Galley Gossip: Flight Attendants Walk off the Plane

by Heather Poole on

“Why in the world did you bid that!” I asked my mother, who is also a flight attendant (yeah, I know, it’s a bit of a freak show over here), when she told me about her nightmare trip from New York to Miami. “I haven’t worked that route in years.”

The New York to Miami flight is by far one of the worst trips to work if you’re a flight attendant, which is why, I imagine, when it comes to seniority, it tends to go a little junior.

“It looked good on paper,” my mother said, who is not all that junior, even though she is junior to me. And then she went on to tell me all about the irate passenger who freaked out when she, my mother, also a flight attendant, asked the passenger to put her very large purse (not that size matters) in the overhead bin, a purse that was lying on the floor in the bulkhead row, the same bulkhead row the flight attendant making the announcement kept referring to in her PA, the one that distinctly states carry-on items may not block aisles or exits and may not be placed on the floor at the first row of each cabin.

“You’ve got to stop working those flights!” I said, interrupting yet another story about another irate passenger. How many were there you ask? I lost count. I was too stressed out just listening to her talk to pay attention.

Really, I do not know what it is about that particular route that makes it so unenjoyable to work, but the New York – Miami crowd is tough, which is why I stopped working that flight as soon as I had enough seniority to hold something else, something better, something good, something flying west like San Diego, Seattle, Los Angeles, or San Francisco – simply put, something with a lot less drama. I take pride in being nice and polite to my passengers. I actually enjoy providing a good service. But that’s not always so easy to do from New York to Miami. Trust me, those flights can get ugly – very very ugly! And since I don’t do ugly, not anymore, it’s off to another destination for me.

Hey, just being honest here. That’s all

With that said, imagine how unsurprised I was to hear about the New York – Miami flight on Sunday night where the crew refused to work the flight due to the hostile environment. Apparently the crew was late to the gate. No where does it mention WHY the crew was late, but they could have been late for several reasons, like a late inbound flight they were working, or perhaps the original crew went illegal and this crew was called out at the last minute, who knows, but whatever the reason, they arrived on the scene over an hour late and passengers booed and things just got ugly.

Trust me, it takes a lot to make the crew walk off an airplane. I’ve never seen in it 13 years. Flight attendants, for the most part, are pleasers, which means they would never do anything that would put their job in jeopardy (like walking off a flight), so that hostile environment must have been pretty darn bad, much more hostile than you and I could ever imagine. And so they walked.

Of course I can’t help but wonder how far those flight attendants walked? Did they just walk off the airplane and go to flight operations or did they actually go all the way home? And more importantly, did they ever come back?

Honestly, if this were any other flight going to any other destination, I wouldn’t believe what I was reading either. But this was a New York – Miami flight, therefore I believe, I truly believe that things got so bad the flight attendants broke down and disappeared. Something tells me you might actually see those flight attendants still walking, walking in a daze down the side of the road, a rag tag bunch wearing navy blue polyester and pulling their Travelpros behind them. Poor things. So if you happen to see a worn out group of four or five dressed in blue, show the love and honk your horn!

BEEP BEEP!

And while you’re at it, go ahead and show the love to all of your flight attendants! And we’ll show the love right back. Happy travels to all and to all a good flight.

Galley Gossip: Snacks on the plane

by Heather Poole on

“Diet Coke,” says the passenger after I ask him what he’d like to drink. While I’m filling a plastic glass full of ice, he asks the question I hoped he wouldn’t ask, “Can I get a sandwich?”

“Oh…ummm…I’m sorry.” I make a face, the I’m-sorry face, because I am sorry. Really, I am. I’m sorry I have to say I’m sorry all day long. “We ran out,” I continue, and before I can tell him that we actually ran out of anything and everything edible on the airplane, he asks “What else do you have?”

I take a deep breath, because I really don’t want to tell this guy we have nothing, not one thing, so I make the face again, the I’m-sorry face, and decide to make light of the situation. “Diet Coke. Sprite. Diet Sprite. Pepsi. Diet Pepsi. Orange juice. Apple Juice.” He’s looking at me like I’m crazy, so I make the face again, oh you know the one, and say, “I’m sorry, but we ran out of everything. There’s no more food.”

