After 9/11, we started offering heavily discounted rates and began attracting unsavory characters. I remember working a flight from Little Rock to Dallas when a man boarded carrying his belongings in a black trash bag. Surely, his bag broke at the airport and that was his only option, I thought.
Sadly, when I tactfully asked him about the trash bag, he said, “Nope. This is my luggage.”
That was certainly a new one. I don’t think I am being mean when I say that if you can afford a plane ticket, you can at least afford a cheap bag.
The airline industry suffered as a whole when this new crop of passengers began invading our sacred element. No longer did people dress up and look to flying as an adventure to cherish. These new passengers were traveling on a Burger King budget with diva demands, and they started to piss me off. I was slowly but surely changing my happy-go-lucky ways due, in part, to
stories like the one I am about to tell you (that will probably leave you with your mouth hanging
At the beginning of this particular trip, I was in a great mood. I was in a relationship. I was healthy and happy. I woke up on the right side of the bed and all was well. Our first night, we overnighted in Las Vegas, and I had a blast hanging out with friends. The second night, I had plans in Los Angeles and was looking forward to another great overnight. And then, my last flight of the day happened. This flight was from Phoenix to Los Angeles. We had a good mix of business passengers and a few people like the ones I just described.
I was the lead flight attendant and offered my usual greetings to people as they boarded. “Hello! How are you?”
Sometimes we know right away when we’re going to have a problem passenger. It’s akin to when a cat’s hair stands up on its back; we just sense some shit is about
to occur. The problem on this particular flight was named Stephanie. Stephanie boarded my plane looking like a typical L.A. patron—all kinds of plastic (face and boobs), the standard Louis Vuitton luggage, and sporting an expensive, ginormous YSL bag, and Christian Louboutins. I was digging her because I can relate to fashion and I appreciate beauty. When you get right to it, I am not a hater. I am a congratulator. When I said hello to Stephanie, she just looked at me and turned back around. Okay, I thought, maybe she had on a hearing aid and I just had not noticed it. I said hello again, and this time Stephanie made a hand-swipe gesture as if I was the help. That pissed me off! Of course, Stephanie sat her pert ass in my section. Not sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing, I was determined that my interaction with her would be limited. After we did our demonstrations, because I was the lead flight attendant, I walked through the cabin to make sure everybody was in complianc and found Stephanie was still yakking away on her cell phone.
“Miss, I need you to turn off your cell phone, please,” I said to her.
Stephanie held up a finger and mouthed the words, “In a minute.”
I lifted a brow. “We’re on an active taxiway and your phone should have been turned off ten minutes ago. I need you to turn off your cell phone now or we can go back to the gate and you can get off this flight.”
Stephanie shot me a look that would have killed if I had been susceptible to that sort of thing. “Fine! I’ll turn it off.”
I walked away, and heard her say, “Bitch!”
Really, that’s how she wants to play this? Okay, sure, I thought.
During the beverage service, Stephanie ordered several drinks including a cranberry juice. I had to remind her on several occasions to remove her foot from the aisle so she didn’t trip someone. When I realized that was her exact intention, I did just that . . . I tripped right over her foot, carrying her cranberry juice on my tray. Hehehe.
drinks including a cranberry
juice. I had to remind her on several occasions to remove her foot from the aisle so she didn’t trip
someone. When I realized that was her exact intention, I did just that . . . I tripped right over her
foot, carrying her cranberry juice on my tray. Hehehe.
Stephanie shrieked. “Oh my God! You just spilled cranberry juice all over my white suit and it’s ruined! How could you be so careless?”
“Oh, Ma’am, I am so sorry!” I said, wearing a look of fake shock on my face. “I knew someone would trip over your foot in the aisle! Let me get you some paper towels.”
Stephanie looked at me with a knowing gleam in her eyes, realizing she’d picked the wrong flight attendant to mess with.
As I slowly walked away to get her some paper towels, I grinned as wide as a Cheshire cat.
It’s on, you mother*&^%ers.