The Caped Crusader...or Reason #8 Why Ambien and Liquor Do Not Mix

Quite some time ago I wrote a post about the pant flusher who until that point, was the most ridiculous example of why Ambien and liquor do not mix. The caped crusader has topped him in oh so many ways.

The caped crusader was sitting behind the crew rest area on the flight, which on this particular aircraft is a block of 6 economy seats curtained off. His seat, and the one next to it are some of the most desired in economy, tons of legroom, quiet in front of you, really an area where you should nicely be able to get a nights sleep .

This man decided to help himself to the land of Nod by taking Ambien and washing it down with a cocktail or two. ( Crew members everywhere know this is not going to end well...)

Sometime mid flight he decided he needed to relieve himself. He tried to enter the crew rest area, thinking in his drug and drink haze it was a toilet. Mercifully for everyone, he did not urinate there. If he had, this blog post would have been written from prison as I surely would have killed him.

He somehow peed in his pants at that point, THEN stumbled back to the bathroom. This was the time he decided naked was better than clothed, and took off all his clothes and put them in the trash can. He walked back to his seat in the state he was born in.

A crew member who discovered his naturalist state gave him a blanket to cover himself up in. He decided than that the most logical way to wear it was as a cape. I would have opted for a sarong, covering his man bits would have been a better choice, but who am I to judge...

Oh Marge....

Oh Marge, what a kick in the pants you were to work with. More of a smack on the ass really, since you kept doing that to me on the flight.

In briefing before the flight, I should have been suspicious when no one opted to work in first class with you. Silly me, I chose to work first class galley anyway, thinking it the least hateful spot of the 747.

Often when you work with senior crew members, you can see flashes of their junior selves, the girl in them that got them hired. A giggle, wink, trim figure or sweet southern accent will tell you how they got the job in their youth. Not so with Marge. Her smokers voice made you feel like you were working with one of Marge Simpsons sisters come to life. She was wearing the sensible shoes and trouser/sweater combo that screamed "Don't mess with with me honey."

She threw her bags in the first class closet, and took the time to croak that the hated people, all before the predeparture champagne had been uncorked. During boarding ,when a woman with a toddler sat in first class, that was the time to share with me she hated 'blighters' ( kids). She doesn't working upper deck because she hated pilots, so really at this point I wondered if it might be easier for her to tell me what she didn't hate.

She moved as slow as a snail, and had a complete disinterest in giving our passengers anything remotely resembling a first class service. Champagne glasses? "Naw, I use these wine glasses, they hold more so I don't have to refill them as often" she winked as she told me. It was at that point I started to feel ill....

Every time she entered the galley, there was an ass smack followed by a "whatcha doin girlfriend?" or "Hey girlie girl! " Marge, I am working, you might want to try it sometime, I thought. But of course just winced and carried on.

When the service was mercifully complete, she took the time to share that airplane food gave her "the shits" then proceeded to eat 3 crew meals. I thought I could get something positive out of her by asking if she liked flying to the new destinations her base had, like Brussels. Whats not to like, a sweet layover hotel, nice chocolate, how can you not like a Brussels trip I thought? She proceeded to share that, since " those Africans in economy smell like a herd of cattle" she did not like working that flight. I was afraid to ask what she thought of flights to China, and walked away.

Marge, you weren't mean but good God really you need to be working in a diner, Waffle House or Bob's Big Boy, not an airplane.

Something to Cleanse the Palate

After reading about the teen Lolita and her creepy suitor, maybe we could all use something fresh and light to cleanse our palates.. I recently had a layover in London, which was incredibly strange after having lived there for so long. It was familiar, so much so I started walking towards a place I no longer lived at, forgetting my home that evening was a hotel.

My boy who flies is thinking of writing a book on the Mews of London. For those unfamiliar with the concept of a mews it is a tiny row of houses, usually behind garden squares, where the Victorians kept their animals. They were originally for falcons who were molting ( see, boy pilot is doing his research) but quickly changed to the area where the horses were stabled. Those stables are now little bijoux sized homes in the city, with prices to make your eyes water.

My homework on this layover was to photograph certain news to see if they were attractive enough for boy pilot to go back and photograph professionally. In case you are wondering, he is equally as good running down books I want on his layovers, bless him.

The above Courtfield Mews, which I lived across from for several years and tragically never really noticed. That is part of the charm of the mews, they are sort of invisible, generally traffic free and so quiet you could often swear you are in the countryside if your eyes are closed.

The two lovelies above and below are Kynance Mews, which have always been my favorite .Not all the mews have so much greenery in them, it is a real treat to see so much . Mews home owners do not have a back yard, or any windows along the back so the front area is their yard and view. The owners here really make the most of it.

Jailbait , or the Russian Lolita

Last week there was an unaccompanied minor on the flight from San Francisco to Frankfurt. There are children traveling alone who are escorted from parent to gate to the person meeting them, to keep them safe and from getting lost. Usually they are under 10 but internationally they maybe up to 16 years old .

This UM was a Russian girl, living in the states but going back to Russia for the summer. She was 15 but dressed in her stilettos and jeans cut so low you could see what she had eaten for lunch.. She looked easily in her 20s ...Of course a girl like that would find the UM red and white striped button clashed with her fashion choices, so she removed it when she sat down..

Sometime during the 10 hour flight " Lolita " befriended a man in his fifties. Shortly thereafter the new couple began making out and groping, the sort that should really be done in the backseat of a car at the end of a date. The crew had a meltdown and separated the two lovebirds for the rest of the flight, and had customer service supervisors meet the flight.

The male passenger was held aside, I am sure the customer service reps were quaking in fear, imagining a lawsuit from the panicked parents of the teen. She got on the phone with her mother and began jabbering heatedly in Russian. The authorities decided as she spoke to her parents first, they could not take what Lolita would have claimed at face value, as she might have been coached. In any case, the mother was not bothered by the events on the flights.

I am not sure if that was the more or less disturbing than the fact the mans SON was also on the flight, and more age appropriate for the girl, as he was 17. The man was released and Lolita was escorted to her connecting flight. We are fairly sure she and the creepy man are now Facebook friends...