I would like to say that one of the perks of being a flight attendant is that there isn’t such a thing as a typical day. That might not be entirely true. Sure, each day we generally fly with a new crew, most of whom we’ve not met, or maybe we flew together, but spend half the flight trying to remember where it was. If I don’t remember by the time we part ways once we land, it hits me at 3am.
While there can be a run of trips that are mundane—board the plane, serve a few drinks, pass out a few peanuts, laugh with passengers, talk about soup recipes with Sarah on the jumpseat, who commutes to Houston from Spokane and spends half the flight talking about her grand kids. The other half is spent talking about her cats. These sorts of trips can go from one to the next, to where you don’t recall, was that seat duplication with the blue-haired lady yesterday or today? There’s a receipt in my pocket from Chicago. When was I in Chicago? How long have I been on this aircraft? Where am I?
And then there are the times that really make for a day you’ll long remember. Like the time I served dinner to Shirley MacClaine, one of my favorite actresses. Or the flight the guy said he wanted to knee me in the nuts. Or the day they brought 2 service animals on an empty airplane for press photos in the cockpit with pilot’s hats. One time I even worked a flight to Hong Kong with a very light load only to deadhome home in first class, and because the hotel was oversold, they put us in a swank hotel at the airport in a suite with a hot tub, free breakfast, drinks at happy hour with tasty appetizers, and everything in the minibar was completely gratis. When I checked out, I don’t think there was a single item left. To make things better, it was on my company anniversary.
...Or today.
It was one of those days I thought would be fairly generic; an easy Denver turn, commenting on passenger shirts, asking if they’re going home or away, making old guys laugh when they tell me they are with the woman in front of them, prompting me to ask if SHE knows that. I don’t know why old guys like to tell us that, but it happened two times just today.
We had questions. Why? A whole day taking seven flights? Those seats in back are not exactly thrones—my butt hurt just thinking about it. Are they crazy? But, more importantly, will the influencer make us internet famous? We agreed that it sounds like fun, if you’ve got the time and money...why not? Maybe not the whole day, but I can I go with them to San Francisco?
It was a 3,900 mile trip starting at 6AM Eastern and ending at 1030PM Pacific...or 19 hours. Oh, but were they fun, with matching lanyards and racing bibs. Their enthusiasm was as if it was their first flight of the day. Service agents lined the jetbridge with signs and cheered them on. We made special announcements and received crew gift bags. A few wanted pictures in the cockpit with the pilots. As if planned, but not, the first officer was a dead ringer for late night comedian Conan O’Brien, complete with a swirl of red hair dangling across his forehead.
I was working first class, so enthusiastically informed that we’d take special care of them. My goal: this segment of their marathon would be the most memorable. One woman was celebrating a birthday, so I wrote a card for her. She said she had gotten cards from a few other crews. I replied that none were as caring as this one. Really, THIS card means something.
One of the things I like to do to make an impression in first class is presenting the hot towel service with a white coffee mug of dry ice in water, making a wave of smoke to drift across the tray and off the edge. Some passengers are mesmerized. Others hardly take note. But if I can do one little thing to really up the flying experience...it’s how I roll after nearly dying a few years ago. But catering messed up and not only did we not have hot towels, they boarded an economy bar cart that, instead of having bottles of red, white, and sparkling wine, had individual cans. And I really wanted to wow these guys with the best flight of their day. Drats.
At one point during
the flight, a woman walked up from economy. She was a Global Services
passenger,’ (our very top-tier passenger program, which is by
invitation only). As a retiree of the airline, she had a few
questions and was super friendly. Her husband is the head pilot for
their union and has a seat on the board of directors, which gives him the high
status. He soon came up as well and the three of us engaged in a very
interesting conversation about how we love our aviation career.
There was another GS passenger in row two who stopped me with a pen and paper in hand to ask my name. “Are you the only Scott?” she asked. “I sure hope so,” I replied, making her laugh. She showered me with so many compliments I was searching for a towel to dry off. The best way to make our day is a letter to the airline of the good service you received.
I was having so much fun working first class while the purser was slaving in economy (all those high-yield passengers get free food and drinks, slowing down the service), and that’s why I prefer longer flights. When surrounded by so many wonderful people, I love the chance to mingle and chat.
We kept the aircraft returning to Houston, a real treat from having to change planes. Our load home was lighter as opposed to the one to Denver, which was 100% full. In first class was a woman in her 80s who started to get up with the aid of her 60-something son. The seatbelt sign was on and the ride was quite bumpy. I asked if she couldn’t wait a little bit because I was concerned for her welfare. She said she could with a smile.
When things smoothed out and the sign came off, I asked if she was ready to give it a try. But this time her son stayed in his seat, so it was all me holding onto her as she slow-stepped from row one to the lavatory, complaining of the pain in her right leg. I sympathized with the pain in my right hip from my auto accident last summer.
I was aglow as the four of us that worked the two flights walked to the employee bus together, chatting about how fun our day was. It could have been just another day, serving drinks and charming senior ladies at 36,000 feet. Even our worst days are better than most people’s best days. But the fun group of 7-hub marathoners was certainly a far cry from the norm.
No two days are alike when you’re a flight attendant. I knew it was going to be a great day when seeing a bag tag that read, “My second favorite F-word is Flying.” Fondue being the first, perhaps?
Here’s the exact 7-Hub Run itinerary:
6:00–7:19 a.m.: EWR-IAD, UA 1366
8:25–9:38 a.m.: IAD-ORD,
UA 2440
10:35 a.m.–1:29 p.m.: ORD-IAH, UA 2483
2:50–4:40
p.m.: IAH-DEN, UA 241
5:59–7:45 p.m.: DEN-SFO, UA
1007
9:00–10:32 p.m.: SFO-LAX, UA 2409
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Nice to run in to you yesterday! I tried to post the pic, we took, but it is not letting me 😩
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