The air hostess

ME: irked, make that highly irritated and spoiling for a fight. At about 20 minutes till midnight, my 7:15 aero flight was well over 4 hours late. Airport was a quiet place, a seeming ode to lost hope and perished dreams. Everything seemed to work together to get me to tip over. 

 

From network issues which caused a 2-minute check in procedure stretch to over 10 even though there was just us: two tired colleagues desperately hoping for a miracle at the check-in counter, to the lavatory attendant who had to be harangued by her colleagues into divulging the secret hiding place of the last half-roll of toilet paper, on to the security clearance officers who seemed convinced that the best way to put late night domestic flight suckers like myself at ease was through loud debates on the chance of the flight making it at all tonight. 

 

So it was a night slowly teetering on the edge of a collapse into i-still-am-not-quite-sure-what. 

 

Getting into the plane with my fellow zombie-like travelers, I made a beeline for the lavatory only to stop short when I saw the person exiting the only now available bathroom. I knew it wasn't a good idea. You just know don't you, when someone has left a four-letter word of a smell behind. I cringe at the memory but yeah I still had to use it. 

 

I counted the heads of my fellow passengers. We were 17, or was it 18, I'm not quite sure now. Made my way back to my seat and eagerly sank into 3A: thankfully whoever bought that seat changed their mind and after over 3 hours spent lying in a fetal position at the airport, the extra leg room was a blessing I couldn't pass up. 

 

"Yes my phone is in flight mode", I repeated for the second time in less than 30 seconds to the air-hostess showing her the game I was playing. Second time around I looked up with all of the irritation I felt only to lock eyes with the most tired of eyes I'd seen in a while. And my irritation vanished. She looked so dead-on-her-feet tired and I started to imagine what the schedule changes would have meant: the longer hours on her feet than planned, the short words from passengers whose schedules had been disrupted, the lack of rest, the hours spent serving refreshment and collecting trash when passengers were done. It was a sad 'aha' moment for me. 

 

I've met the friendly and the surly, the professional and the crass, the subtle and the loud. Until tonight I'd never seen the quiet desperation and frustration. It's a lesson I hope I recall the next time I fly. Everyone could do with a little kindness.