In a few moments the last round of carts will be out. On a twelve hours flight there is twelve hours of service. I’m not sure if I feel my legs or it is a phantom pain. After walking twelve hours through these aisles you wish you’d walk on a landmine. At least you’ll have an excuse to be sick for the next flight. Because unless you have limbs missing from your body which happened while on duty. You don’t have much of a valid excuse to be sick. Anyway crew scheduling would make them grow overnight and believe me you’d be ready for your next duty after the minimum legal rest.
Wait, what did I just see. Was it a … ? No it can’t be, we did a spraying on ground.
The carts are out. The trolley tops are ready. But then I see this little thing crawling out of nowhere. I put a hand to my mouth and gasp. A crew asks me whats wrong. And I can only point in terror.
-Don’t you see it?
-See what? I don’t see anything.
-It’s a roach!
Everyone in the galley comes to take a look but its already gone. I think it has already crawled back where it was hiding. They try to convince me that there are no roaches on board. I’m not in hypoxia. No not yet. My nailbeds aren’t blue. I know what I saw.
I pull my cart and glide it through the aisle. I shriek. This time I didn’t dream. It was a big fat one. I have to kill it before a passenger sees it. I leave my cart and discreetly press my shiny pump on the disgusting roach.
“Oh I’m sorry did I hurt you?”
“You sure did lady!!! You hurt my toe!!!”
“I’m sorry, I was trying to hit the um.” Shit I can’t say it. They’ll go crazy if they know there are roaches on board.
I’m really sorry. I thought…
Then I see it again. This time there’s not just one. I’ll hit them before he sees them.
“Oooooouch!!!! What’s wrong with you!!! You hurt me again.”
Everyone is looking at us. How can I tell them we have been flying with roaches the whole time and I’m seeing them now. “Would you like some ice? I’m really sorry. I was going for the um. But they were too fast. Please come with me at the back.”
I don’t have time to reach the aft galley. Someone gets off his seat and there they are. I don’t want to hurt anyone with my pumps. So I grab a newspaper and smash them as hard as I can.
“OOOOOOUCH!!! That hurts!!!”
Now everyone is wild. They don’t understand why I keep hitting them. I have to tell them.
“Listen everybody, I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m trying to hit the”
I take a deep breath.
“roach.” I managed to say in a tiny voice. But they all heard me very well.
They all went bersek jumping from their seats. Screaming in panic, shaking their hair, their clothes.
Now they’re on the seats, on the armrests, on the traytables, in the aisles. It’s a nightmare, they’re everywhere!
Hit. Hit. Hit with my pump. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.
Hit. Hit. Hit with my newspaper roll. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.
“I’m sorry I’m not aiming at you but the roaches.”
“Where? I can’t see them.”
I keep hitting, but I keep missing. They’re quite big and they walk in groups of five to ten. But I haven’t killed one yet. Their sight is making me dizzy. I keep smashing them but they don’t seem to die.
They’re horrible. They’re of different sizes. They’re looking at me. They’re invicible. They’re swarming in groups as if they were defiantly sniggering at my effortless attempts at smashing them.
Maybe the captain will have to divert or do an emergency landing. Because this seems be an invasion which is getting out of control.
The chime for a PA goes on. The captain is making the announcement for the emergency landing.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please go back to seats and wear your shoes. I repeat. Wear your shoes. One of our crew is suffering from podophobia and the sight of your ugly disgusting feet is giving her illusions of roaches on board. Please stick your roaches. I mean toes, sorry, back in your shoes for the rest of the flight and everything will be fine. Thank you.”