From the moment that couple seated at 26GH asked to speak to someone from the ground staff I had the feeling something was not right. Only i didn’t know then it was an impression of déjà vu all over again. The same déjà vu that guy had at the airport in Final Destination where he sees corpses being burned by the flames of the plane’s engines.
I wanted to run away from that plane. Yell to everybody “get out, we’re not going to make it!” Why didn’t I call in sick earlier. I was bitter. I hadn’t been to Johannesburg for a while and I really wanted to get some good tenderloin because life in the UAE was goddamn expensive.
-Excuse me can I talk to someone from the ground staff please?
After 3 years in the industry you develop a 5th sense. You feel when you’re going to be pulled out or not. It’s not just a guess. Its scientific. It’s like you have ESPN or something.
I think it’s the same feeling spiderman gets when he feels danger is right behind him. The ground staff got on board. He listened. Talked to them, moved towards the door, shaking his head.
I was panicking inside. How could he leave without saying a word. I had the right to know given the fact my high risk alert was blinking like mad. When he told me, I was gobsmacked. My jaw dropped. I could not believe my ears.
But did you inform the Captain, I asked? How can you let these people board an aircraft. What are you going to do I yelled so everyone could hear me. But no one was paying attention. Everyone was cheerful. So happy to board a plane. What’s to be happy about? There is a high chance you won’t make it to the next airport and you’re all merry with your beats on your head, taking selfies and loling to the new vine trending on your smartphone.
“But the travel agent said we would be seated near the entry door and disembark the plane first.”
Seriously? Out of 400 people who just boarded an Airbus A380, you two, not even premium economy passengers, expect to disembark the mammoth of airplanes first just because someone told you there were golden coins at the other end of a rainbow?
We all know nobody would ever make such a promise. You must have made that up yourself just like you told your friends you were staying in an all inclusive resort with beach front view when in fact you booked a crappy hostel on agoda.com
And I was right. The whole flight Mr and Mrs attention seekers could not stop pressing the call button for this and that. When all trays were cleared they hadn’t finished theirs. It’s a 15cm x 27cm tray with 550g of tasteless processed food presented in a way to make you think the price of your ticket was well spent. So why are you still on your potato and egg salad when it’s my time to eat my homemade pasta arabiata ready to eat since at least 15 minutes?
Oh yeah, you pressed the call button yet again and asked for…?
“It was a mistake yet again.” I say through gritted teeth. I make my way to the aft galley when someone stops me. “Can I have a glass of red please?”
I wouldn’t need an ethylotest to guess you already had 4 glasses by now and we’ve been flying for only 155 minutes. That’s almost 2 bottles in altitude levels. “We have to monitor 32G” I tell the cabin supervisor.
-He has a slurred speech and he clearly looks drunk.
-Give him just that one.
He glared at me and I knew if I discussed his orders I would get a bad review.
-But if he gets sick, I’ll have a pair of gloves and some savlon ready for you to clean the mess. I turned my heels and disappeared in the aisles.
While doing regular rounds (3 long fucking hours before I was allowed my legal rest period) that night, I met Matt in the cabin with a glass of red on his tray.
-32G? I asked.
-You have to stop serving him alcohol. He is clearly intoxicated. I told him we would be serving him juice and water. We’re not an open bar.
-Chill out and let him have this last one.
-I’ll have gloves and.. but he was already gone.
I was sleepy. 20 minutes to go and it would be finally time for my rest. The bell rang. I checked the panel indicator and that was 26G again. What the hell do they want this time. It went off.
Ding. Another bell again. I don’t know if you listened to Anita Ward’s song ring my bell way too much. But 26G is going to hear me ring some bells now and its going to be a halloween horror version of jingle bells rock.
But it was 26A. Someone irrupted in the galley and told me 26G was not feeling well.
So here’s 26G, as pale as Marilyn Manson and blabbering some satanic prose. I don’t understand a word she’s saying. She’s in some kind of trance. Her husband’s in panic. He tells me she’s never acted like that before. Never acted like that before? You and your wife have been real jerks and you’re telling me that never happened before?
You never know who you marry until you fly with them and they show you their real face at 4 a.m when you fly above the Bermuda triangle.
-Aserejè ja de jè de jebe tu de jebere seibiunouva. She yells.
-Yes, no. What’s happening? Please help my wife.
I think she’s having a fit. She’s been sitting for too long.
I take Emily Rose out of her seat and try some incantations. Vade Retro Satanas!
Her head is spinning. She is wild. She speaks a weird language (spanish?) and insults me “majavi an de bugui an de buididipi”.
The cabin supervisor has joined the exorcism session. Luckily he speaks Spanish and tells me what to say. We repeat after him: “Y la baila,y la goza y la canta!”, three times.
We all hold hands and shout “Thou shall not pass!” just like Gandalf in the Lord of the rings and the devil leaves the body of Emily Rose.
I tell Emily to make regular rounds in the cabin instead of pressing the call button so it would help the devil from staying away from her arteries and circulatory system. She nods. No one would guess she was possessed by Satan a few minutes ago.
8 minutes to go until I get my rest.
What’s that smell? My torch goes to and fro and here just before my eyes, a big orange gouache on the floor. 32G has puked what I recognise as bits and pieces of the chicken curry we’ve served hours ago. And the acrid smell must be the wine. So you are too lazy to get your fat ass off your seat and puke in the lavatory 4 rows behind your seat
You just do it on the floor?
I open the toilet to get some air freshner. I take the interphone to tell the cabin supervisor, 32G has made a cute Edvard Munch, personalised, The Scream painting for him.
-They’ve already been to sleep.
-Whaaaat?? But it’s..04:13 we’re supposed to go at 04:20.
-It is 04:20
-Now clean the mess and then you can take your rest. The interphone went dead.
I felt possessed by the devil that left Emily Rose. During 30 seconds I yelled the same satanic verses “Aserejè ja de jè de jebe tu de jebere seibiunouva.”
I looked at the two intertwined Cs of my watch. That shitty fake golden rose Chanel watch I bought in the fake market is clearly going behind! And it costed me €300!
All that for some tenderloin. No wonder people who are vegetarian have less shit happening around them.
Note to self: never set a foot in a fake market ever again.
Lyrics owned by Manuel Ruiz/ Altra Moda/Sony/Las Ketchup