Take Out Your Headphones and Notice Me!

Firstly I would like to start out this blog by saying that I am a sweet and considerate person but like all human beings, I have flaws. Number one is that I am impatient and number two is that I don’t like it when people don’t pay attention to me. Now my flaws may stem from the fact that I am the middle child and have subconsciously always craved attention, but, whatever the case, I believe my flaws are the reason why the following scenario bugs me so much. Every time I work a flight this is what happens:

 I begin my daily inflight service by having my trolley in front of me and push it down the aisle. I stop at seat 1A, smile sweetly and ask the lady sitting there, “Ma’am can I offer you a beverage?” But of course to my usual dismay, there is no comment, or even an acknowledgement of my existence. Next, I try lightly waving my hand in her peripheral vision get the attention of this lady and repeat, “Ma’am, may I get you a beverage?” This time she recognizes that someone is speaking to her, so she drudgingly peels her head away from the inflight entertainment system and looks at me with a blank stare. I repeat for the third time, still smiling sweetly. Her response to my question is, “Whaaa?!” I repeat my question again for the fourth time, with that oh so genuine smile on my face, “Ma’am, may I offer you a beverage?” She repeats, “whaat!?” Then she huffs, pulls out her earphones and I have to repeat myself for the fifth time. I still have a sweet smile on my face but this time I start to feel the muscles in my jaw flex ever so slightly. Finally, I get her a coke. Then I get to 2B, and this is when it starts to get really fun. “Sir, may I offer you a beverage?” No response. “Sir” I say as I lightly wave my hand to get his attention. “May I get you a beverage?” There is still no acknowledgement of me standing right in front of him, so I try again. After three persistent attempts and no recognition from the gentleman I give up. I cannot stand in front of the man who won’t even take notice of my very presence. Yet, I still have that cute smile plastered on my face, and taking a deep breath I re-adjust my scarf, pushing the trolley further down the aisle. I encounter several more instances like the women in 1A and right before I am about to ask the child in 5D what she would like to drink, I hear the flight attendant call button. It’s from the gentleman seating of 2B, and as I make my way over to him he pipes up, “um excuse me miss, but it seems you missed me.” It is clear by his hostile tone of voice that he’s irritated that I ‘somehow managed’ to miss him.  All I want to say is: “NO I DIDN’T MISS YOU, you just weren’t paying any fucking attention!!!!!” But I don’t, of course not, no, never. Instead, I smile sweetly and profusely apologize for my mistake in forgetting to ask him for a beverage. I ask him what he would like, trying hard to keep my smile plastered on my face so that he can’t tell that all I want to do is tip the beverage on him.  And then, I push the trolley back on…20 more rows to go!

Dear readers of this class, I swear I am a very sweet thing.... but next time you’re on one of my flights please, please, please, take out your damn headphones and notice me!!!!!!

A peculiar Event, Written for My Professor and Fellow Classmates Alike.

          People are often inquisitive when I mention my line of work, though I cannot quite place a finger on exactly why it stems such idle curiosity. Perhaps it’s the stereotypical uniforms that have managed to stay timelessly static in an ever-changing world - ties for males, scarfs that females wrap around their necks, and four symmetrical stripes all Captains wear proudly upon both their shoulders. Or perhaps it’s a combination of this distinctive uniform with the suitcases that roll alongside us as we make our way amongst the buzz of the airport and onto planes that have the potential to take us anywhere. Yes, perhaps this is the reason why people are so curious… Are these ongoing travellers provoked to look upon us with fascination and intrigue of our supposed glamorous lifestyles?  

Although I may not be able to provide a definitive answer as to the reason why people are so curious about my career, I am often able to oblige their relentless and most persistent questions. Actually, I do so willingly by providing them with the dirty and ever most interesting tales of my career. Let me indicate, Professor, fellow classmates and anyone else who may stumble upon this blog: everyday in my line of work, I encounter a peculiar event.

 Today for instance, I worked the most peculiar of flights. It all started right after take off, I was smiling at passengers as I was making my way through the cabin when all of a sudden I smelt something. Actually, to say I smelt something is somewhat of an understatement. More like out of nowhere, an extreme odor slapped my nostrils. Now in my profession, we are trained to keep a heightened sense of awareness at all times. But at this very moment, my ability to smell was one of my five senses I would have been ever so willing to eradicate.  Adjectives do not exist in the English language for me to describe to you this peculiar odor. My co-workers and I could not fathom what it was exactly, this smell we were smelling. This proves to be a troublesome thing, as how do you ever hope to detain an odor if you don’t know what one such odor may be?

As the flight flew on, the odor, at a most exponential rate became increasingly odoriferous. At this point I had to make the call. “Um….Hellooo Captain. Er, it’s your flight attendant speaking and I uh, felt it necessary to bring to your attention Captain, that there is an odor. An odor of which we cannot define nor determine the exact location of its whereabouts.” My nostrils couldn’t have been more relieved at the response I received. As fate would have it, we were already on our descent and I could prepare for arrival.

            Upon arrival as I was saying my goodbyes to passengers, all that I received in response was muffled words. Sweaters were covering their entire faces, and if they did not own a sweater, then they were much too busy plugging their noses with their hands and breathing in through their mouth to even signify a response to my goodbye. Then, as the last person hurried off the aircraft, it was found. The odor. I heard my co-workers’ screams mid cabin, I ran over to assist and that’s when I saw it. The odor. It covered the entire seat, ran up the tray table and dripped brown goop onto the carpet. I have never seen anything quite like it, in such a mass quantity. I did not know up until that very moment that one human was capable of producing so much of it, and in one sitting. And now as I sit here and write this blog, still numb from the experience, I wonder, how did this person leave the aircraft without me noticing that they were completely covered in shit?

Dear readers, I do so ever apologize for the flicker of glamour you may have once felt towards my career. I feel it necessary to end this blog by stating that in this world, no matter the choice of career: shit happens. 

First Post

Hello World, or in particular Professor and fellow classmates.