Letter to the Flying Public from author unknown
We’re sorry we have no pillows.
We’re sorry we’re out of blankets.
We’re sorry the airplane is too cold.
We’re sorry the airplane is too hot.
We’re sorry the overhead bins are full.
We’re sorry we have no closet space for your over-sized bag.
We’re sorry that’s not the seat you wanted.
We’re sorry there’s a restless toddler/overweight/offensive smelling passenger seated next to you.
We’re sorry the plane is full and there’s no other seats available.
We’re sorry you didn’t get your upgrade.
We’re sorry that guy makes you uncomfortable because he ‘looks like a terrorist’.
We’re sorry there’s a thunderstorm and we can’t take off.
We’re sorry we don’t know when it will stop.
We’re sorry you’re crammed into a space so small that if you were an animal PETA would protest.
We’re sorry a Super 80 has no music or video entertainment for your 3 hour flight.
We’re sorry we ran out of your favorite soda.
We’re sorry there’s no more sandwiches.
We’re sorry that Budweiser costs $6.00.
We’re sorry we don’t have diapers for your baby.
We’re sorry we don’t have milk for same baby.
We’re sorry you can’t hang out by the cockpit door waiting to use the bathroom.
We’re sorry you can’t hang out at the back of the airplane.
We’re sorry you have to sit down and fasten your seatbelt.
We’re sorry you have to put your seat up for landing.
We’re sorry we don’t know when we’re going to land.
We’re sorry we don’t know whether your plane to (substitute any city in the world) will be waiting for you when we land.
We’re sorry we’ve been diverted because we ran out of gas waiting to land.
We’re sorry for these and so many other things that we have absolutely no control over but which we are held accountable for EVERY SINGLE DAY.
Please understand. Flight attendants are not the enemy. We share your space. More than anyone – we want to have a nice, pleasant travel experience.
There is a reason behind everything we ask you to do. It may be a FAA Directive. It may be security related. It may be a company procedure.
We don’t just make stuff up. We don’t spend 8 weeks at flight attendant training learning how to pour a Coke. There are many things that flight attendants are watching for constantly, on every flight, FOR YOUR SAFETY.
It’s not because we’re bored or so controlling that we just enjoy telling people what to do. I, for one, would like to have one flight where I didn’t have to repeatedly tell people to put their seats up for landing. Seriously. Can’t you just do what we ask sometimes? Without the glares, eye rolling and disdain? For the record – putting your seat up for landing may not seem that important to your personal safety. However, it is very important for the person sitting BEHIND YOU. If you have ever tried to get out of a row where someone has their seat back you know it can be a challenge. Try grabbing your ankles (emergency brace position) or getting out of that row quickly with smoke in the cabin.
Understand a little better now?
Many of the things we ask passengers to comply with are FAA directives. Like carry-on bag stowage and exit row requirements. When we can serve drinks (in the air) and when we can’t (after the aircraft door is closed or on an active taxi-way). We are only allowed to move about the cabin during taxi out for safety related duties. We can’t get you blankets then, or hang coats, or get you drinks. It’s not because we don’t want to. It’s because we are held personally responsible if we fail to comply with FAA directives. Meaning that the FAA can fine us personally up to $10,000 if we fail to comply or enforce an FAA Directive. Like no bags at the bulkhead. No children in the exit row. No one moving around the cabin during taxi. Perhaps now you know why flight attendants get a little testy when people move about the cabin when they’re not supposed to. It’s not the company that gets in trouble for that. It’s us.
Personally, I wish the airlines would show worst case scenario safety videos. Like what happens if you walk through the cabin during turbulence. There could be a guy who has just fallen and smacked his face on the metal armrest and now has a bloody, gushing broken nose. Or an elderly lady who now has a broken arm because someone walking to the bathroom fell on her. Maybe a passenger with a broken neck because somebody opened an overhead bin during turbulence and a suitcase fell out and onto the person sitting beneath it. These things can easily happen in a fast moving, unstable mid-air environment.
Please just trust that we are looking out for your best interest and stop fighting with us about everything we ask you to do. It is exhausting.
