Confessions of a Hostie 3 Page 7

  Did Holly listen to what I said?

  Probably not. I think Helen knew Holly missed a fabulous opportunity to learn. My only comment to Helen was I thought Holly was a nice girl - and she was. I didn't tell Helen I doubted Holly would get the job; not at the moment anyway - but I could be wrong. I often am.

  Holly may mature, yet Helen admitted Holly lacked focus. If she is unsuccessful with her initial applications, I would doubt she would reapply. If she does get an interview and fails, I would also be surprised if she reapplied.

  According to my friend involved in the recruitment and training, the vast majority of hopefuls have applied for the first time - and it shows. It was his opinion that applicants who have applied before were not seen as failures. Applying multiple times was seen as a positive.

  'It shows persistence and passion' he said. 'It also is an advantage to know the interviewing procedures and expectations.'

  Wisdom will outshine knowledge every day.

  Some years ago I was approached by another young girl, a friend of a friend, also wanting advice to become a hostie. She had more focus than Holly, being certain becoming a globe-trotting trolley dolly would be the life for her. She was studying at university at the time. She was so intent on following her dream she contemplated leaving her studies to devote more time to applying to the airlines.

  'I think that would be a big mistake' I told her bluntly.

  She was a smart, motivated girl, but why throw away an education on the off-chance she gets an interview with an airline?

  Education is important - very important. I told her that most of the crew are well-educated, with many having degrees and diplomas. A university education will not hinder your chances of becoming a hostie, it will enhance it, I told her.

  You can always apply to the airlines and attend interviews, but at least you'll keep your options open.

  In her second year of study she attended an interview with a domestic airline. Domestic flying was not really what she wanted, yet she went to the interview anyway. She was unsuccessful, and as I understand it, she was unable to get an interview with any international carrier in the short term. She finished her university course, graduating to find a great job. She would have loved to get into the airlines, however it was not meant to be. She has since married and had children. Becoming a hostie is no longer on the agenda.

  I recently saw her. She loves to hear stories about my job, yet admits that if she had left her studies it would have been a huge mistake. She thanked me for the advice I gave those years ago. We both knew it was the right thing to do at the time.

  Airline crew are worldly; most well-educated, with additional qualifications, many continuing to study - often with interests outside the flying industry. Just because we are sometimes perceived as ditzy trolley dollies pouring tea and coffee all day, don't be fooled. In the past few months alone I have flown with a trained psychologist, a radiologist, an ex-policewoman, a number of former teachers and nurses, an architect, and even a former priest. Often flight attendants' past or current professions are not mentioned while on trips. I never make assumptions about crew. They constantly surprise me.

  Like most, I love music. I've met many crew with musical backgrounds, from a concert pianist to a guitarist in a former well-known rock band. One of the guys in my training class was a keyboard player in a moderately successful eighties band. He said nothing throughout training, but in later years revealed his love of music - and his past. We flew recently and I divulged that I saw one of the band's video-clips on You Tube.

  'Love the hair' I teased him, 'and what was going on with the pants?'

  'It was the eighties' he justified with a smile.

  One of my good friends was a lead singer in a cover-band for many years before flying. She continues to sing in various theatrical productions when time permits. I have even been known to belt out a tune or two (in the shower). I am not tone-deaf, however I could be accused of being tone-hard-of-hearing. I can tell you that as a singer I make a wonderful flight attendant.

  Cabin crew come from eclectic backgrounds. I've flown with an Olympic medalist, another a top fashion model, a guy who was once a world-ranked tennis pro, a former professional footballer, a radio D.J, and even a former acclaimed ballet dancer. These are just those I know about. Everyone has a story to tell.

  On a recent flight we had a male passenger who drank far too much; loudly demanding more. The manager, who just so happened to be a big burly man, told the man there would be no more alcohol served for the rest of the flight. The man became irate, irrational, and aggressive; looking up at the manager, seeing he was a broad-shouldered and apparently heterosexual, to comment something along the lines of: 'I thought all flight attendants were gay'.

  The manager was actually a former police Sargent. Standing beside him was the flight attendant who was the former professional footballer, being even beefier than the manager. This passenger picked the wrong crew to mess with on that day. I was within earshot, hearing the manager lay down the law in no uncertain terms. The passenger looked scared - and rightfully so.

  The man passed out to later wakeup yelling for more alcohol. I might add that we suspected he'd been drinking his own booze at some stage and although he had slept, he was still slurring his words.

  The manager again read him the riot act. When we landed, in Denpasar, Bali, he was very unsteady on his feet. Leaving the aircraft we saw the man taken away from the immigration queue to be questioned by the local officials. He remonstrated with airport customs officials. We went through customs and immigration, not learning of his final fate, but we knew it wouldn't be good for the man. We presumed he would be placed in a room to sober up and then put on the next flight back to his country of origin (at his expense). It is a hefty price to pay for getting drunk and not following instructions.

