Bon Voyage

Some of my flying partners have recently retired in a mass “early-out” package. They didn’t consult me. I would have told them not to because I’m against retirement on principle. Not to mention, we’re way too young …and always will be. Nevertheless, they’re gone and I’m feeling sad knowing I’ll most likely never see them again. There aren’t a lot of jobs where you grow old together because people don’t stay in the same job at the same company for thirty, forty-plus years anymore. But flight attendants do. And those of us who were hired around the same time, have known each other for most of our adult lives. We’ve been through a lot, not just professionally but personally: new loves, lost loves, raising kids, aging parents, illnesses, injuries, and all kinds of other dramas. We’ve grown up together and seen the world together. We share some pretty amazing memories. I see their names listed on the retirement page and can’t help but to feel bummed and sentimental. So, please excuse me while I reminisce for a minute. 

When I first started flying, 28 years ago, I was on reserve and tied to a beeper. If my beeper went off, I had exactly ten minutes to find a payphone and call the crew desk. My first year, I made $13,000. Dollars. That was shocking even 28 years ago. I clearly remember my first payday. For some reason, my mom picked me up from the airport that day. I remember opening my paycheck (it was paper in those days) and starting to cry. I walked through the airport, in my uniform, openly sobbing. I couldn’t help myself. When I got into Mom’s car, she said, “What’s wrong? What happened?” I said, “I got paid.” 

As new flight attendants, we were broke! But, we were young and pretty and in the same boat, so we made the most of it. We had a blast hanging out together. I always packed 1. a bathing suit and 2. a little black dress. Because 1. the jacuzzi was free and 2. so was the buffet at happy hour. Thank God for happy hour. I don’t know how we would have survived without it. Incidentally, I notice that hotels no longer serve free appetizers at happy hour. Obviously, they lost too much money on us, junior flight attendants. We would order one inexpensive drink, eat five pounds of appetizers, and hope someone would ask us to dinner.   

Those early years were full of innocence and glamour. Of course, travel has changed a lot over the course of my career. Twenty-plus years ago, we may not have had sleepers with individual movie screens or on-board wifi, but what we did have back-in-the-day was glamour. I mean, the 747 itself was a glamorous airplane, sexy even. It was curvy, double-decker, with a spiral staircase and elevators. In first class, we carved roasts in the aisle, served caviar with Dom Perignon and vodka chilled in an ice sculpture. Between courses, passengers cleansed their pallets with sorbet. I was trained on how to properly serve sake. It’s a mini ceremony. How to fold napkins into fans and swans. We mixed signature cocktails, passed out decks of cards, and people smoked! As flight attendants, we were told to sit down when we smoked. Apparently, this is more lady-like. And, of course, to sit with our ankles crossed, never our knees! In training, we were also schooled on make-up application and made sure to match our “lips and tips.” Of course, we love to joke about how glamorous our job is when we have to clean up puke or dig through dirty tray carts looking for lost retainers. But really, what other job do you get to lie down in a bunk and take a nap for a few hours in the middle of your day? What other job do you get paid to have dinner in Paris with your friends or sip a Mai Tai on the beach watching the sunset? And you can bet that at any major event happening anywhere in the world, there are flight attendants present on a layover and getting paid.  Maybe not a lot, but enough to support the habit. 

So, why did my friends retire?