The Rerouted Skytress

This Wednesday I’ll start my 34th year as a Skytress. Holy Moly! No one is more astonished about this number than me. Being a Skytress was never,…..ever…on my radar. First of all, I was far from looking like the typical Skytress. Heck. I still am! Secondly, traveling to different places by myself sounded horrible. I was positive I wasn’t brave enough to do this. Worst yet…I had never worked as a waitress on the ground. Heck. I had never made coffee! Even worse, I had no clue how to serve anyone, anything. When our family friend, Mary, suggested I apply to my airline, I did it mainly to bide time from getting a job with my chosen college degree or starting law school. Filling out an application sounded much better than polishing up my resume. Heck. Working out four hours a day to lose the weight to make the weight requirement was more desirable than working on my resume. If I am being honest, I’m starting my 34th year as a Skytress simply because I am still too lazy to work on a resume.

I learned very quickly when I became a Skytress, exceptional coffee making skills weren’t needed. No siree. I just needed the skills to place a coffee pack in the coffee maker and push the button. Heck. I had those exemplary skills in spades. Yessiree. If the coffee is awful, it’s not because of me. I’m just the button pusher! I’ll admit. The required skill set for cooking the in-flight meals is a wee bit more involved. Yep. I have to set the suggested temperature and the cooking time BEFORE I push the button to cook the meals. Of course, throughout my career, there have been many days I taken on the role of a cooking technician. Just like our home ovens, some aircraft ovens can be finicky. Some cook too slow. Some cook too fast. Then there are days the catered meals come off the catering truck more chilled than normal. I remember some bitterly cold winters when the first-class and main-cabin soups were boarded frozen. It didn’t matter what temperature or how long the soups were cooked. No siree. Inevitably, the edge of the soups would get blazing hot, whilst the center of the soups remained frozen. There were many days I apologetically served those soups to the passengers. Fortunately, the passengers understood. Yessiree. People in cold climates definitely comprehend the cause and effect of bitterly cold weather on things. Eventually, a very clever person decided the soups should be boarded in thermoses. Eureka! The thermoses didn’t need to be heated and the soup was the ideal temperature inside. It was the perfect solution. Well, unless you have a temporary case of skyzheimers like I did one day. Unfortunately, I forgot the soups didn’t need to be heated. Yessiree. I turned the oven on with the thermoses inside. Do you know soup explodes out of thermoses when you turn the oven on? Well, I do now. Egads!

Thirty-four years ago, my triceps and biceps would get multiple daily workouts while flying. I’ll admit. I miss my sculpted arms. However, I don’t miss serving the meal trays in the main cabin on domestic flights. It was an aerobic workout every flight carrying two meal trays at a time to every row. Then we would stand holding the trays for an eternity while the passengers decided if they wanted to eat the chicken or steak. The major arm workout occurred while waiting for the bulkhead passengers to figure out how to get their tray table out of the armrest. These passengers had no difficulty re-stowing their tray tables, though. When it came time to pick up the hundred-plus meal trays, the bulkhead passengers usually had their meal trays on the floor at their feet. Yessiree. I don’t miss the meal services of old. Amazingly, or not….Thirty- four years later, the bulkhead passengers still have difficulty getting their tray tables out of the armrest. See? Unlike my sculpted arms, some things never change with time.

Traveling to different cities by myself these past thirty- four years hasn’t been horrible either. I’ve learned I have no difficulty exploring a new city on my own. I remember my first international trip to Hamburg, Germany. I went out exploring on my own before my crew met up for dinner. I was nervous about getting lost in a city where I didn’t speak the language. So, I made a plan. I walked one block around the hotel. Then I walked two blocks from the hotel. The more confident I got, the more I explored. I’ll admit. I still use this exploration plan in certain layover cities. Yessiree. I may be a senior Skytress. However, I still harbor the fear of getting lost forever on a layover. Thankfully, for me, there is usually at least one Skytress, Skyter, or Pilot that wants to go explore on our layovers. Heck. Some of my most memorable layovers have been with my crew in tow. Airline people are exceptionally fun. We love to jump in boats, on trains, in cars, in taxis, or just walk to the next best adventure. Believe me. I’ve had 34- glorious years of adventures with my airline family.

When I first became a Skytress I received a packet stating how many years I had until retirement. It was 41 years. I laughed when I read it. I had no intention of being a Skytress for more than a year. I was going to fly a year then go off to law school. Seven years in I started studying to become a Secret Service Agent. When I took the voluntary furlough in 2006 to move back home to take care of my Dad while he battled cancer, I had no intention of returning to fly. Before Ron passed away, we talked about flying for just five more years. When Covid hit, I seriously debated taking the early retirement package and starting a new career path. Yessiree. I have had one Skytress leg out the door for 34 years. I’ll admit. I don’t know how many more years I will continue to fly. The urge to retire and start something new has never been stronger. Still, after 34 years, the thought of working on a resume is still pretty undesirable. Yessiree. I may make it to 35 years of being a Skytress simply because I’m still too lazy to work on a resume. Heck. I may make it to 41 years simply for the same reason!