Finally, please, please direct your hostility and frustrations in the direction where they will be most effective: The customer service department. They are the ones equipped to handle your complaint and implement procedures for CHANGE. Think about it. Complaining to the flight crew about all your negative travel experiences is about the same as complaining to the office janitor because your computer isn’t working. It may make you feel better to vent about it – but it really won’t fix anything. More than anybody we are already aware of the lack of amenities, food, service and comfort on the aircraft. Please share your concerns with the people in the cubicles at corporate who need that information to make better decisions for the flying public.
It’s frustrating that so many people are in denial about what the travel industry is about now. The glory days of pillows, blankets, magazines and a hot meal for everyone are long gone. Our job is to get you from point A to point B safely and at the cheapest possible cost to you and the company. So be prepared. If you are hungry – get a sandwich before you get on the plane. If you have special dietary needs, be sure to pack something you can eat – we can’t guarantee that catering will have a special meal on-board for you. Mistakes *do* happen. The flight crew does not come in early to cook and prepare all these meals or board them on the plane. If it’s a 3 hour flight, anticipate that you may get hungry and bring some snacks. If you are cold-natured – bring a wrap. Think for yourself and think ahead. Otherwise, don’t complain when you have to pay $3.00 for a cookie and are left with a crusty blanket to keep you warm.
We hear often that the service just isn’t what is used to be. Well, the SERVICE we provide now isn’t what it used to be.
When I was hired, my job was to serve drinks, meals, ensure that safety requirements were met and tend to in-flight medical issues. Since 9/11 my primary job is to ensure that my airplane will not be compromised by a terrorist. 9/11 may be a distant memory now to many, but be assured that EVER DAY a flight attendant reports to work he or she is constantly thinking about 9/11. We feel a personal responsibility to ensure that something like that never happens again. We can never relax. We can never not be suspicious about someone’s intentions. It is difficult to be vigilant and gregarious at the same time. Especially when most of us are working 12 hour days after layovers that only allow 5-6 hours of sleep. Not because we were out partying and having a grand time on the layover – but because the delays that you experience as a passenger also affect us as a crew, so that what was a 10 hour layover is now 8 hours which doesn’t leave a lot of time to recover from what has become an increasingly stressful occupation. And the 8 hours isn’t a solid night of sleep. The bare minimum is 8 hours behind the door of the hotel room – including any time needed to eat dinner or breakfast and the time it takes to wake up, dress and get ready to face another day.
Despite everything, I still enjoy being a flight attendant.
I am writing this letter because I do still care about my profession and about the public perception of flight attendants. In the increasingly challenging travel world it is becoming more imperative than ever for people to just be decent to each other. I can go through an entire day without one person saying anything remotely civil. I will stand at the aircraft door and say hello to everyone who enters and maybe 50% will even look at me and even less will say hello back. I will try to serve someone a meal who can’t be bothered to take their headsets off long enough for me to ask them what they want. Most of the time the only conversation a passenger has with me is when they are complaining. Is it any wonder why flight attendants have shut down a bit? After suffering the disdain of hundreds of passengers a day it’s difficult sometimes to even smile, much less interact. We are human.
We appreciate the same respect and courtesy that passengers do. The next time you fly, try treating the flight attendants the way you would like to be treated. You may be surprised how friendly your flight crew is when they are treated like people.
Filed under daily, life, whatnot, other stuff, soapbox, to read, werkin', world travellin' | Comments OffChivalry might not be dead, but it’s blind, deaf, has a bad hip and a very dickey heart.
Yesterday must have been my own personal version of Friday the 13th, because it was interesting and complicated. It started after a really short layover in Indianapolis (where my cousin and her husband and two children live, who I would have called if I had had a longer layover), and proceeded to Minneapolis and then (thankfully) back to New York.
It wasn’t a terribly complicated day, Mario and I had spent a vast majority of the three day trip oogling boys and making fun of people dressed in awful outfits with bad hair. It happens more often in the midwest than you might think. We decided we would start a Guerrilla Makeover show wherein we’d hijack people coming into the bathroom at the airport and make them look better for their flight and subsequent arrival on vacation, business or home. I think it would be a real blessing. I’ll get on that.
