
Work diary or Schedule of a Flight Attendant
A day on the job. For a
flight
attendant that could mean...a trip to Paris...or an emergency landing. It can be
fun, an adventure, or both...but is it work? I’ve found that working for a major
airline this past year has been one of the hardest jobs I have ever had, and yet
one of the most enjoyable. The schedule and the passengers challenge me in ways
I never could have imagined. But nothing beats hanging out in Las Vegas for 24
hours with a company-paid hotel room and expense money. The thousands of us
flying encounter many different experiences during the course of a day. This is
a day (well, technically a trip) in my life...
5:45 P.M. Friday: The Assignment
In the
airline industry,
seniority rules. Mechanics, pilots, flight attendants, customer service
agents--all of these employees enjoy pay rates, schedules and benefits based on
their length of service with the company. Among flight attendants, seniority
determines status as a lineholder or reserve. Lineholders have a flying schedule
set at least one month in advance; they know when and where they will work and
on what types of aircraft. The airlines use reserves to fill open flying time
and to cover positions vacated by lineholders calling in sick or on holiday. If
you are a relatively new flight attendant, like me, you can expect to sit
reserve for a couple of years. Flight attendants often receive a set schedule
(known as a block) after less than two years, but at some bases, flight
attendants can sit reserve for more than ten years.
As a reserve
flight attendant,
my "work day" begins with a call from a crew scheduler. Each airline operates
differently; at mine, schedulers call reserves on-duty to ask what trips they
want to fly the following day. Trips are paid by the flight hour, from the time
the aircraft door is shut to the time it is opened. And for every hour away from
base, flight attendants are paid expense money. This particular Friday evening,
when crew scheduling calls, I choose a four-day trip on the Airbus 319--one of
our newer aircraft. It pays better than average and overnights in
Raleigh-Durham, Washington, DC and Denver. Working what the airline labels the
"C" position, I serve in the economy cabin and sit in the front, near the
boarding door. With my trip set, I pack. I take a few extra pieces of my uniform
and some clothes for the overnight. I go to bed early since I must check in
early the next morning.
7:30 A.M. Saturday: Check-in
This morning, I go down to the
crew room below the airport concourse in Philadelphia. Each base has a crew room
complete with couches, computers and supervisors’ offices. Pilots and flight
attendants also have boxes or folders there for company mail. Before starting a
trip, a crewmember must check in for it. First things first, I use the computer
to sign in for the trip. If you do not sign in an hour before the trip departs,
you are liable to get written up by your supervisor. Since boarding begins 30
minutes prior to departure, there’s not much time to spend in the crew room, but
I have a few minutes to check my box for memos and chat with friends. I head to
the plane to meet up with the rest of the crew.
Communication between the
cockpit and the cabin plays a vital role in maintaining a safe environment, and
the crew briefings at the beginning of a trip set the tone. Once on the
airplane, Becky, the lead flight attendant, briefs Mike and me on safety
procedures, delegates announcement responsibilities and confirms that we have
our emergency manuals. Afterward, the captain conducts his briefing, reviewing
safety-related issues, flight time, weather, and what he likes to drink.
Ready, Set, Go: Inflight
About 30 minutes prior to
departure, the agent working our flight comes down the jetway to begin boarding.
Becky nods okay, and we finish checking our emergency equipment and catering
supplies. From the forward galley, Becky and I greet the passengers and prepare
drinks for first class customers. Mike hangs out in the back, monitoring the
dwindling space in the overhead bins. Boarding tends to provide the biggest
headache, especially considering I do not get paid until that door is shut. With
a nearly full flight, it is pretty much guaranteed that space in the overhead
bins will go quickly. Tensions mount, but bags need to be checked. Though the
company no longer requires passenger counts, many pilots prefer to have them.
When you see the flight attendant slowly coming up the aisle silently moving his
or her lips, sometimes motioning his or her hands, that flight attendant is
taking a count. As easy as it may seem, it often takes more than one count to
get it right.
Once all the overhead bins are
shut and the passengers are seated, the flight is ready for departure. I verify
that the passengers seated in the window exit row are willing and able to assist
in an emergency if necessary. Before shutting the door, the agent hands Becky a
copy of the manifest, which lists first class passengers, passengers with
special needs or meals, and gate connections. We arm the exits, enabling the
slides to inflate if the doors are opened. After the safety video and a final
cabin walk-through, the three of us strap into our jump seats and I practice my
30-second review, which includes
evacuation commands and door operation
procedures. It is still a thrill when we taxi onto the runway and the engines
roar. You learn to recognize the strange (and initially scary) noises as just
the lavatory toilet seat coming down or unused hangars banging in the closet.
