The lodge where I slave tables in Alaska
My perpetual reality.
5:54 am. ugh.
When ze car is broken, one must rely on alternate forms of transpo. Thank jeebus for the light rail.
4 day starts tomorrow. cookies or peanuts, cookies or peanuts, cookies or peanuts, cookies or peanuts, cookies or peanuts, repeat.
What I tend to do on my days off. Major decompression is necessary after each trip.
Rhinelander, WI. Land of the Hodag. Just one of many exotic overnights! Who knew being a flight attendant was so incredibly glamorous!?
I’ve realized that I need to start documenting my experiences attending flights. I realize that my days are numbered, and there are too many characters and bizzaro experiences that will disappear into the oblivion that is my memory unless I start writing about them.
This three day trip started like any other. Typical Saab, many legs, 2 Rhinelander, WI overnights. Annoyingly enough it started with two turns to Waterloo, IA. Regardless of the fact that I’m trapped on the aircraft the whole time, there is something maddening about knowing you are flying to the same destination twice in a row.
During the first flight to Waterloo, it was established that a national boys’ wrestling tournament was taking place in the area and the flights were full of mini wrestlers and their proud parents. The passengers were all well-behaved, and let it be said that I have nothing against wrestlers. The second flight from Minneapolis to Waterloo was slightly more eventful. Seeing as I have already mentally checked out of my job, by the second turn I’m usually already disgusted and very ready to be done. The passengers board the plane, most of them wrestlers. As I’m shepherding people to their seats, a voice in the doorway grunts, “Hey you got any beer on this flight?” As I turn around I am face to face with a posse of fathers and their wrestling prodigies. ”Well sir, this is a 35 minute flight, but yes. There will be a beverage service.” He grunted, “We’ll take two Amstel Lights!”
Fantastic. FANtastic. They proceed to their seats. I attempt to get everyone settled so I can close the door on time. I walk through the aisle and am met with an indignant “2 beers!?”
AAAGH!!! “Sir, there is no pre-departure service on this aircraft!”
We push back from the gate, take off and proceed to climb to our cruising altitude. On the climb out my daydreaming is swiftly terminated by DING!!! Sure enough it’s a passenger call. The yahoos in back are holding up two fingers signifying their desire for two beers. Heat rises into my face and I mouth back, “I am not allowed to get out my seat yet!”
I get up, do my service, and make it to the last row. ”I’m sorry sir, I’m not allowed to get up until we’ve reached 10,000 ft. ” He proceeds to tell me that we were past 10,000 feet when they chimed me. I think to myself, fantastic! This man is not only a charming genius, he has an altimeter built into his *@%! They even had the nerve to ask me if I was staying in Waterloo that night. yuck yuck yuck. They were definitely missing a few chromosomes.
*stay tuned for day 2, adventures in hodag country*