Also, people please take note: Laura Ashley hasn’t been in style since 1995 and even then it was only for sheets and things.
Upon arrival in LaGuardia, I had to catch a crew van to Kew Gardens, Queens to go pick up my laptop. I had accidentally left it in my crashpad on the 13th, and had crossed my fingers for three days that it was still there. It was. After checking email (of course), I jumped on the Long Island Railroad to Penn station, grabbed a cab to Grand Central and *barely* made it onto the 4:07 train to New Haven. Whew!
It was Sunday and the train was very close to being full (I probably could have traversed back through four more cars to find a less full car, but that seemed like a lot of effort carrying all of my suitcases and work bags, especially when I could see a few open seats. I bypassed the first row that had two seats, because it appeared that a woman was holding those seats for the standing man and small child. About four rows back from that, I spotted a nice aisle seat on a three-seat row, and stopped.
I’ll mention this, because I feel that it’s an interesting tidbit: I’m still in uniform. I am wearing a navy blue pencil skirt, hose, black leather high heels and a white dress shirt and my wings. I look like a flight attendant, because I *am* a flight attendant. People talk to me all the time on the train because they recognize either the uniform or the wings and want to chat with me about my life.
I addressed the man seated in the middle seat beside his daughter, “Do you mind if I sit here?” while I start to lower the handle on my suitcase in preparation for tossing it in the overhead rack. Side note: I know that I’m a relative anomaly, living in New York and still using manners (I tell the guys handing out fliers “No thank you, have a great day!” because I feel good about it, and people laugh at me), but I was raised in the South and what we do down there is ask politely before we sit down.
What does he do?
Instead of acknowledging my question or even looking at me, he shouts forward to the man standing by the door – the man who appeared to already have a seat waiting for him, I might add – “Hey Kurt. Did you want to sit here?”
I know my mouth didn’t drop open in shock, but my eyebrows certainly raised quite a bit. Really? Ignore the woman and offer the man a seat. I realize that equality and feminism have taken us a long way, but I have to say, this situation is bullshit.
Kurt shouts back that he’s fine where he is, so the gentleman (ahem, I use the term loosely) says “I guess you can sit here”.
I give him my stone face stare and say “No, don’t worry about it.” and move on about seven more rows and find a seat next to a round old woman who proceeds to talk into the phone the entire two hour trip. Not a huge deal, and I was grateful to have a place to sit down as my feet were killing me in the heels. If you’re wondering why I didn’t take them off, it’s because a) it’s a required part of the uniform unless we’re in flight, and b) because my legs look awesome in heels and I don’t like to half-ass a very sexy uniform.
I spent a good ten minutes fuming over the guy’s response, and via text from different male friends of different ages got a wide variety of replies about what they would do in the same situation.
In the same light, I should mention that on the subway just the other night I gave up MY seat on a crowded train to an older man who came on limping, using a cane. No one else was going to stand up (thank you, New York, for your fucking compassion, *sigh*), so I offered him my seat, which he took with a nod of thanks.
What frustrates me about this situation is that the guy was sitting next to his nine-year-old (I’m guesstimating) daughter. It’s not like I was asking him to GIVE UP his seat, I just want to sit in the quite obviously available seat beside him. I feel his response is just another nail in the coffin of chivalry-slash-manners and furthermore, will somehow ingrain in his daughter the notion that when she’s a grown woman, she shouldn’t expect considerate behaviour from men, either.
This is what makes me sad about our society. Should I have said something to this effect or was walking away the best response? Do you think he’ll rehash the situation in his head and maybe think differently next time?
