in hand, set out for the photos that lit up social media. I’m not exactly a newcomer to snow, so I stayed put, sucking down my brew.

I remember it snowing in Houston when I was very young. Mom even picked me up from school early so I could go home and play. Now that I am a homeowner, it was nice to come home that night and see my lawn turned white-my roof as well. Nothing calms like snow. I’m such a penguin!
Penguinmas Eve turned out to be such a special day, but that would soon pale in comparison to my Penguinmas morn. This would leave me feeling like that Japanese emperor, and all of my fans were celebrating. I had so many calls, texts and greetings on social media, it took me over two hours to view and respond to them all.
Around my third birthday, possibly the year it snowed in Houston

It was the first time I’d seen this on such a grand scale. You see, I’m not very computer literate. For years, I have taken a few moments each day to wish friends a happy birthday on social media. Facebook is great at letting me know the day and rarely do I miss anyone’s big event. I’ve noticed in the past few years that I get far fewer greetings than I feel I deserve. I have invested a lot into celebrating friendmas’s, so I feel I’ve been on the short end of the stick with the comparatively few wishes I receive in return.

Recently, I was informed that my Facebook privacy settings were compromised, so I did some poking around. I found a box that was not clicked, something about displaying my birthday publicly. I clicked it. I have over 600 friends on Facebook who previously had not been getting the Penguinmas notification because that box had not been clicked. The flood gates were now opened. Of course, what resulted was me realizing that in the past, people had been recognizing my big day without being reminded by the big computers at Facebook central. This really made me feel special. I hadn’t been ignored the past few years, I was truly being honored by friends who knew of Penguinmas without the reminder.
Adding to the many emails of the day, a few years ago I figured out that most restaurants have birthday clubs, many of which present terrific birthday offers. Sometimes it’s a buy one get one free deal, which I had used for Penguinmas Eve. Other times it’s a free dessert with purchase. There are a few places that flat out give free food! I’ve always loved going to Denny’s on my birthday for my free breakfast. I normally do this alone, after all, who wants to go to Denny’s to celebrate a friend’s birthday? I say that every year, but as I’m sopping up honey with the fluffy pancakes, I’m always impressed at how good the meal is. I get a free BBQ sandwich from Dickey’s, a free slider from Zaxbies (they used to give a free combo meal), and Red Robin throws in a free burger with endless fries. I get so many deals, I don’t normally get to use them all.
Penguin and his mama

Eager to earn those holiday bucks, and milk my big day even further, I was ready to go to work and fly to Lima. When I got to work and checked my drop file, I found another Penguinmas miracle. I had recently attended the retirement celebrations of the 747 aircraft in Honolulu. I was sad to see her go and as an aviation enthusiast, I wanted to get my hands on the swag being offered. There were gift bags, special booklets and even commemorative pins to wear. Some of the swag was very difficult to get a hold of, so I had put out the word that I was seeking them. A flight attendant based in Hawaii found some swag, both relating to the 747 retirement, as well as from other aviation-related events. When I got to work, there was a large envelope full of neat little things, such as Mother Airline playing cards, pins, special aircraft engine coins and a lovely note. There was also a nice birthday card from my supervisor.

At the end of the day, I had extra cash in my wallet thanks to Penguinmas holiday pay, an inbox full of well wishes, a few great memories, some free meals, and I was in Lima, Peru. I joined some flying partners at the bar. It was past midnight, so Penguinmas was officially over, but the celebrations continued and I had a couple of drinks thanks to my crew. I may still organize a little celebration in the spring to be with my friends who live on the West Coast, but even if that slips past me, I had the kind of birthday I would be envious of. I’m glad it was mine, made special by the many people in my life who bring me joy. It really was a Penguinmas Miracle!