Once we level-off at 10,000 ft,
I head to the back and help Mike prepare for the breakfast service. To no one’s
surprise, we serve the staple of the skies: omelettes and French toast. In the
back galley, we brew coffee, cook the meals in the ovens and set up the carts.
Since the beverage cart comes stocked with cans of sodas and juices, we just add
a few things on top such as some cream and sugar for the coffee. Once the meals
finish cooking, we begin serving from the front of the cabin to the back. It
turns out we are short a few meals and have to ask the company employees
traveling on the flight to go without a breakfast. I hate doing that, but they
do not seem to mind. Space is undeniably tight on the beverage cart, and
accidents are bound to happen. I am no exception on this leg, knocking a can of
soda on a passenger as I reach for it. Not much spills, but he is still peeved.
I give him a sorry form to get his pants dry-cleaned at the airline’s expense.
Finishing the service, I settle in the back row with a book, assisting in the
cabin as needed. Passengers occasionally bring cups and other trash back for me
to dispose of as they head to the toilet, but the remainder of the long flight
is a coffee break of sorts for us.
Service in first class is
usually more involved. With 12 or fewer passengers on the smaller jets, it also
tends to be more intimate. No carts are needed, and food and beverages are
presented in china and glassware. Various types of people fly first class, but
that cabin mostly fills up with business people and other frequent flyers.
Celebrities occasionally make an appearance. A friend served Sissy Spacek once,
and another flew with the members of the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
During the flight, a problem
arises, which is relatively common on longer flights. Sitting in the back, I
notice the smell of cigarette smoke coming from the lavatory. A passenger exits
and it is obvious he has been smoking. There is no sign of the cigarette in the
trash, but I advise him that smoking in the lavatory is a violation of a federal
law and comes with a large fine. There are set procedures to deal with
situations like these and paperwork to complete.
We
cruise through the rest of
the day with little problem, except when I smash Mike’s finger in the overhead
bin as we both try to close it. He’s okay, though he is quick to point out the
tiny white scratch on his fingernail. An extra flight attendant joins us in
Denver for our next leg to Charlotte. She notices a pregnant woman sitting in
the exit row, and the four of us discuss whether the passenger is qualified to
do so. Since no regulation explicitly excludes pregnant women from those seats
and the passenger insists she is both willing and able to assist in an
emergency, we decide to let her stay there. The last leg of the day is the
easiest. Since the airline needs us in Raleigh-Durham, but does not need us to
work from Charlotte, we deadhead on another crew’s flight.
Gas, Food, Lodging: The Layover
We arrive in Raleigh-Durham at
8:00 P.M. I take Mike and Becky to the restaurant where I once waited tables. My
old boss gives us dinner on the house, certainly a welcome treat on our
first-year salary. We have an early start again the next morning and there is
not a whole lot to do near the airport in Durham, so we don’t stay out late.
On an overnight, the airline
provides each crewmember with his or her own hotel room. Long layovers (at least
15 hours off) land you at a decent hotel downtown, near the beach or some sort
of shopping venue. For shorter layovers, you will usually stay at or very near
the airport. My crew, both the pilots and the flight attendants, stay together
the entire trip--layover and all. Some airlines work a little differently,
putting flight attendants and pilots in separate hotels. The airline also covers
meals, if you count the expense money paid for the trip.
12:40 P.M. Tuesday: Check-out
The next few days of the trip
are surprisingly uneventful. The video system on the Airbus, sophisticated as it
is with its automatic preprogramming, occasionally malfunctions. Threatened with
having to do the
safety demo the "old-fashioned way," we manage to play the
video manually. At the end of day two, as the plane pulls off the runway at
National Airport in D.C., I persuade Becky to spice up the arrival announcement.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our nation’s capital," she says, instead of
the scripted "Welcome to Washington, DC." I cannot tell if anyone notices. By
the end of the fourth day, most of the giddiness has been replaced with
exhaustion.
At the end of the last leg,
we land in Philadelphia. The trip is now over. I am released from duty 15
minutes later. This rest period lasts at least eight hours and is guaranteed to
be free from phone contact from schedulers. Leaving the airport, I head out to
the employee parking lot, pick up my car and head home. Back in my room, I
unload my bags and unplug the phone.
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