“What do you mean there’s no more food!”

“We ran out of food,” I say again, as I oh so gently place a can of Diet Coke and a glass of ice on his tray table. What I don’t say is that we ran out of food hours ago, due to the fact the passengers were starving because of the hour and a half weather delay we took on the ground. What this passenger and I do not know, and will not know for another hour, is we’re going to have another hour and a half delay in flight because the airport in New York is closed due to more bad weather . “Sorry,” I say again, and I am, sorry I’m forced to say sorry all day long.

“This is ridiculous!”

I agree, it is ridiculus, but that’s the way it is.

Last week Iva Skoch wrote about Passengers Revolting on a flight out of Beijing that was canceled due to weather. Fifty-two pasengers refused to leave the aircraft, so they slept on the plane for over twelve hours. “The biggest irony,” Iva wrote, “And something I can’t see happening on America’s cash-strapped airlines, the flight attendants kept serving food and drinks to the protesters.”

Well there are two reasons you won’t see flight attendants in America serving drinks and food to “protesters” onboard a canceled flight throughout the night until the wee hours of the morning, when the airline is finally able to get people onboard another aircraft.

  1. No food. At least there’s not enough to serve to everybody onboard. Sorry. These days flights aren’t catered full. Why? Don’t ask me. I’m just the messenger. But I’m sure it has something to do with those silly fuel prices. But who wants to eat airplane food that’s been sitting on an airplane for hours anyway? We’re talking astronaut food, people! We’re talking there’s a reason the fruit in first class doesn’t turn brown by the end of the flight.
  2. No money. Flight attendants aren’t making a dime until the aircraft door has been shut and the airplane has backed away from the gate. Now keep in mind we’ve already worked the first hour of our day for free, which is by far the most chaotic part of flight – boarding. And you’re right, we did agree to work that first hour for free when we took the job, but there’s no way, no freakin way, we’ll work one hour more. Would you?

Which brings me to the point of this post (there is one, I promise) – snacks. I’m talking food. You should bring some the next time you travel. At least something. Anything! An apple, a cereal bar, instant oatmeal, whatever.

I know exactly what you’re thinking. Why should you have to bring your own food when you paid for a ticket? Because you paid for a seat. That’s it. And as soon as you realize that, the better your flying experience will be. I’m sorry (always sorry) but that’s the reality of the situation. Unfortunately traveling today is like a real life episode of Survivor. You never know what’s going to happen next and you never know when you’re going to eat again.

Oh I know it’s inconvenient to pack food. Trust me, I’m right there with you, carrying a white plastic grocery bag full of Jiffy peanut butter to-go, a brown banana, two slices of multi-grain bread, and an old package of instant oatmeal, as I undress my way through security and make my way through the terminal – Just in case! Forget the clothes, the books, the DVD – pack the food! Mechanicals, weather delays, and cancellations do happen, and they happen often.

Take my five hour flight yesterday that turned into seven and a half hours of starvation for the people onboard who didn’t bring food, or purchase food when they had the chance. Me, I had a chorizo and egg breakfast burrito from La Salsa at the San Diego airport early that morning and I was STILL starving by the end of that flight! I actually got down on my hands and knees and dug through a dirty first class cart looking for something, anything, to get me through the last hour. But there was nothing – not one thing to be had. Which is why most flight attendants I know always – ALWAYS – bring their own from home.

Oh hold on a sec, my cell is ringing… “Hello?”

“Flight Attendant Poole?” asks the stern voice on the other end.

Oh no. The company. What now? “Yes, this is flight attendant Poole.”

“Your flight to San Francisco tonight has been delayed.”

Galley Gossip: Stew Shoes (the search continues…)

by Heather Poole on

Ever wonder what flight attendants talk about in the galley behind closed curtains? Oh I bet you do. Most days you’d probably be sorry you asked. For real. It can get a little crazy back there. But recently I had a conversation on-board a flight that was tame enough to share, a conversation that I think all flight attendants at all airlines would be interested in hearing, and it started out something like this..