I feel like a king on my birthday
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View to a Thrill: Lima Layovers

Gato on the street in Lima

A friend was reading my short stories and noticed that I go to Lima a lot. I like long layovers and the 25 hours we get to spend there is fun, and I enjoy the 6 hour trip from Houston. He asked if I could write some helpful tips, and I was only happy to do so.
First, there is the hotel. I stay in a lot of Marriott hotels with my job, which is interesting, because in the 90s, I worked hotel security at a Marriott in Dallas. But the JW Marriott in Lima’s Miraflores district is one of the finer hotels in the system. It offers commanding views of the cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The lobby is above street level and has nice marble floors and walls, a modern water fountain and grand chandelier. The staff are all smiles and very accommodating. When checking in, there is often either flavored water or teas sitting out. Be careful of the coca tea, I hear it will show positive in certain drug tests!
Dessert in the Marriott Rewards Lounge
The room levels are secured with a keyed entry in the elevators. If you’re lucky enough to be a Marriott Rewards member with access, the lounge on the 24thfloor is quite deluxe. They serve fantastic food; an elaborate breakfast with waffles, hot cakes, meats, breads, cereals, eggs…I could keep going. Lunch is often easy foods, such as quesadillas, pizza and salads. In the evening you can find ribs, burger bites, and local chicken dishes with rice and usually a tasty soup. For dessert, don’t miss several of the small dishes, enjoy a cookie or some South American chocolates.
The rooms all have ocean views and are generous in size. The bathrooms have a stand up shower with a separate tub. You’ll find all the amenities; nail file, sewing kit, cotton balls and swabs, nice-smelling shampoos and lotion and even bath salts. Each room has a small refrigerator, with ample room for storing a few of your own items. The coffee maker is a bit confusing to use, but I don’t drink coffee; follow the instructions and you should be fine.
They offer a great dry cleaning service and they also have complimentary shoe shining. Don’t forget, even though it’s complimentary, tips are greatly appreciated in Peru.
An old car seen on my exploration
If you know me, you know I occasionally enjoy an adult beverage…or two. One of my favorite bars the world over is located in the casino that adjoins the JW Marriott- Casino Majestic. I mention this all the time and people always ask why I say it’s my favorite bar. For one, the bartender now knows me and for the first time in my life I can walk in, say hi, and ask for my usual. He knows I drink pisco sours and that I will ask for the complimentary snacks, including tasty sandwiches. Also of note, the casino is a great place to exchange US cash for Peruvian pesos.
If shopping is your thing, you can never go wrong in asking a flight attendant where to do so! Since Lima was new to me this year, I have followed a few flight attendants around in hopes of a good deal. Of course, right across the street from the hotel is a very interesting shopping mall, Larcomar. Why interesting? From the street, one would never know there was a shopping mall, as it’s built into the cliff, below street level. Just a few yards across the park from the JW, towards the ocean, down some stairs and you will be confronted with many the up scale shops you’d find in any North American city. 
Colorful Peru
On the north end of the mall, on the lower level, is even a grocery store. You won’t find all the nitty gritty, but it’s a decent sized store with liquor, staples and even fresh food and a few seats to enjoy dining while looking out over the ocean. The larger store’s a little further away, so if you’re in a bind for time, this one will do the trick.
Other dining choices in the mall range from standards, such as TGI Friday’s, Pardo’s Chicken and Tony Roma’s, to fast bites, such as KFC, Pizza hut and local burger fast food, all in a small food court. Other than Pardo’s, who has great chicken, I usually skip the mall and find a nice quiet restaurant a few blocks away. Make sure you have time, Peruvians are not known for fast lunch service. Plan on a slow, leisurely meal and let them know when you’re ready for the bill.
An Inka Market in Lima
The JW is at the end of Avenue Jose Larco in Mira Flores. Walk up this street to find all you could want on a Lima stay over within about a mile or so. For shopping, you will want to explore the various Inca and Indian Markets, which are located just north of Ave Jose Pardo on Ave Pettit Thouars. From the hotel, it’s a 1.1 mile walk, or an inexpensive cab ride. The markets are full of local wares, including scarves, sweaters, gloves, hats and more made from Alpaca wool, which is very soft. Many of the women I have shopped with enjoy looking at jewelry. The markets are a great source for holiday gifts, as well.
Many crew members love going to the grocery store. There is a great store with fresh food, a liquor department and any necessary staples just west of the intersection of Ave Jose Larco and Calle Schell, which is an easy .7 mile walk. Some of my more interesting finds in the Metro Supermarket, which I’ve written about previously, is the chocolate milk in plastic bags, and chocolate Besos de Mosa, in yellow boxes…marshmallow covered in chocolate on a thin cookie. If you like churros, on the corner of Jose Larco and Schell is a nice cafe with local desserts.
I love walking the streets of Lima
For another culinary find, walk down Calle Schell to Diagonal and head north. Across from Parque Kenedy is Calle de las Pizzas. You can’t miss it, it’s an alleyway lined with restaurant after restaurant. Each one seems to have the same basic menu: pizza, pasta and seafood. Outside each you’ll most likely find friendly but almost pushy hawkers trying to convince you to dine with them. We found one that promised a free pisco sour, so ask around!
Seafood lunch on Calle de las Pizzas
And finally, I give to you a find that I happened upon by chance after dining on seafood on Calle de las Pizzas…The Chocolate Museum! ChocoMuseo is located at Calle Berlin 375. It’s an out of the way, lazy little street, just 2 blocks from pizza row. Here you’ll find everything chocolate, from soap, to teas, to candy bars. There are displays on how chocolate is grown and produced. Buy a tee shirt and chocolate liquor to take home or have a seat in the outdoor area and sample fruit-dipped chocolate fondue! 
Lining up for fondue at the chocolate museum
Lima has so much to offer and no matter how you travel, whether on the cheap or going it first class, you will be happy. The people, mostly Incan descendants, are friendly, short in stature and colorful. It’s a fun city to explore. It’s easy to walk, but do be careful of crossing the street, pedestrians don’t necessarily have the right of way. In the 6 or 7 trips I’ve had there in the past year, I’ve been able to explore a lot of Mira Flores. My next few trips, I hope to explore more the culture and history of what is the third largest city in the Americas. I can’t wait! 
Sunset behind an island in the Atlantic
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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!

