More Confessions of a Hostie (13 page)

I'm not sure I agree with Damien's advice. A few moments later, I poke my head around the corner and notice that the two back-row seats are empty. I also notice that the toilet is engaged.

Helen waves at me to catch my attention and then flashes me a broad smile. She then points to the toilet, into which the couple have obviously gone. She is still finding the whole thing amusing. I have told Helen about my friend Mary Gomez and some mile-high stories. Now Helen will have a story of her own to tell.

There have been times when a couple has emerged from a toilet only to be greeted by the crew giving them a glass of champagne. This won't be happening today because we are just too tired and too traumatised to care either way.

The now restrained and sedated woman may have several passengers sympathising with her situation, but surely not the crew. She may well have a medical condition, but if that is the case, then don't drink. Not only did the crew have to deal with the immediate danger and trauma of the drama, but have to keep monitoring her and keep liaising with the captain to help pass on information to the ground-staff and security when we land. There are also reams of paperwork to be finished and witness forms to be filled.

When instances like this occur on an aircraft, one of the worst repercussions that can happen, from a passenger's point of view, is that the rest of those passengers get neglected. We need to put so much of our resources and time into dealing with the incident that the other passengers get no service. One person's actions have created so much disruption to everyone, and this is really not fair to the other passengers. They paid the same amount for their tickets as this woman. They deserve the same amount of attention as this woman.

There are dozens of call-lights turned on in the cabin, and have remained so for some time now. Most passengers understand that the crew members have been dealing with this rather dramatic incident; if they aren't aware, we are apologetic and explain briefly the reason it has taken us so long to get to them. Fortunately most of the call-lights are for drinks. Had there been a medical emergency or something other serious crisis, then things might have gone completely awry.

I am feeling physically and emotionally run down, have not had the opportunity for a break and, although my best friend is onboard, all I can think about is getting off this flight.

some people go one way, some go another

The restrained woman has been relatively quiet throughout the remainder of the flight. Although she is still spaced-out, she is finally becoming aware of the gravity of the situation. The couple seated opposite Helen has finished their mile-high shenanigans and are now behaving like regular passengers. Helen thinks they might have just had the perfect flight: lunch, a few drinks, entertainment (both on their screen and in the cabin), more drinks, sex and then sleep.

On landing, as I will be kept behind on the aircraft, dealing with the ramifications of the poltergeist incident, I arrange to meet Helen outside the terminal. Helen will have time to buy some duty free. She does not need any encouragement to shop some more.

When I finally get to leave the aircraft, I catch up with Helen as arranged and see that she has indeed done some serious shopping. Her husband is going to have a photo of me stuck over the bull's-eye on his dartboard.

Helen pulls me aside; she cannot wait to tell me something. She looks around to make sure no one is listening, and I'm already getting incredibly curious.

‘You know that couple sitting opposite me, the mile-high couple? Well, when they went through customs, they went their separate ways. He was met by his wife, and she was met by her husband.'

Helen is immediately taken over by hysterical fits of laughter. She cannot believe that two people who are married to other people could meet on an aircraft, have sex and then casually walk off to meet their respective partners and act is if nothing had happened.

Well, they do say that a clear conscious is often a sure sign of a bad memory.

I often have the case of a bad memory too. For instance, I have almost forgotten that I have emergency exams in only three days' time. I am so pleased I studied on my last trip because I know my ability to concentrate henceforth will be minimal at best.

Helen is almost as exhausted as me, but she is still on cloud nine. She can't wait to tell her husband all about her adventures. I just hope he doesn't see all of her retail purchases and blame me.

My photo may end up covering his entire dartboard.

I typically sleep for the mandatory four hours when I am tired and jetlagged, but his time I sleep for ten hours. I usually catch up with Helen after each trip, but when I phone her I am transferred straight to voicemail. I later find out that she slept longer than I did. I also find out that my photo did not end up on her husband's dartboard – at least for now.