“I’m sorry,” said Diane, my fellow coworker, as she sat on the jumpseat and quickly looked over her shoulder into the dimly lit coach cabin to make sure no one was listening. No one was listening. No one was even there. All of our passengers were actually in their seats with their seat belts fastened. Most likely because we’d already finished the last beverage service of the night, the in-flight movie was just about over, and in less than an hour we’d be touching down in Los Angeles (And on our way to the layover hotel.) That’s when Diane leaned in close and half whispered, “But I just can’t bring myself to do it.”

“Oh my gosh, me neither!” I exclaimed, hopping off the jumpseat in order to grab a glass of water for a passenger who’d stumbled smack dab into the middle of our conversation. I smiled. He smiled. Diane smiled. We all smiled. And then he thanked me for the water and disappeared. Sitting down on the jumpseat closest to Diane, I added, “Don’t get me wrong, there are times when I wish I could do it, really I do, but I can’t. I just can’t do it. I don’t know why.”

We began giggling when the super cute one with the bleached blond hair dressed in navy blue polyester pants and a starched white button down shirt sauntered into the back galley with a full bag of trash in hand, because he had, in fact, actually done it. He’d done what Diane and I could not bring ourselves to do. Not in this lifetime. What the heck did he do? The Dansko clog of course!

In case you haven’t been on an airplane in the last ten years, the Dansko clog is to the flight attendant what the Tumi bag is to the frequent flier. Next time the beverage cart makes a stop at your row, go ahead, take a look, I bet they’re there. They’re everywhere! Just not on my feet.

What happened to be on my feet the night I found myself giggling away with Diane on the jumpseat in the back of coach on a 767 was a brand new pair of shoes that, after one six hour long flight, had turned out to be a huge mistake killing my feet. They needed to be replaced. And fast! So, once again, the search for the perfect flight attendant shoe began. It’s been ongoing for years. Thirteen years to be precise.

All I want is something cute enough to wear through the terminal and comfy enough to walk up and down the aisle, that’s it. But that, I have to say, as most flight attendants already know, is next to impossible to find. Oh I’m done with the whole high-heel-change-into-a-flat thing. Done carting around an extra pair of comfortable shoes in my already overstuffed tote bag that I have to change into as soon as we hit our cruising altitude . I mean all I want to do is put on a pair of shoes before I leave the house and be done with it. That’s it. I’m over it.

Which now brings me to three distinct types of flight attendant shoes (for women) I’ve encountered working the line over the years…

THE NEW HIRE HEEL. These clickity clackers can be seen from miles away, because they’ve probably been paired with a skirt that’s just a tad bit too short, as they strut through the airport terminal. Trust me, there is no freakin way these babies can work a flight, which is why they’re usually the opening act for the Dansko clog. Yes, this is the flight attendant fantasy shoe – for men. (And I’m not just talking about the men in drag.) Add another inch to this heel and these, to me, scream available! At least on the airplane they do, because in real life I…well…maybe, sort of, kind of, like them…kind of, maybe, sort of. Okay okay, so I actually own a pair (or two), so what! I only wear them hidden under a long jean. Not on the airplane. Nor in the terminal. Why? Because they say, “is there anything else I can get you, sir?” (Wink Wink). They belong to Cockpit Connie. Not you. Or do they belong to my flight attendant friend Steven? Or was it me! Jeez, I can’t remember.

THE OVER IT SHOE: Those of you who do not pick up trash at 35,000 feet for a living probably think this shoe belongs hidden behind the cart, or in the back of a closet, or at the bottom of a trash bin, and you’re probably right, but ever since our work days have gotten longer and our layovers have gotten shorter (layover, what layover?) this is the shoe for me. Remember, I’m over it, and because I’m so over it (the shoe, people, not the job!) I can’t even properly explain it. In fact, I don’t even know if it can be explained, whatever it is I’m trying to explain. Or perhaps I’ve just been flying too much.

