At first I logged onto the computer after the silence of the two phones laying next to me left me wondering what was up the shelve of scheduling. It was dark outside and coupled with the strange fact that I have been actually working this month as well as it being a Sunday told me there would be something awaiting me. My favorite airport arrest was assigned for 1730. I acknowledged the trip and then dicked around on Facebook, man that site is a time-suck! After milling about the empty apartment, eating lunch and reading a bit of the $5 Sunday Times, I logged back into the computer to find another message waiting for me, they had changed my schedule to FRA. I’ll take that in a heartbeat. So the series of good trips has continued.
Commuting to the airport is pretty easy these days, in fact I now do it my uniform as to save time at the airport and I know longer care about people staring at me wondering why I am not on an airplane. It has been a wee bit hot this summer so I was a little sweaty by the time the C train stopped at Port Authority. I check to see if the bus was there and with its absence, I ran over and grabbed a salad from the café. I walk past the 20 people waiting for the bus to give the key my ticket and he tells me to bring my bag up so I can be first on the bus. We discuss the Dominican parade and then the theory my hairdresser shared with me about the Dominican girls being the best at blowouts. He agrees and gives me the card to a barbershop he owns.
On to the bus where everyone looks at me as I board; I have the ipod in and sit at my seat for the 40-minute drive. Inevitably tons of people get off at terminal A and then get back on the bus after their mistake. Happens everyday; it’s comical when I have extra time, not so much when I am in a hurry. Today, luckily I am not in a hurry; in fact security line was wide open and waiting for me. I got to the crew room and checked in for my flight, printed my pairing and sat down with my salad. I chit chatted with some friends and killed the 20 minutes prior to my arrival at the gate.
Gate 128 had a gathering of the blue uniforms and still showed FRA, so I walked up to the gate and did the usual introductions. I was assigned to work in the back so I kept my ears open for the want of someone upfront who wanted to switch. Sure as shit, I got my first class aisle. Since this is a flight with speakers it was Hilda and I as the aisle people. I got the drinks for everyone and passed out papers as I was supposed to do and then picked up a bit of her slack. It became an ironic theme of the day since she thinks she wrote the book on service.
This is a rare-for-me flight in which we receive crew rest on the way over, so there is an automatic urgency to get the service done, as everyone is excited about break. I worked as efficiently as possible but had those 10 people who wanted to enjoy every course, conversation and drink possible. Fine by me as I realize how much they paid for their ticket and I like being in the aisle. I was a bit out of practice with the service has I have been in sewage for the past couple of trips plus this was a wide body and there was two us up there. I let Hilda set up as clearly she had her way of doing things, and that’s alright with me, just give me a heads up instead of yelling at me for putting a used glass in the glass rack which you don’t want used until later. So the service went on and only one person came up to help us finish, she ended up yelling at him, the guy born in NY with an attitude that I love. He gave it right back to her much to my unrestrained amusement. As I am on the cheese cart, I am getting looks from the mid galley to hurry up as they stuff their face with leftover food. I give a dirty look back as they are doing nothing to help me finish and I actually slowed down my pace a bit. Guess who was on break last.
The switch of breaks left me in the first class galley alone and up comes the other reserve to raid the leftover wine. We ended up chatting and he is a riot. He has/is leading an envied (at times) life to me; completely bumming through. Has been a ski lift operator and then spent his summer surfing, been around Europe on a $1000, writes for a magazine and general lives the hell of life on the least amount of money possible. He has an infectious laugh as well and I get a kick out of his stories, thus we decided to bum around on the layover together.
The flight ends after a read-my-mind-you should be over there not here breakfast service. I was happy to be on board the crew bus, ipod in heading for Mainz. We stay in this adorable German town about 40 minutes away from the airport. I have been here twice and wandered about both times taking in the German culture that I adore. We got our rooms and at first I felt like going straight out but after a shower, the tiredness hit so I took a three-hour nap. Let me tell ya, it is damn difficult to force your body to wake up and get out of bed after such a short time. Luckily my motivation was more stories from my new friend and meeting the crew for dinner.