Mary Gomez has left several messages for me. Slight change of plans: instead of catching up with Helen, I am having coffee with Mary.

Normally I cannot handle seeing Mary right after a trip. The drama that habitually engulfs Mary's world is difficult to take in when you are feeling tired and jetlagged. Mary is desperate to see me, however, and I can't recall Mary ever refusing to meet me when I needed to talk to her.

I know Mary has been on holidays, but I am not sure where or what she has been up to. What I didn't know is she was forced to take these holidays by our company. She was also given the strongest possible advice to get some counselling or visit a rehab centre. She has been in rehab before, but unless our company drug tests her, and she fails, they cannot force her to go.

Over a round of lattes, Mary explains that she had an incident. I am not surprised: Mary always has incidents.

Mary had been in a layover port and had drunk far too much over lunch, gone back to the hotel, popped a sleeping tablet and slept through the numerous wake-up calls. She was awoken by hotel security and managed to make it downstairs, but was still a mess. If Mary says she was a mess, then she really must have been a mess.

The onboard manager had no choice but to take Mary off the trip. The ramifications of this are immense. The crew would have operated one crew member short. The company would have had to find her a hotel room and then organise for her to be a passenger while flying home the following day. Fortunately for Mary, she was not drug tested and she could blame the episode on a bad reaction to a new sleeping tablet she had taken – the truth is she has been on the same brand of sleeping tablet for over ten years. She managed to dodge another bullet, but she was urged to take leave immediately.

Mary had broken up with her on-now-off-now-on-now-off-again relationship with Mike Lawson. I saw Mike in the foyer of our hotel in Hong Kong on a trip I had taken a few weeks ago, and he had been with another woman – I could tell they were an item. I also knew his relationship with Mary was definitely over. This incident has probably intensified, or even caused, Mary's erratic behaviour. I am sure Mary knows Mike is dating not just another woman, but another flight attendant. Good gossip often travels faster than airplanes.

One of the reasons for Mary wanting to see me is to tell me she is coming back to work in five days' time. Also, she is on my next trip.

‘Oh my god, a whole trip with Mary. A whole long trip with Mary,' I am panicking on the inside. On the outside, I pretend that I am really excited to be doing a trip with her. Perhaps this latest incident with Lawson will calm Mary down? Perhaps she will be more responsible?

Who am I kidding? Mary is a lot of fun, but trouble and Mary are synonymous.

The last trip I did with Mary was probably two or three years ago. It was drama, drama, drama. We went out dancing one night, and Mary was wasted of course. She left her handbag on the floor and went dancing with a stranger. When she returned, her handbag was gone. Like most hosties she probably has dozens of handbags and replacing a copy Prada bag was not the issue. Mary had her purse in that bag, which contained her credit cards, all her money, her driver's license and her work ID. A hostie losing his or her airline ID when overseas is akin to losing one's passport and driver's license in one go – it is a hassle of the highest order.

Why Mary would carry her ID around with her defies logic. But then most things that Mary does defy logic.

I have two purses – one for overseas and one for home. I never take my airline ID or passport away from the hotel. They go in a safe. I do, however, carry around a photocopy of each in my overseas purse, along with back-up credit cards. If I am robbed or lose the purse, then it is not the end of the world. I know that in some countries, you are supposed to have some form of proper ID on you at all times. I have a number of other forms of ID, most compliments of Khao San Road, an area in Bangkok famous for making IDs. The photos and the signatures are real, however that's all that is real about these IDs.

The crazy thing was that Mary had all these IDs with her as well – but she had kept it all in the one purse.

I had to then help Mary cancel the credit cards and jump through hoops to obtain a temporary airline ID – and when I say ‘help' I really mean ‘did'. The trip turned into a disaster because of Mary's carelessness and incompetence.

We have had some fantastic trips over the years. Yes, there have been some testing moments, but Mary can be a lot of fun if she can manage to stay out of trouble. For all of Mary's faults, her smile and enthusiasm are infectious. And for every low with her, there is also a high. I just hope there are more highs than lows on our forthcoming trip.

