Galley Gossip: Love on the Plane – plus enter to win More Than This by Margo Candela

Love on the plane, it happens. In fact, it happened to me. That’s where I met my husband, on a flight from New York to Los Angeles. I’m guessing we were somewhere over Illinois when I gave him my phone number. The interesting thing about it is he wasn’t even my type (not at all), which was good because my type, I soon realized, had a tendency to suck.

Love on an airplane. It happens. I don’t know why it doesn’t happen more often.

I mean where else but on an airplane (or at an airport) do you get such an interesting mix of people from all walks of life? Not to mention, you can tell a lot about a person by how they travel, particularly when it comes to how they treat the flight attendant. Don’t believe me? Next time you find yourself cramped in a middle seat, just watch the people around you.

I noticed my husband right away. What I liked about him was he didn’t flirt, but he was nice and very polite. Always he said please and thank you, and he looked me in the eye whenever he addressed me, which rarely seems to happen these days. The thing that stood out the most about the passenger who would soon become my husband, was a very tasty looking sandwich he had brought on-board from a deli in Manhattan. That said it all. It said he liked good food. It said he was a man with a plan. It said he knew how to take care of himself. When he noticed me drooling over his seat, he offered me a bite. I didn’t take the bite, but I knew right then and there he was the guy for me. Eight months later we were engaged. Six years later we have a two year-old son.

Love on the airplane. It happens. Has it happened to you?

Ever been at the airport, or on an airplane, when you spot that hot guy (or girl) at the exact same time he (or she) looks at you, and you swear you can actually feel your heart beating just as he (or she) is boarding a flight, deplaning the flight, or in the process of taking another flight, and you want to yell out WAIT! STOP! But you don’t. Because…well…normal people just don’t scream out in public places at strangers, even if that stranger makes your heart go thump thump thump. Yet later you find yourself wishing you’d actually done just that. And you wonder what would have happened if you had done just that – yelled those two little words that may have changed your life forever.
Chances are, if you’ve ever been in a situation like the one mentioned above, you’re going to love More Than This by Margo Candela. I know I did. Oh sure Margo is a friend, and one of the writers in my writing group, but this girl can write! Trust me. In fact, movie deals for this book should be rolling in any day now. I’ve already offered (okay fine, I demanded!) to play the role of the flight attendant when the movie comes out.
So tell me all about your experiences with love on the plane – whether it happened, almost happened, didn’t happen (but wish it had), or maybe it did happen and you really wish it hadn’t happened – and you’ll have a chance to win an autographed copy of More Than This, a story about missed connections, written by Margo Candela. The perfect read to pass your time on the next flight. We’ll draw a lucky winner by Friday, August 8, 2008
Good Luck!
  • To enter, simply leave a comment below telling us all about your experience finding love on an airplane.
  • The comment must be left before Friday, August 8, 2008 at 5pm Eastern time
  • You may enter only once.
  • One winner will be selected in a random drawing.
  • One Grand Prize Winner will receive a free, autographed copy of More Than This, by Margo Candela.
  • Open to legal residents of the 50 United States and the District of Columbia who are 18 and older.
  • Book is valued at $14.
  • Click here for complete Official Rules.

Galley Gossip: Airline Bashing, bringing the world together

“So what do you do for a living?” asks…oh…whoever it is asking that day, which on this day happened to be a client of my husband, a very important client with a very impressive job.

“I’m a flight attendant,” I say with a smile.

The two second pause, that’s usually the initial response from the person asking the question about my job. During this never ending pause, I always find myself holding my breath, because the pause is always followed by one of two responses, and nine times out of ten it’s not the good response.

  • The good response: Is full of excitement and ends with an exclamation mark. It goes something like this; “I’ve always wanted to be a flight attendant!” or “My sister is a flight attendant!” And always leads to a very nice conversation about travel, which then leads to other interesting topics related to travel.
  • The bad response: Always starts with the same four words, “On my last flight…” which is then followed by another pause, accompanied with a weird look, which of course leads to a very bad story about the last flight. Needless to say, the conversation usually doesn’t go so well after this. How can it? I’ve now been linked to the worst flight this person has ever had. No matter how well we’d just been getting along.

“Computers,” said a friend, and CEO of a well known watch company that I worked for thirteen years ago. “I always tell people I’m in computers and then they leave me alone. Try it.”

“Oh I hate telling people what I do for a living,” said Mark, a fellow coworker, as we stood in the first class galley of a New York to Los Angeles flight, a flight I wasn’t working. We were talking about the job, and what people tend to think of those of us who do the job, which is the main reason Mark hates talking about the job with those who work on the ground.

Flight attendants aren’t the only ones who dread talking about it. On a flight a few years back, when things weren’t nearly as bad as they are now in the aviation industry, a super 80 co-pilot once confessed, “I never wear my uniform outside the house. I don’t want my neighbors knowing what I do for a living. When I get to the airport I change clothes.”

“Really?” I asked the first officer who, at the time, seemed a little…well…weird. I mean this was a pilot – A PILOT! Something to be proud of.

Now, years later, I often think of that guy when I’m dressed in my uniform and not on the airplane, the guy who may not have been so weird after all. Perhaps somehow he knew something about the future of aviation we could not imagine back then when things were…well…good, even though back then we still didn’t think things were all that great.

Like most flight attendants, I miss the good old days, but I still love my job, even if I’m selling sandwiches down the aisle and constantly apologizing because we don’t have this and we don’t have that to a full flight of miserably cramped passengers. Otherwise I wouldn’t do it. I certainly don’t have to do it. Really, I don’t. I want to do it and I like doing it. Which is why I’m going to tell you something I told my husband five years ago while we were seated across a dimly lit table from each other on our second date. I won’t quit. Ever! Oh yeah, I’ll be one of the ones using the drink cart like a walker forty years from now. Why? Because I love my job, remember? So it’s a shame that talking about the job has become such a sore spot with so many people.

“You’re the new whipping girl,” said Margo Candela, one of my few friends who does not work at 35,000 feet for a living. She said that after I had told her how people usually react when I tell them I’m a flight attendant.

“Whipping girl?” I repeated, because this was news to me. I’d never been called that before. In fact, I’ve been called everything BUT that, so whipping girl sounded nice, for a change, and also kind of exciting. “Whipping girl,” I said again, because I just liked saying it, and couldn’t stop saying it, as I imagined myself, the girl, actually holding the whip, as I stood in the aisle surrounded by passengers. “So what do you mean, exactly, by whipping girl?” I asked Margo, even though I had a pretty good idea what she meant, which I knew wasn’t at all like what I was fantasizing about.

“What I mean,” said Margo, the writer. “Is nowadays the dislike for airlines and ticket prices are the only thing people can agree on. It brings the world together. Trashing airlines, customer service, you name it, is a fairly safe and enthusiastic topic of conversation. For instance, I won’t talk religion or politics with some people, but airline complaints are fair game.”

It was an ah-ha moment. Everything Margo said made sense. And guess what, she actually made me feel better, so much better, in fact, I could go on with my day and face whatever negativity that might come my way with a first class smile on my face.

So go ahead, say what you like about me, my job, my coworkers, it’s okay. Because we’re doing great things with our lives. Yeah, I said it, great things, people! I mean how many of you are actually bringing this crazy mixed up world together by creating a unified hatred not based on religion, race, or political belief, but by working in an industry that’s struggling just to stay afloat? I mean who would have thought that one job could spark so much emotion? From so many people. And from all walks of life!

Now seriously, why can’t we all just get along?


Because we’re all stuck in the flying tube together.