  Having two physically intimidating flight attendants onboard was a real bonus. Often the petite hosties need to deal with situations onboard. Sure we are trained, and most of us willing to put our bodies on the line should we have to, but having a former police Sargent and pro footballer amongst our ranks would be my preference every time.

  There is no such thing as a typical flight attendant. Several trips back I worked with the most amazing fellow; part Gypsy, part Jewish, and a whole lot of fun. I saw him in 'civilian' clothes. He was covered in tattoos, dressing like a European backpacker (now I am making generalizations as well - please forgive me), however you wouldn't meet a nicer guy - and he was wonderful onboard. The passengers loved him.

  I had some incredible conversations with him - and I cannot recall talking about anything to do with airplanes. What an interesting life he had led, holding equally thought-provoking opinions. I like talking to people who sees things a little differently to most. I could tell he was highly intelligent and one instance onboard proved me right:

  We had a young woman and man who met for the first time onboard. I could talk-up the story with notions of love and romance, but the reality was the potential lovebirds were drunk and looking to join the mile high club just for the hell of it. They'd taken their get-to-know-you routine to the exit row at the back of the plane. That is all well and good, however there were passengers trying to get to sleep, with the young couple extremely boisterous. My Gypsy-Jewish-fun guy-colleague already had an informal chat with the couple, asking to keep the noise down, but it obviously it fell on deaf ears. The young girl was getting drunker and leaning all over the door bussle and the crew seat at the exit row. Around this area are pieces of emergency equipment, including a crew phone.

  'Watch this' my colleague said as he poked his head from the galley. He could see the girl leaning next to the phone. With that he picked up the galley phone, ringing the phone at the exit row.

  Bing Bong.

  The young girl nearly wet her pants.

  My colleague raced down the back, telling her that where she was leaning has all sorts of emergency equipment and she must have 'bumped the phone
or something'.

  'I think you should go back to your respective seats for a while' was his advice.

  They left, not to return.

  There are many funny characters who fly. I will admit that we were able to get away with far more shenanigans in the past than the present, yet the characters still exist. I did a trip not long ago with a guy who had flown for almost 25 years, yet told everyone he used to work in a helium gas factory.

  He said 'The job was alright, but I hated being talked to in that tone of voice!'

  I laughed.

  Another older crew member was bending down to pick up a passenger's fallen headset from the floor when he lamented how stiff his back was. He told me (and the passenger) he was thinking of doing yoga. The yoga teacher asked if he was very flexible.

  'I'm free most Thursdays' was his reply.

  Most crew have a great sense of humor.

  Years ago I flew with a really senior guy who only did trips to tropical island locations like Hawaii, Tahiti, Seychelles, Fiji, etc. He only packed the smallest of bags, no matter how long the trip - and he always took ONE rubber flip-flop (also called a thong or a jandal). His rationale in taking just the one flip-flop was he would always find another one washed up on the beach somewhere. Rumor has it he did indeed find a flip-flop on every beach he visited. .

  Every time I see a single flip-flop on a beach (and I do regularly), I think of him and chuckle.

  a positive attitude

  I meet the crew for the flight to Jakarta, knowing some, but not all. The ones I know are lovely. I quickly establish that one of the girls I didn't know is one of those personalities who shouldn't really be in the job. Her name is Wendy. She is a few years younger than me, having flown about 16 years. I identify her temperament within a heartbeat. I am sometimes wrong with judging characters, but only sometimes.

  Wendy is to work down the back of the plane with me. In the earliest stages of meeting Wendy I struggle to see good in her. She lacks warmth, manners, and decorum. Not only do her facial expressions make me want to run for cover, every word from her mouth is either negative, derogatory, or downright mean:

  Are we there yet?

  I bet these passengers are going to be a pain.

  I've flown with the captain before; he's a real piece of work.

  I'm over this already.

  Seriously, are we there yet?

  These are sentences muttered before the passengers have even boarded the aircraft.

  Minutes into the flight she launches a tirade of insults on the airline, the service, the passengers, and the destination. I don't like listening to overly negative people; few do.

  An old saying goes: Misery loves company, but company doesn't love misery.

  I understand that everyone needs to vent at some stage, but Wendy is relentless - and most of it is unwarranted. I've made an early decision: I will stay as far away from her as possible on the aircraft. In the confined spaces of a plane that is easier said than done. I think the rest of the crew have made the same decision, however Wendy has no idea, being oblivious to our pain. She sneaks up from behind, backs you into a corner, and then unleashes a verbal barrage of pessimism.

  You can tell when someone is having a bad day for whatever reason, but I think Wendy has more than just a bad day going on. She is painful to the core - on a daily basis, I'd bet.

  When working with a negative person, like Wendy, I'll often be more upbeat - not to cover that person's gloom, but to prove a point.

  One of my favorite (and hopefully funniest) sayings is: I find that if you have a positive attitude it ticks off enough people to make it worth the effort.

  Every time I am near Wendy, I smile. When she whines and complains, it goes in one ear and out the other - instead I grin like a Cheshire cat. She doesn't know how to take me. My ruse seems to be working as she complains less to me as the flight goes on, preferring to irritate the other crew.

