Galley Gossip: Sandvich Girl

by Heather Poole on

I’ve been called many things in my life – good and bad (mostly good) – but the other day I was called something that made me stop dead in my scuffed up Mary Janes on the nappy blue carpet, something that made me, for a split second, take a step back and wonder, what the heck have I done with my life? And then I quickly shook myself out of it, because my life, to put it quite simply, is pretty darn great, and so I continued down the aisle.

What was it that actually made me examine my life at 35,000 feet? It wasn’t much. Just two little words. That’s it. But they were two oh so innocent, yet very shocking, little words.

I mean there I was, rolling down the aisle behind the snack cart. It was a nice day. My crew was good and the passengers were great. What more could a flight attendant ask for? I think we were probably somewhere over Illinois when I asked, over and over and over, “Would you care to purchase a snack?” That’s when I heard a scratchy voice located somewhere not too far behind me say something I could not believe.

“Sandvich girl! Oh sandvich girl!”

At first I laughed, and then I turned around. That’s when I realized it was me that the petite frail one wearing black wrap around glasses had called sandvich girl. ME! I was sandvich girl. Dear god, I remember thinking, how did this happen? As I handed the woman a turkey and cheese sandwich and collected a five dollar bill.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, and quickly moved the cart.

Like most flight attendants, I have a college degree. I’ve done the whole nine to five thing. Guess what, I really did not enjoy waking up every morning at the same time and going to the same job where I worked with the same people every single day. Oh no, that was just not for me. Even though I had the kind of job many people would kill for: I designed clothes. (Okay, so they were western clothes, so what! They were clothes nonetheless, and I designed them.) Then I designed watches for a well known watch company. I probably designed a watch you even wore. (Thirteen years ago.) The jobs were great, but I had this strange feeling that something was missing in my life, and that something wasn’t a new car or a new outfit or whatever the money I made could purchase. It was something more. What, I did not know. Not at the time. So I got up at eight in the morning each and every day, jumped into the Ford Probe, drove fifteen minutes to the building where I sat at the same cubicle and worked on, basically, the same thing, until I ate lunch at the same places with the same people, and so on, until it was time to go home. I did this until one fateful day, and that was the day I did not receive the raise I thought I deserved. Of course at the time it felt like the worst thing in the world. Little did I know that not getting that raise turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. What did I do? I quit. And then a few days later I answered an ad in the newspaper. A no frills airline was looking for flight attendants. Why not, I remember thinking.

“I’ll do it for a few months, just for fun, until I find another job,” I remember telling my friends .

At the time I was determined not to jump into just any job. I wanted to take my time and find a good job. One that paid well. And while I went on several interviews looking for that perfect job, I served blueberry muffins and chocolate chip cookies back and forth between Ft Lauderdale, Newark, Long Beach, and Dallas for just $99 a flight at night. Life was good.

Well one month turned into two, and two turned into three, and after I realized I wasn’t going anywhere, that this was it, I applied to another airline, a major carrier, where before I knew it one year had somehow turned into thirteen. And I still love the job. Actually, what I love, is the lifestyle. The flexibility. The freedom. The excitement of not knowing what the day will bring. And leaving that day behind when I step off the airplane. I love knowing I can go anywhere anytime as long as there’s an airport nearby. Believe it or not, I even like wearing the flammable polyester navy blue uniform. (Please don’t tell anyone.) Oh sure, I wish things were different in the airline industry. Who doesn’t? I mean who doesn’t wish things were just better in the world in general? Hey, that’s life. And my life, I have to say, is good, real good. Even if I am sandvich girl.

Galley Gossip: Flight Attendant Pet Peeve #1: Answer please!

by Heather Poole on

I’m working the very last leg of a three day, three-leg-a-day, trip.

Still with me? Good.

I’m rolling down the aisle behind a 150 pound cart loaded with ice, soda, beer, liquor, and snacks for sale, along with inserts on top filled with cups, napkins, juice, water, and a couple of hot pots of coffee and tea. Nine times out of ten, I’ll probably reach your row and ask the question of the day: “Would you care for something to drink?”