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Defeets part 2: Eight Doctors Running

On my flight home from Lima, my feet were still smooth but my scalp began to itch. It felt so good to graze my fingernails across it. This is something new; my head never itches. I asked the flight attendant who had also had a massage with the blind women on our Lima layover to take a look. Did I have lice? What’s going on up there?
She quickly inspected my balding, graying head of very short-cut hair and informed me that I had a sun burn. It was red. I did walk for about an hour in the overcast weather blanketing Lima that day and had failed to wear my hat until the walk back to the hotel. Damn. After my bout with melanoma, I really try to avoid being in the sun, or even under cloud cover, knowing it, too, can cause sun burn. I was relieved to hear the cause of the itch was not lice.
Red, splotchy face and scalp.

So I thought nothing of the fact that my scalp was still itchy the following day. I had only 31 hours off before another trip to Lima. I returned to the airport not only with my scalp still itchy, but now my chin, sides and neck itched as well. It wasn’t very bad, although I did think it peculiar. The thought of calling in sick crossed my mind, but I wound up dismissing it as being overly cautious.

Flash forward to the airplane- halfway to Lima. The service was done and I enjoyed a conversation in the aft galley with one of my flying partners. My feet felt itchy and taking my shoes off to rub them felt like bliss. My head itched, my underarms itched and now I was feeling like my lips were twice as thick as normal, and a bit numb. I was very much aware of the fact that my face was possibly growing red as we continued talking. When the conversation came to a conclusion, I eased into the lavatory to take a look.
Shock and horror.
On my arms were these large, raised welts. They itched so badly, at times I thought I’d go insane. OK, something was very wrong. I returned to the aft galley and found another flying partner filling cups with water. I asked if she had any medical training. She didn’t, but casually said that our purser was a nurse, as she continued filling the plastic cups.

The welts I found under my arms.

When I approached the purser in the forward galley and asked for a moment of her time, I had a quick flashback to being a general manager and asking such a question and realizing that they were freaking out; not knowing why the hell I was asking to speak with them privately. She walked with me to a well-lit part of the galley and I shared my new-found illness. It’s always something with me, it seems.

