Come Fly With Me?

Come Fly With Me ?

When I have written so much on how to operate the emergency equipment on-board, making the demonstration in front of so many people, you might have guessed I was describing a part of the job which I loved very much.

Yes, when I stood there and had the attention of our passengers who were enjoying my performance, for me it was the closest I had ever got to a career in life which would have been number one, had life circumstances allowed me to pursue it.

But I had a counsellor, a partner. It was my common sense, weighing the options offered to me…at the time, pushing me, and quickly making me decide, at the end, that it was more important to become independent.

This meant of course …supporting myself …financially.

That is the difference really when making choices in life.

I abandoned my talent, the one I should have encouraged, nurtured or forced out to emerge.

Because I knew times were not favourable for me then… towards that direction.

Consequently second to best, I opted for the few minutes of stardom, when  I had an audience to …kind of “ act “ the demonstration for, knowing it was the only occasion I had to show I could do better with it. Acting it was what I did, putting my soul in it… even though I knew this was not the stage I had wished.

When the demonstration was over, although I saw many happy people, donning my serving blouse on would send me back to anonymity. Efficiency would join in and my artistic personality would rest peacefully for awhile.

Hard work in the cabin would follow.

Back to the tough reality, it was nonetheless quite comforting to know that we did more “waitressing “than “rescuing “!

I always pushed limits, working hazardously to the point of endangering my own safety.

When the cabin was secured for take-off and I had rushed to buckle up in my jump-seat few seconds before lift-off, it was then the “hostessing” duties would take over.

The aircraft was barely off the ground, in the air, and still climbing that the liquor carts were already being unfolded. A full Boeing 707 demanded speed and organization. Space extremely limited and in narrow aisle. Navigate was definitely not what we did!

Filling them manually and according to the directives given in training, the three shelves were crammed with the multiple ingredients for the aperitifs soon to be served before lunch.

We worked fast, wordlessly with precise teamwork.

The seat-belt sign was still on when my colleague and I were already rolling liquor cart number one to begin the service at the first row in Coach…while the other liquor cart would start from the middle moving aft. And, unfortunately for those who longed to stretch out, the liquor carts fitted with a clinical perfection the aisle width…

When the seat-belt sign was turned off, and the non-smoking forbiddance lifted, an atmosphere close to mild pandemonium erupted.

From cigarette smoke slowly fogging the relative clear air of the beginning…to people having the basic human need to get up from their seats, to be “seen” or to move about, or queuing in the aisle to get a quick relief in another natural errand…that is when my acting excitement was quickly drenched with the cold shower of trivialities, suppressing the urge to admonish, sighing with-in but smiling politely with-out.

I confess I would let my body express the enduring moments with another kind of show… Gesturing emotions, like impatience or hopelessness, or frustration…I could do them and very well too.

But:

- “If you want to be served, you must give us the space we need to serve you …! “

Was the line I would hear in the beginning.

It was an opening phrase to a forthcoming sermon soon introduced “eloquently “to me… by a more senior hostess!

On a full day, nine hours flight like this one, and till we landed in New-York, I would never stop walking… 

Bon Appétit !