And three times out of five the response will be, “Wha?” And that’s a wha without the T.

Normally when faced with this type of situation, I force a smile, grab a napkin, and wave it while eyeing the tray table locked in the closed position in front of you. “Something to drink?” I’ll ask again, and while I ask this question I find myself wondering why you haven’t taken off the Ipod or those giant Bose noise cancellation headsets covering your ears when you see me standing at your row.

“Wha?” you ask again, scrunching your eyebrows together, because, for some reason, you’re not understanding what I’m saying, even though I’ve been standing behind a beverage cart for the last fifteen minutes slowly inching my way towards you.

I try again, “Drink, something to drink?” now playing a game of charades as I put a pretend cup to my lips and tilt my head back, repeating the word, “Drink? Drink?”

Finally the headset comes off, you smile, and I actually hear, “I’m sorry what?”

This is not a Saturday Night Live parody. This is a real life conversation that happens more often than not on flights each and every day. It happens over and over and over. In fact, it happens so often that I can no longer bring myself to ask the question – again. So I just hand you a can of Coke with a cup of ice and move the cart to the next row. I’m sorry, but three strikes you’re out! Other people are waiting.

Lately flight attendants have gotten a bad rap. Trust me, I’ve heard the horror stories. And I know they’re out there, the bad flight attendant, because I, too, have had to work with a few of those flight attendants. It’s not fun for either of us. But keep in mind there are also good flight attendants out there who really do enjoy their job. Like me. But even I get annoyed and a little short when I encounter a passenger like the one above. Remember I have now asked the question, “would you care for something to drink?” which has been shortened to “something to drink?” and shortened again to just “drink!” AT LEAST 960 times in the last three days. And that doesn’t count the number of times I’ve been ignored, causing me to ask the same person the same question three times in a row. It’s the kind of thing that could make a flight attendant go a little crazy. Or maybe a lot crazy. So crazy she may actually rip a piece of paper off the cart, grab a strip of tape, scribble a barely legible note, tape it to her airline ID and wear the thing around her neck as she rolls down the aisle behind the heavy cart.

“Something to drink?”

“Wha?”

I grab the ID around my neck, the one with the scribbled note that reads, Drink? Please answer! and hold it up with a smile.

The passenger nods, and asks, “What do ya have?”

I take a deep breath. “Coke. Diet Coke. Pepsi. Diet Pepsi. Sprite. Diet Sprite. Dr. Pepper. Diet Dr. Pepper. Ginger Ale. Diet Ginger Ale. Club Soda. Apple Juice. Cranapple Juice. Orange Juice. Tomato Juice. Grapefruit Juice. Coffee. Tea. Water. Tonic Water.”

“Umm…I’ll take a Coke.”

Still with me?

Good.

Five tips for visiting developing countries

by Aaron Hotfelder on

The brilliant economist Tyler Cowen, who was recently interviewed by Gadling, and Chris Blattman, a blogger and global development researcher, recently offered some bits of advice for anyone planning to visit a developing country. Here, in no particular order, are five of their best tips:

1. Eat the street food. Though some travelers worry that street vendors don’t maintain the health standards of your typical restaurant (whatever those are), street food is usually some of the freshest and cleanest around. Just use common sense and eat where the locals eat.

2. Ask people about the best local restaurants, writes Blattman. “In many places, the most authentic restaurant meal is lunch, mainly for workers. People will eat at home for dinner, where the best food is always found. If someone invites you home for dinner, go! ”

3. Do not get drunk or patronize prostitutes. Engaging in either is asking for trouble, especially if you’re unfamiliar with your surroundings. Tyler says, “If you want to do it, save it for a more familiar environment.” Note that drinking with locals is often a great way to learn about them and their country. But there’s a fine line…

4. Dress like everyone else, even if you still stick out. Blattman’s advice: “If locals wear long pants/skirts, tuck in their shirts, and spurn sneakers, then think about doing the same (especially if you’re working).” I’m looking at you, Andrew Zimmern!