Mary loves to talk. I am quite a good listener. From Mary's point of view, this is an arrangement made in heaven.

As I will be spending a multitude of days with Mary, I am careful not to overdose on every problem in her life in one go right now, so I explain to Mary that I need to go home to study. She understands the importance of the emergency exams better than most, especially because Mary has failed those exams on a number of occasions.

Compared to Mary, I am Miss Responsibility. I love my job, and I won't jeopardise it in any way by being foolish. I study, I pass.

To fail an exam is serious stuff. I am not sure how many times Mary has gone down that stressful path, but I am guessing it has been many times. She has managed to just scrape through each time though and has somehow managed to keep her job.

I have actually done enough studying. My plan is to spend the night before the exams brushing up, but I am not studying today. I told Mary a white lie, but I have so much to do and Mary's problems can wait until after my exams.

Helen finally wakes up and phones me only moments after I say goodbye to Mary. Helen is tired to the point of being completely shattered.

‘Welcome to my world,' I tell her.

We decide to catch up for coffee and a chat tomorrow.

I am seeing Dean tonight. After our last disaster of a date, I am keen to make amends. Although I am not feeling completely OK (and I rarely do) I have promised to make him dinner. I joked that I am probably banned from the café we usually frequent, so we may be safer in the confines of my apartment. I don't get to cook very often, but when I do, I love it. I eat more restaurant and café meals than anyone I know, outside of other hosties that is. Even when I am at home, I tend to eat out a lot, either for social reasons or convenience. If international flight attendants know a fair amount about travel, then we know even more about food.

For someone who has spent such little time in the kitchen, I am actually a pretty good cook. Dean certainly thinks so, and we are both looking forward to a nice quiet dinner over a few glasses of wine. Sometimes, the simplest of times can be the best of times.

Shopping for groceries is not quite as fun as shopping for clothes and shoes at Ala Moana, but it is still technically shopping. And if it's shopping, then I like it.

When I tell Helen that I enjoy shopping at the supermarket, she is surprised. Grocery shopping for her is a chore. I don't do it all that often, so it is still fun for me. Much of my daily-use items, like toiletries, I buy overseas. I generally have more time on my hands when I am away than I do at home, so it is often easier and cheaper to buy soaps, shampoos and such when I am on trips. I do know some flight attendants who never buy basic toiletries. Their bathrooms are stocked with the shampoos, conditioners and moisturisers they have taken from hotels they've stayed in, the hotels' names emblazed on the bottles. I am not one of those hosties.

talk may be cheap, but some people are cheaper

Some flight attendants are incredibly stingy. Not all, but some.

A few years ago, another flight attendant and I were walking through the security area before entering the terminal. At that time there were restrictions on carrying liquids and gels on the aircraft. You were allowed to take small amounts, but they needed to be placed in a clear sealable bag and subsequently x-rayed. We were supplied with those small plastic bags, and the flight attendant accompanying me proceeded to take not just a handful but an armful of these bags. When I asked why, he said he uses the bags to store food in his fridge and freezer.

I said, ‘You do know that you can buy a box of 100 of those bags at the supermarket for the price of a candy bar?'

It is fools like that who give everybody a bad name.

A captain on another airline was popularly known by the nickname of ‘Tony-To-Go'. He would ask the cabin crew for unopened cans of Coca-Cola. He would not drink them, but take them home with him. This was apparently a daily ritual. As he flew domestically, he would regularly stay in the same cities and hotels. One of those hotels contacted the airline to inform them that the captain was to no longer stay at their hotel and this was the reason: when Tony-To-Go stayed in this hotel (and probably others) he would remove the expensive long-life bulbs in the hotel room's lamps and replace them with cheap generic light bulbs he had brought along. This happened often enough that the hotel was able to observe each instance of such behaviour and also document it.