Step one: contact the pilots so they can get in touch with the in-flight medical department.
Step two: take a brief medical history of the patient. Oh, my gods, that’s ME!
Step three: make an announcement asking if there are any medical professionals on board.

I’ve been the one to make such announcements numerous times. I’ve seen the reactions of the patents, which range from complete acceptance that medical help is needed, to complete denial, and a feeling that there is no reason to alarm anyone. I knew exactly how these patients felt. As the doctors began to assemble in the forward galley, I felt the redness in my face was no longer a result of this illness, but for the embarrassment. The first doctor seemed to arrive before she finished making the announcement. The second doctor was right on his heals. The third approached from the right aisle. The fourth followed back on the left aisle. Within one minute, there were no fewer than 8 doctors gathered in the small space.

I was both a patient and a working flight attendant. My first reaction was to inform the still arriving doctors that we had enough volunteers, but asking if anyone had any specialization in dermatology. No one indicated such. One of the doctors present was a man I had spoken with before we left Houston. He informed me that I was in good hands, and that the doctors present were all going to a medical conference in Lima!
After all was said and done, I was given Benadryl from the medical kit, followed by a shot. This did the trick and my itchiness was alleviated. My crew demanded that I sit out the service, but I did do some work while they were in the aisle, cleaning the galley and closing out the liquor cart. The Benedryl made me quite drowsy and I finally crashed in the van on the way to the layover hotel.
Many culprits were recommended to me; shellfish, fabric softener, fruit cake. The only thing I could think of was the massage by the blind woman. She had massaged my head, which is where the whole thing started. She had her hand everywhere I was itching, and it all started only a few hours later. Thank goodness I didn’t get a happy ending!
The view from my Lima hotel

Upon returning to Houston from this trip, I saw a doctor immediately when the office opened. He gave me another shot and some pills that wiped me out, but helped control the itching. My palms were red; I called it my stigmata. My arms itched as well as my scalp. Twenty-four hours later, it was all gone; crisis averted. I have never had such a reaction in my life, and I hope to never have one again.

I don’t know what this means for the future of my getting layover massages. I likes me some good massage, and the blind woman did a really great job. I don’t know what type of oil she used on me, and it would be difficult to find out. This experience has me thinking I won’t be returning to the blind women after all. Such a shame, too. But oil’s well that ends well, as they say.
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Adventures in Flight: Skip to the Loo, My Darling

Penguin and plane will travel
You’d think, with all the countries to which I’ve visited, I’d be more than capable in choosing the correct rest room when the need arises. Well, I do a very good job at it. In fact, I seem to have a more difficult time deciphering the crazy gender codes used in the States. We can be pretty crafty when coming up with rest room door signs. We’ve all seen the stick figures, or “Dames and Gents. Recently, I saw doors in Seattle- one said “Sitting” while the other said “Standing”. Could be confusing for a guy needing to do number two. Whether it’s Caballeros, Men, Hombres, or just an M on the door, I very rarely have an issue.
I once had to make an emergency stop while driving through a city on the interstate. Upon seeing a Target store, I thought, ‘that should be a clean facility in which to sit.’ It was early in the day and the parking lot was near empty. I walked rather quickly into the main entrance, happy to see the restrooms immediately to my left. I looked up quickly and saw “Men” and went right in. It was very clean and I had the whole room to myself. I did my business and as I was washing my hands, was shocked to see a woman enter, followed by a second. Looking at the ground to avoid eye-contact as I made a hasty departure…without drying my hands…I discovered that the “Men” sign was actually a “Women” sign, but the “Wo” part was hidden behind part of a wall. Had I kept looking as I rounded the corner, I might have noticed my folly.
Lady and Gentle restroom sign in Beijing
A few months ago, I was on holiday in Chile and was at a fine dining establishment in Valparaiso. When we arrived, the first thing I wanted to do was wash my hands and make room for the copious amounts of wine I was about to consume. The rest room was just outside in a central atrium. It was very deluxe. I looked at one sign, and then the other. I was not familiar with either. Realizing I was in a country where Spanish was the official language, I entered the door that had the more masculine sounding name. It was a very nice facility, floral aroma, nice art. This was, indeed, a nice restaurant. This was also, indeed, the women’s rest room!
Ladies sign in Chile