5. Be careful with your health, but don’t get carried away. Get the required shots well before you go and ask your doctor what you need to watch out for, but don’t be intimidated by all the death and disease that supposedly lurks behind every corner of your destination. Listening to the nurse describe the various dangers involved in visiting Ecuador, the novelist Benjamin Kunkel once wrote, she “made it seem amazing that anyone who went there didn’t pitch off a cliff in a bus while reeling from dengue fever and nibbling at some piece of hepatitis-soaked fruit as a scorpion crawled up his shorts.”

Check out more tips for development researchers from Chris Blattman and some general travel tips from Tyler Cowen.

Sex and the City: You can catch up with a craze in the modern age

by Jamie Rhein on

Sex and the City was the hot topic the summer between our two years living in Taiwan and our two years in India. I saw it once at a friend’s house when I stopped over in Albuquerque for a few days visit. I liked it, but nothing I couldn’t live without. I was jet-lagged anyway. Two years later, I saw one more episode. Friends we were visiting in Pochetello, Idaho had TiVoed it—something else that was new phenomenon in the U.S. cultural scene.

Five years after that, there I was last night with two of my women friends at the opening night Sex and the City event at Drexel East, one of the independent movie theaters in Columbus, Ohio. One friend was wearing a black dress. Since living overseas has made me totally out of tune with what to wear on many occasions, and I don’t travel in glamorous circles very often, I wasn’t paying attention to my attire. Plus, this was a back to back event–the first event was the end-of -the-year potluck at my son’s elementary school. With ten minutes in between the two, I had on a very nice T-shirt, black jeans and a pair of new shoes that fit into casual nice. Ooops.

I was all caught up with the Sex and the City storyline, however, thanks to videos and cable television. It used to be that living overseas meant huge chunks of popular culture were totally gone. It wasn’t a terrible loss, but there were movies I hadn’t seen, or events that happened in celebrity-ville that I wasn’t privy too. There were some conversations at parties I couldn’t join in. No loss really, but it was clear who had been living a life out of the American mainstream.

These days, it is not hard to stay caught up, or to catch up, even though people started miles before. When we lived in New Delhi, we rented Season 1, 2 and 3 of The Sopranos, and with each new season rented those too. Although, we weren’t where everyone else was who saw the series as it was unfolding, with the speed of being able to watch back to back episodes in a row at one sitting, it didn’t take long for us to be in the know of the latest whack job.

It is true that watching the TBS rerun version of Sex in the City is not the same as the HBO version, and at times it’s hard to keep the episodes in order as to what events happened first when one doesn’t start watching at the beginning, but last night I was caught up. It has taken five years, but I do know when it comes to Sex and the City what everyone is talking about, and I finally found out what a Cosmos is. As part of the event you could buy one.

Because I lived overseas during the Cosmos craze, I had a beer instead. It’s summer and I was hot. And, yes, I did like the movie. I think Manohla Dargis’s review in the New York Times is off the mark, although, I usually agree with this particular film critic.

Gadling TAKE FIVE: Week of May 24–May 30

by Jamie Rhein on

Although, finding deals are still on our minds (poor Iva in Moscow is having little luck), food and drink has been one topic of interest this week.

  • Iva, for example, has found some solace in the vodka. She’s discovered loads of it, and all brands are not the same.
  • Aaron has clued us into saying good-bye to free peanuts–even though they cost peanuts– and has told us where the best places to drink in 2008 are located.
  • Tynan was wined and dined at the Lalu Hotel in Taiwan and found out that while staying in luxury you can eat vegan.
  • Kent shared the advantages of a two-day trip to San Juan, one being eating Mexican food overlooking the ocean, Must be tough.
  • But, if you want to know what it’s like to work on an organic farm, ask Jerry. He has first-hand experience. It sounds tough. Check out part two tomorrow.
  • I’m the one, though, who knows all about White Castle hamburgers, and I’m proud of it.

Have a great last half a weekend in May. Sunday is June 1. Hope you find something yummy.