Flying by the Seat of My Pants: Flight Attendant Adventures on a Wing and a Prayer by Marsha Marks Read Free Book Online Page A

said. “Can you imagine how embarrassing it was? I mean, it took me about an hour to even get the stupid joke. It wasn’t something you use CPR on. It was, you know. He was just unconscious,
but
he was breathing.”
    “Sure,” I said. “We had never covered unconscious breathing of that type. It’s virtually unknown.”
    “That is my point exactly,” she said. Then she stood, turned, and placed her hand on the side of the galley wall. Striking a pose like something out of
Vanity Fair
, she said, “Honey, I wish you well with your typing project.”
    Before I could respond, she was gone down the aisle returning to her fans.

C HAPTER 20
     

     

Packing
     
    D uring my career as a flight attendant, I have never gotten the packing thing down pat. I am always packing and repacking, in a panic, before every trip. I always forget something and take too much of something. For example, I’ll pack five different hair products and forget an extra pair of shoes. Or I’ll have three pairs of casual jeans but have to wear my work sweater with them because I forgot a casual shirt.
    In recent years, we have not been allowed to bring as much luggage as we want. Now we bring one rolling bag and onesmall personal bag. We have to pack our uniforms and our change of shoes—we have concourse shoes and in-flight shoes.
    We pack our manual, which is huge—the size of a three-inch thick text book—and our demo equipment, which includes an oxygen mask and a demo seat belt. We need casual clothes for when we land, and entertainment for the hotel room, which for me, includes at least six books to read. For others it’s a CD player and CDs. I also bring my laptop computer to write the great American novel. Sometimes, I’ll bring a paper copy of a new manuscript. And I can’t forget my passport…and my airline ID…and my parking pass, credit cards, and cell phone.
    This year a family built a new home next door to ours, and unfortunately, its front door faces our driveway. Here is an example of what that family might see when I’m leaving on a trip: woman wearing flight attendant uniform—me—carries luggage to car, gets in car, starts it up, and puts it in reverse; slams on brakes, scurries back into house, and gets ID; runs back to car, starts it up again, and backs carefully out of driveway; slams on brakes, runs back into house, and grabs manual that was forgotten; drives down street, turns car around, and races back to house; slams on brakes, runs in, and retrieves cell phone; scurries back to car and dials cell phone to list self on later flight because now she is too late for scheduled flight.
    A psychotic packer is what they would see, and they probably think—like anyone would—that after twenty years as a flight attendant, I’d have this whole thing down to a science. But I don’t.

C HAPTER 21
     

     

Forgetting My Uniform
     
    O ne thing about being a flight attendant that is crucial: uniforms. The company (at least my company) pays for our uniforms. The company even pays to have them cleaned. So, our employer expects us to adhere to the rule of not showing up for work without them.
    Uniforms are to airlines what uniforms are to the military. The uniform is how people identify the brand and what branch of a large organization we work for. Hours of training are spent on the fact that we, as flight attendants, are on the front line ofbrand recognition. I mean, next to the paint schemes on our fleet of planes, our uniformed personnel are it. We don’t show up for work without our uniforms. Except…I did.
    May I just say something here in my favor? It was a short trip—an unusual trip. From Seattle to Los Angeles, and back, with the first leg of the trip a “deadhead.” This means that all I had to do was ride as a passenger to Los Angeles. And on a deadhead we can wear street clothes. Then I had a three-hour sit in Los Angeles before working the flight back home.
    I loved trips like this. Read a book on the