We walked and chatted and matched wit around this quaint town. When I walked up to the desk to get a map just in case, the receptionist asked us if we wanted to see something special? Being that the Germans have quite the reputation for freaking behind close doors, the question caught me off guard momentary but then she happily circled the dome and the old part of town. So we walked and chatted and then came upon a slide. I ran up the hill happily and climbed up the fort like contraption that would never go over in the states due to its liability risk and slid down. We wrapped up our walk in time to meet the crew for beers in the lobby bar. Eight of us showed up for beer and dinner, which is a pretty good, turn out for a crew. The beers were 2 for 1 and we sat and drank and came up with business plans for fishermen out at sea. Great group of people so it was a pleasure to be out and even better when our nice captain picked up the bill.
We all went to dinner and the camaraderie continued over another glass of beer and schnitzel. We topped off the evening with spaghetti icce, a helping of vanilla gelato pushed through a play dough like noodle maker with strawberry topping and white chocolate shavings.
I came back to the room and forced myself to stay awake for an hour more hoping to sleep until wake up. I chose to do this by watching the only movie I recognized on the telly, Showgirls…still sinks even in German.
I awoke at 0630, almost two hours prior to wake up starving and having to go to the bathroom. So, an hour later my leftover jaggerschitznel is almost gone thanks to the coffee stirrer doubled as a fork and coffee is calling my name…right after my shower.
My favorite coffee place has recently closed so I found myself walking around a "block" looking for another cafe. Let me tell you, four inch heels and cobblestone don't get along well. It was warm so I was simply carrying my blazer over my arm as well as my purse. I walked up to a place that had a sandwich board with kaffe for one euro. I start to walk in a realize it is a bar...I hesitate and the woman outside looked at me. I asked her where I could get a coffee take away. She pointed to a bakery a few stores away. I walk there and size up the menu to make ordering as simple as possible. My quick summation shows me there is only one size. So like a good flight attendant, I order a kaffe with cream. The lady looks at me and says, "I don't speak English". What?! So I say kaffe and point to the machine. Big or small she ask. I said big and accompanied it with the hand motions. She charges me and places the cup with lid and stir stick at the end of the bar. I walk down and locate the milk and sugar a few steps away. Since there is a guy over there already, I only take my coffee as to not crowd him. I get my cream and a touch of sugar in and look back for my lid and that bastard took it. I didn't dare ask for another one, so I just carefully walked away with my coffee shooting darts into the back of the guy in front of me with a spill proof cup. As I exit, the coffee spills on my thumb and I silently curse in the direction of the man with my lid. From the right I hear this catty voice, "we are not impressed with you". I turn to realize some American woman is talking to me. I looked right and left and sure as shit, that comment was directed at me. I was so shocked no response came out but I continued to walk and think about running back and spilling my coffee on her. All I could think is that her husband might have been looking at me. What a bitch.
The van ride was around 40 minutes and found me listening to my ipod and all of getting excited when some one passed around gum. I was jones for a fried turkey sandwich last week and it must have been fate to be in Frankfurt airport because that is where they live. I talked it up to the crew so majority of us stopped in and got one. Through customs for the usual German stamp, my stupid passport reflects Germany more than any other place in the world, and then through security.
The plane had just arrived so we stood around the gate waiting and chatting. Once on board we did our safety checks and I was feeling much more in tune with the job and clicked away.
The flight was uneventful for us in the front, we had some non revs and people who clearly had never been in first class. It was good because they were scared to ask for any extras. That was the only good part because they acted like immobilises the rest of the time. Asking for ice, Ma'am this is Europe, they don't use ice. Looking around for the drink cart when I asked what the gentleman wanted to drink while presenting his warm nuts, "Sir there is no drink cart in First Class we have to be imaginative and think of our drink all by our self". And of course they all ate the ice cream sundaes and cookies. Not seasoned first class at all.
Apparently in the back some lady claimed the woman in front of her knocked her unconscious by leaning her seat back and then continued to yell and threaten the crew. We almost had to divert the plane until a phyciastrist sat with her. Story is a passenger nearby came to offer the flight attendants a sedative to give the crazy lady. Apparently she calmed down and was laughing at a movie an hour or so later. Koo-koo...
I was on third crew rest and passed out, I don't think I have ever slept that hard on a break previously. The lunch service was a breeze as usual and in no time we were in our jump seat for wheels down. Customs sent us to agriculture just for the hell of wasting our time. On the bus, blocked in, and home in an hour and a half. Nap time is calling my name,
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