I had heard through the grapevine ( or jumpseat wireless) you had been fired years ago. You, the crew member whose name we all knew and had half a dozen horror stories about. Second in notoriety only to Alex, the post op alcoholic who WAS fired. Hell, no one could compete with her, don't feel bad for coming in second..
A few years ago rumor spread that you had either been hired with British Airways, got married to your lunatic pilot boyfriend and moved to the states, were out on medical leave or had dissappeared under dubious circumstances. I was never sure which story I liked best but all had their merits.
Now all my fantasies of never seeing you again have gone poof as I have flown with you twice this month. You are back and as welcome as a case of herpes, head lice or a broken middle seat in economy. The reasons for your return are as mysterious as crop circles, Stonehenge or the plot of Lost.
Its not as though past flights with you were uneventful. There was the time an out of base crew made you sit down as your very presence was slowing down the service, your continual insistence that you could really make us look better with your professional make up artist skills, and lets not forget when you were pregnant and were asking passengers if you should keep the baby. Those were fun times.
Then, your mailbox disappeared from work, the stories about you dimmed from memory. Heck, there were people new to the base who had never flown with or heard of you. Now they get their chance. I really liked the flight where you watched me work during boarding while standing absolutely still. I was working first class, yet somehow had to work business as you were busy imitating a statue. Your laziness has increased, the force is strong around you , Lazy One Kenobi.
Flight Attendant X, you could make a Buddhist turn to violence, so lazy are you. I will miss many many things about being based in London but sweetheart, you ain't one of them. I bid a fond flight attendant buh-bye to you.