THE SENIOR MAMA LOAFER: Can you say retire already so I can finally get a little seniority and fall off the reserve list before I’m 50. Seriously people! Believe it or not, the person who now wears these sensible comfy loafers once wore those sexy white patent leather go-go boots with a hot little mini skirt. She did. Really she did. And maybe, just maybe, he did, too. Hey, you never know. So when you see a pair of these tired looking loafers walking down the nasty carpeted aisle, remember where they’ve been. What they’ve seen. And all the things they’ve done. (That you haven’t. And never will.) And don’t forget to aways – ALWAYS – respect the loafer!

What will I be wearing on my next flight? Check out these babies from Beautiful Feel, which I purchased from The Walking Store earlier this week. No, they weren’t cheap, but if they can make my feet feel beautiful while I’m picking up trash at 35,000 feet, feeling oh so not beautiful, I’ll pay whatever it takes. And more.

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.

Plane Answers: “When did first class become the crew lounge?”

by Kent Wien on

Welcome to Gadling’s latest feature, Plane Answers, where our resident airline pilot, Kent Wien, answers your questions about everything from take off to touch down and beyond. Have a question of your own? Ask away!

Dennis asks:

As one who travels somewhat frequently for business and pleasure, I have taken notice recently of just how pervasive it has become for United Airlines (the carrier I usually fly) to seat airline employees dressed in full uniform (most probably dead heading to the next hub) in the First Class cabin, even though in many cases there are ample seats available in economy. Somehow I get a little offended by this. At the very least, wouldn’t it be a show of goodwill if space is indeed available to upgrade paying customers at the gate and let the crew sit in back? Is this a common practice amongst all airlines? What are your comments on this topic?

Thanks for the question, Dennis.

While I can’t speak for United Airlines, I can give a little background on this practice as it relates to my airline. Employees have negotiated improvements to their benefits as they relate to non-revenue travel and deadheading while at work.
For us, non-revenue coach travel is free for employees with at least five years of employment. If the employee would like to travel in first class, a fee is assessed. In either case, the employee is responsible for the taxes normally applied to airline tickets as well as a separate income tax on this benefit.

Deadheading employees are often used to fill gaps in coverage at other bases or if one of their legs of a trip has cancelled. These employees can put themselves on the upgrade list online or while at the gate.

In both of the above cases, crews are offered seats up front only after all first class revenue passengers and frequent flyer upgrade requests have been met. These seats would have otherwise gone unfilled. Pilots and flight attendant unions often negotiate these benefits, and airlines are willing to use them to attract new employees.

I discussed this policy with a gate agent today and she explained that some confusion occurs when passengers that request to use an upgrade voucher give up and decide to take their originally assigned coach seat during the boarding process. Usually the agents wait for no-show passengers before processing the upgrade requests, and if a passenger elects to take their seat in the back they’re unable to go on board and move that passenger up to first class.

Airlines are hesitant to upgrade coach passengers even with empty seats in first class probably because they don’t want remove any incentive for travelers to pay for that premium seat.

Employees have sacrificed their pay and work rules for the past seven years–often helping their airlines pull through some tough times. I hope you don’t fault them if they’re sitting in an otherwise unused first class seat every now and then.

On a somewhat related note, my Irish friend Ruthann provided me with a story that might just work for you if you’re out of upgrade vouchers:

Several years ago, a sales department (frequent travelling) co-worker of mine was passing through LAX on his way back to Ireland when he decided to try his chances with the AA desk clerk and charm her with his Irishy Irishness. He put on his best leipreachán accent and requested an upgrade to first class.

The lady seemed to flirt with him, and was very happy to upgrade the remainder of his trip to first class for free. It was love at first sight, at least for her. He promised her the world, being the funny, jokey charmer that he is. He came back and boasted to us all about the AA clerk he’d charmed into a free upgrade.

A few days later, he got a long distance call. She had kept his info and phoned him, just to see if he got to Ireland safely…

Several years later and they’re due to get married soon.

So there you go. But you might want to proceed with caution if you don’t have the requisite Irish Irishyness!