Filed under 'spection, daily, soapbox, werkin', writing | Comments (2)barely motivated, but managed 892
I wish I wasn’t so easily swayed by prizes. 750 words a day seems so easy, but on brutal days like today, I just want to flip the bird to the rest of the world, take my happy ass to my grody hotel room in some god-awful city in the midwest (where I think I have family, but who – on a nine hour layover – I refuse to call) and sleep. Instead, desirous of both the accomplishment of writing 750 words for the sixth day in a row *and* a shiny html sticker, here I am, wasting perfectly good face-down-in-a-pillow time making sure I write my ‘morning pages’.
Also, there’s a wedding taking place in the same hotel, and I’m hoping that by the time I finish here I can con them into hooking me up with a piece of cake. I have a nice dress in my suitcase. I am not afraid to gatecrash.
Today was a ridiculous mixed bag of people. Four freaking legs, starting at 6:00 this morning. We had long sits in Atlanta twice. I ate my weight in pralines from the Savannah Candy Kitchen (those evil, delightful, amazing girls make the BEST!). There were well over 300 soldiers and airmen in transit, wandering around the airport, so Mario and I had a FANTASTIC time oogling boys. I have to say, I may not have been looking my best, but I sure did not lack for attention. My pencil skirt, messy bun and dirty librarian glasses were getting oogled right back.
At one point we were heading down the E concourse (to the last gate, of course), I saw a forest of BDU’s (are they just called Fatigues these days? I have no idea, but I think they’re cute) waiting to board a flight. Out of all of these brave young men, only a scant five or six had anyone there to see them off. I wanted to hug them all and say thank you. And a sobering thought crossed my mind: How many will make it back? So very, very sad that made me.
Before that flight, we had just done an Atlanta to New Orleans turn (there and back). The flight to New Orleans was pretty uneventful with only sixty passengers on the entire plane, but the return was quite…interesting. There were some cruise passengers who apparently had left their manners onboard the ship. Ridiculously rude and demanding. I mean, yes, I’ll get you a coke, that’s my job, but DAMN. Starting a sentence with “Give me” is unbelievably low class. “I’m gonna need” is right up there. I draw a paycheck, which means I’m not your fucking servant, so stick it where the sun don’t shine.
Then there was the redneck asshole who – of a half-full flight – was the only one who tried to demand another passenger move his suitcase. He pointed to it and said to the very kind gentleman from the Netherlands “You need to move that. I’m in row 35, I need to put my suitcase here.”
The Dutch gentleman said, with a very gaellic hand gesture, I’m in row 36.” I smiled, because the particular space said suitcase was occupying was exactly between both rows and therefore accessible to and by both. The first man looked at me with an expression of commanding disbelief and waved a hand.
Pasting a pleasant smile on my otherwise completely uninterested face (need I mention at the moment there were other overhead bins nearby that were empty, including the one across the aisle?), I approached. “Yes?” I asked. “I need to put my suitcase up and my bin is occupied”, he says.
“The overhead bins aren’t assigned, sir, just the seats. This bin,” I gesture at the one across the aisle, a complicated half a foot away, “is available”.
LOUD SIGH.
He slammed his suitcase into the bin I indicated and practically tossed himself into his seat, then flung his window shade open. Like a five year old. I smiled. I continued with my day. This is not a hard job, but some travelers are just DETERMINED to have a bad day. Like the non-revenue passenger (traveling on a buddy pass, the lowest rank of non-revenue passengers) who got on the flight from New Orleans to Atlanta and – without preamble – told us “You need to tell me if there is an open seat in First Class”.
Oh hell no. First of all, you’re going to get assigned a seat after all the flight attendants, spouses, retirees and children/dependants have been assigned a seat. Then, at the gate, they’ll assign you a seat – if there’s one open in First Class, you’ll get it. End of Story. And if there’s not one, you don’t get it. You don’t come on board and start making demands of people who are a) not in charge of seating and b) already tired from a long day. We tend to get our panties in a wad about that.
I got pissed at an old woman a couple of weeks ago when she got on the plane and I greeted her with a bright and cheerful “Good Morning!” and all I got was a crabby “I’m going to need some water, I need to take my medication”.
My only reply was: “Sure, if it’s your Happy Pills.”
Filed under 'spection, daily, werkin', world travellin', writing | Comments Off