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Single-Serving Friends
When I became a flight attendant three and a half years ago, I thought I was well on my way to having an overabundance of built-in friends.
FRIENDS!!
ME!!
Imagine that.
Pigs must be flying somewhere.
I figured, a bunch of similarly corky people who willingly chose a transient life, stuck in a metal tube together at 39,000 feet, would have every reason to be friends. We're all notably different in personality, background, age, experience, work history, and countless other categories, but we have things in common that clearly bind us!
Right?!?
Well...
To borrow an ingenious phrase from the infamous narrator of “Fight Club,” I have become something of a master at making Single-Serving Friends.
We meet on the plane, we talk about where we’re based, the ridiculous report time we had at the start of our trip, the passenger who was presumptuous enough to think we would take his trash during boarding, and whether or not the attractive Captain was gay.
We exchange tips and tricks for a smoother flight, talk about what authors we like best and the books of theirs we plan to read next, complain about passengers that think it's totally acceptable to touch us, and we might even share some random and juicy (but not too scandalous) secrets - information that shouldn’t be shared always leads to the quickest camaraderie.
Then *POOF*
Like the jerk from the proverbial underwhelming one-night-stand, I never hear from them again. Even those from whom I’m lucky enough to get a phone number: there are no responses to my messages! As if, once the trip has come to its conclusion, it’s taboo to try and contact those I flew with. Their silence is a clear “You’re breaking code” reminder. You get one trip. Maybe only one flight. Then everything about that experience expires.
Move on.
Hurry up and wait.
Next.
Next.
Next.
That is the life of a flight attendant.
You fly in a single-serving vehicle to a single-serving destination. You eat a single-serving meal of hotel food and wash it down with a single-serving mini of cheap booze. You get a single-serving souvenir for a single-serving memory.
You don't question it, you don't try to change it, you don't talk about it.
Those are the rules of Flight Club.
Single-Serve: it's not a job, it's a lifestyle.
Just do not attempt to use Single-Serving Friends after their expiration date; it’s bad for your health.
Real talk.
#FlightAttendant #CabinCrew #Singleserving #FightClub #Friendship
© Mar Café
FRIENDS!!
ME!!
Imagine that.
Pigs must be flying somewhere.
I figured, a bunch of similarly corky people who willingly chose a transient life, stuck in a metal tube together at 39,000 feet, would have every reason to be friends. We're all notably different in personality, background, age, experience, work history, and countless other categories, but we have things in common that clearly bind us!
Right?!?
Well...
To borrow an ingenious phrase from the infamous narrator of “Fight Club,” I have become something of a master at making Single-Serving Friends.
We meet on the plane, we talk about where we’re based, the ridiculous report time we had at the start of our trip, the passenger who was presumptuous enough to think we would take his trash during boarding, and whether or not the attractive Captain was gay.
We exchange tips and tricks for a smoother flight, talk about what authors we like best and the books of theirs we plan to read next, complain about passengers that think it's totally acceptable to touch us, and we might even share some random and juicy (but not too scandalous) secrets - information that shouldn’t be shared always leads to the quickest camaraderie.
Then *POOF*
Like the jerk from the proverbial underwhelming one-night-stand, I never hear from them again. Even those from whom I’m lucky enough to get a phone number: there are no responses to my messages! As if, once the trip has come to its conclusion, it’s taboo to try and contact those I flew with. Their silence is a clear “You’re breaking code” reminder. You get one trip. Maybe only one flight. Then everything about that experience expires.
Move on.
Hurry up and wait.
Next.
Next.
Next.
That is the life of a flight attendant.
You fly in a single-serving vehicle to a single-serving destination. You eat a single-serving meal of hotel food and wash it down with a single-serving mini of cheap booze. You get a single-serving souvenir for a single-serving memory.
You don't question it, you don't try to change it, you don't talk about it.
Those are the rules of Flight Club.
Single-Serve: it's not a job, it's a lifestyle.
Just do not attempt to use Single-Serving Friends after their expiration date; it’s bad for your health.
Real talk.
#FlightAttendant #CabinCrew #Singleserving #FightClub #Friendship
© Mar Café
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