So I marveled on a recent Buenos Aires layover with fellow flight crew in yet another very nice restaurant. After a few glasses of wine and some loosening chatter, I was the first in need of finding the facilities. Door one had a boot. Door two had a ballet slipper. Cute, and obvious. I would make no mistake this time. I commented on the clever use of foot wear signage when I returned to the table.

Signage in Peru
Our first officer was the next to use the facilities, and a few minutes later was followed by the bunkie pilot, who, on this trip, was a female. As she got up, the first officer said, “It’s the first door on the right.” He was joking, as that was the door with the boot, so of course she returned with a humorous comment and evil glare at the first officer, and soon the whole table was laughing about restroom humor. You can dress us up…but wit plus wine often ends up going down the drain.
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Adventures in Flight: The Enabler

FA Penguin, at your service

This is how it usually happens; I ask a first class passenger what they would like to drink. They ask what wines we have and after listing them, they find they don’t like what we have to offer and instead order a diet coke. I ask, “We went from wine to ordering a diet coke?”

Or the time I asked the young woman on her first trip to Chile along with her husband for her drink order. She asked for orange juice. I comment, “Just orange juice?… nothing more exciting, like a mimosa or a screw driver?”
Or the young college guy on my flight to Buenos Aires, who looked like he wanted to ask me a question as I picked up his dinner tray, from which he’d eaten every morsel. After pressing him, he said he would love a second meal if that was possible. I told him it was quite possible, as we had a few left. Later, during the landing service, I asked if he’d again like a second meal. He smiled wide and nodded, as if I’d offered the keys to Shangri La. It wasn’t so much his nice demeanor and smile, all though, that’s the quickest way to a flight attendant’s heart. I’m an enabler!
Life is short and one has to live it to the fullest before it throws you under the bus. Or in my case, under the plane (although, these days, it’s harder to tell the difference between the two judging from those who travel).

I’ve been an enabler for many years, and it’s only intensified after my 2 close calls with death. If there’s something you want to do, something you want to try, something you want to experience, I say, get out there and do, try or experience while you still can! You’re never promised tomorrow.

One of the things I enjoy about being a flight attendant is being part of people’s life adventure. I deliver passengers to weddings, to vacations, to job interviews and even funerals. Travel is such a rich experience. Some of us get to do it all the time. Others, only once in a while. I strive to do my best at making sure people who need it, can have a memorable experience while on board the aircraft.
Some of the girls going to PVR

Just a few days ago, I was flying to Puerto Vallarta. On board were 10 attractive young ladies, all wearing identical tee shirts, all quite vibrant and happy. One asked if she could buy all the ladies in the group a drink; all 10 of them. I said, certainly! What’s the occasion? They were all friends of passenger18A, who was about to get married, but not before this bachelorette party let them loose on the Mexican beach resort. I asked what the men were doing. They were all taking a cruise! “You guys know how to do things right!” I told them.

The rock star life in Lima

Currently, I’m writing this from Lima, Peru, where I dined on Peruvian dishes for both lunch and dinner in the hotel executive lounge. Last night, after arriving to our swank hotel, I enjoyed a few Pisco sours at the casino bar with some of my crew. I am enjoying the view over the Pacific ocean from my 15th floor room. I live like a rock star! I could never afford such a lifestyle without this job; staying in deluxe hotels all around the world, meeting fun people, working with great crews and trying local dishes and drinks. I truly am wealthy for my life, my friends and my family. 

I don’t care about your diet, I’ll offer you dessert. I don’t care about your beliefs, I’ll tempt you with sin. I don’t care about your conservative ways, I’m going to keep having fun, and go sliding into my grave sideways, shouting for joy! I just want you to accompany me. Not in the grave part, but in having fun getting there!