I'm used to people ignoring me during the safety demo, but when I look down the aisle and see ninety percent of the passengers passed out and drooling at 2pm on a Sunday, I know it's leaving Las Vegas.
Today I was assigned Airport Alert.
Also known as Airport Appreciation or Airport Arrest, it's when I get all dressed up with no where to go. Nowhere that is, except to sit for four hours in the crewroom just in case anyone calls out at the last minute, or an inbound crew misconnects.
The phone didn't ring once tonight, which was refreshingly different from when I had AA two weeks ago.
That night, only four days before the wedding, I was informed that duty was extended to six hours. In the distance I could hear already hear reserves arguing with scheduling.
Of course I didn't have to sit for 6 hours, because before long I was sent to London ( I fear I may have brought this on myself by casually joking with a scheduler that I had a snappy new passport cover).
When I tell this to non-flight attendants they always get that "wow, what a cool job you have" look. However, working to London is every reason I hate international rolled into one three-day extravganza that can cost more than it pays thanks to the weak dollar:
The sleep-deprived zombie state. Boredom for hours over the Atlantic. Petty seniority battles and inter-crew drama. Uncomforatable European beds and crappy coffee. Having to check bags and then wait in line at customs.
I'd been to London once last September, and I did get out and do the touristy thing (at least I think I did, the picutres evidenced this, though my mind was mush from exhaustion). This time however, we landed in a snowy mess that had sent Gatwick Airport into a total meltdown.
The trains stopped running and planes were grounded. I, who had just gotten back from San Diego the day before and not bothered to repack, had only a flimsy
skirt and flipflops. Additionally, the Olympic torch was being relayed through the city and protesters were doing their best to extinguish the flame. The games may go on, but all this certainly snuffed any desire I had to venture into London.As for the crew, to put it diplomatically, there was way too much "personality". While they were all fine individuals I'm sure, stuck in a slender metal tube for 7 hours and forced to work through the night, you can imagine that things might get unpleasant. Maybe if I have a quiet day sometime I'll relate one of those tales in all it's gorey detail, but I just don't have the time time now.
I thank God for Kim, the girl I shared a jumpseat with, because she quite posibley kept me sane on that trip.
Although it wasn't her first overseas trip, it was her first since getting her transfer to the base and she had a constant look of "what have I gotten myself into?"
She was a lot of fun to fly with. She taught me how to play gin and we laughed at how surreal it was to be to spend the day in the airport hotel crewroom playing blackjack for sugar packets with a 5 ft. Puerto Rican flight attendant who was was not gay and trying to prove it with stories of how wasted he used to get in college with his buddies.
So, I certainly can't complain about Airport Alert tonight.
I didn't have to go anywhere, and I got to watch "Dancing with the Stars".
Even better, about an hour before I was supposed to go home, Kim from the London adventure showed up to serve her time (she is still international based, but has put in her transfer back to domestic).
I was released at 10pm, but since I had no big plans for the evening, I just stayed and played cards with her until midnight, when she was released. It was quite enjoyable.
Chatting happily, we headed out to the employee shuttle buses and headed to our respective lots. As the bus began it's bumpy route, I recieved a text message from a good friend in Annapolis and began settting up plans for my upcoming days off. When I glanced up from my phone we were passing an entirely unfamilar sign for the Turnpike.
Turns out I had gotten on the wrong bus and now had to go all the way back to the terminal and restart my journey!
The mistake only cost me a half hour and I had already hung out at the airport for an extra two hours anyway. At 12:30 am there weren't too many people around for me to embarassed, so the bus driver just had a good laugh as I swapped out my suitcases. To be honest, with the all the buses looking identical and the crazy hours when I tend to ride, it's really suprising I haven't made this mistake before.
At least I remebered where I parked my car.
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