  'Sorry other crew.'

  I really like the rest of the crew, especially one of the girls, Julia. She has flown for just a few more years than me, but she is strong, independent, and takes no nonsense from anyone - not even Wendy. When Wendy starts complaining, being almost continuous, Julia just walks away. I have noticed, the rest of the crew has noticed, yet Wendy is oblivious.

  I try to talk with Julia in the galley, but it proves difficult. Wendy is a conversation killer. She listens to our discussions with the sole intent to interrupt or disrupt - and when she does, Julia walks away.

  The hardest thing about being in a skinny aluminum tube with a painful person like Wendy is: there is nowhere to escape. I look over my shoulder to make sure she is not around before starting what could be interesting dialogue with Julia or the other crew and, before you know it, Wendy is leaning over my shoulder.

  Most crew talk about the claustrophobic environment of working on a plane, usually referring to the physicality of the job. I find it far more intrusive when we are cornered emotionally.

  In Wendy's words: Are we there yet?

  When working in confined spaces for so many hours at a time, it is inevitable there will be some personality clashes. Fortunately the personalities like Wendy are the minority, but when someone is negative it often impacts on everyone else. One Wendy is bad enough, but I did a trip not long ago with three Wendys. Of course Wendy was not their real names, but for the sake of the story, Wendys it is. The truth be told, I tend to forget these type of characters as quickly as I can, so remembering their names is never a priority.

  All the 'Wendys' were working down the back of the plane with me. It had the makings of a perfect negativity-storm. The onboard manager had flown with the girls before, being smart enough to recognize there could be potential problems. He very carefully orchestrated for none of the Wendys to be working on a cart together. That meant one of the Wendys was working with me. The manager pulled me aside to apologize for changing the work positions. I knew why he did it - and he recognized I knew. I was fine with it all.

  Even though I was working on a cart with one of the Wendys, the work throughout the aircraft relies heavily on group teamwork. At the back of the plane we all interact regularly, particularly in the confines of the galley. This is where teamwork and spatial awareness are at a premium. Most passengers see the crew out in the cabin, usually in pairs, handing out meals and drinks from a cart, however the processes for getting everything ready are intricate. The galleys are tiny, so add setting up carts in or near the galley and it becomes a claustrophobic's nightmare. Crew are constantly getting out of each other's way or in each other's way; usually both.

  The Wendy I worked with was tolerable one-on-one, but putting her together with the other two Wendys became painful. They fed off each other's negativity. It was like a growing organism - the perfect storm was brewing.

  The manager did everything within his power to diffuse the ticking time bomb - with no success. Towards the end of the flight, when everyone was tired and fatigued, the predictable occurred - it all went pear-shaped.

  Another saying goes: No one describes themselves as much as they describe another.

  Each Wendy bitched about the other Wendys. Eventually the bitching went from nasty comments behind backs to nasty comments to their face. I stayed away from it all.

  It is very rare that I say anything in these instances, however I said 'Sort it all out yourselves; we've still another 13 hour flight to get through after this one.'

  To the Wendys' credit, they took my advice. The negativity did not cease, but at least the yelling did.

  The Wendy on today's flight is not likely to yell and scream (I hope), yet she has continued her pessimistic outbursts. Fortunately she has no one to feed off; no one to fuel the fire. The rest of the crew also ignore most of her comments. That doesn't seem to stop her though. How could she not know? She must have blinkers on.

  I'm trying my hardest to not let Wendy get under my skin. It is not easy. I take solace that in my job we work with so many differen
t people. I may not see this Wendy again for months, if not years, if not ever. Imagine working in an office job with someone like Wendy, day in, day out.

  I shudder at the thought.

  I survive my handful of hours with Wendy. If having to work with a Wendy every now and then is the worst of my troubles on a flight, then it is a good flight. Wendy aside, it was a good flight. We arrive in Jakarta on-time and reasonably fresh. It is early evening, local time. Julia is friends with several of the crew working at the front of the aircraft.

  When Wendy is not around, Julia whispers to me 'A few of us are having drinks by the pool when we get in. Would you like to join us? But keep it to yourself, we don't want a certain you-know-who to know. God, hearing her on the plane for the last seven hours is seven hours too long.'

  I know exactly what Julia is talking about, although I feel like a school kid being invited to one of the cool kid's parties and sworn to secrecy from telling the not-so-cool kids. Regardless, I don't want to hang out with Wendy socially either.

  'It sounds good, count me in' I whisper back.

  those who can laugh at themselves never cease to be amused

  I had drinks by the pool on my last trip. God knows how many times I've been poolside with a glass of wine during my flying career, however I can't recall ever regretting the decision.

  Like many of the hotel pools, particularly in Asia, this pool in our Jakarta hotel is magnificent.

  As I don't know the other crew well, I arrive poolside fashionably late. I am on-time or even early with most things, but a single girl turning up to an empty bar is not really a good look. There are occasions where this has happened, so I have gone back to my room for ten minutes before returning. Sometimes I've done this several times. Sometimes no one turns up.