The water arced out of his glass and convened into shimmery globes in the air over my head. It was one of those moments when the world grinds nearly to a halt and moves at the speed of agony. I was seated in the back row of the plane and as I looked down the aisle I saw every passenger slowly rise out of their seat to the limits of their seatbelts before being slammed back down. I knew that when those passengers reconnected with their seats that the suspended globes would also come slamming down and I would be drenched.
He apologized profusely when he saw the soaked state of my magazine and my hair. I just laughed. Had this happened five minutes earlier, those shimmery globes would have been hot coffee.
The flight attendants had been in the galley behind me almost the entire flight grousing about their union and how they couldn’t believe that now they couldn’t retire at 50 years old with ten years into the company to get full benefits, but they had to wait until 55! If you know me, you can imagine the look on my face having to listen to THAT drivel all the way from Phoenix to Denver. (More on unions at a later date!) So, once I determined that the unrestrained attendents weren’t injured (significantly anyway), I let myself imagine that the “open shop” angels had gotten their digs in. Remind me to write a letter to United Airlines. Not only did those attendents share their union woes with unsuspecting passengers who not only didn’t care, but were irritated (as evidenced by shared scowling glances amongst ourselves), but after we were free from the turbulence, none of them bothered to evaluate the condition of the passengers.
Oh, they did stop talking about their union after the turbulence episode….and started talking about worker’s comp. I think I’ll look into becoming a flight attendant.