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| Buenos Aires |
I
knew as soon as I saw him what was going to happen. It wasn't easy to
turn away from him, his perfect, brown eyes, the face stubble, the
tall frame in the red flannel shirt and the way his curls slightly
bounced as his tread brought him down the jetway towards the boarding
door, where I stood as greeter for our flight from Buenos Aires to
Houston. It was hard to turn away from him. As the greeter, it's my
job to welcome the passengers aboard. I was very aware of the fact
that I was a man unable to ignore this guy's good looks, but he was
living art, and I'm OK with that; anyone would certainly recognize
how attractive this guy was. After saying hello and eliciting his
enchanting smile, I turned to watch him walk down the aisle, seeing
that his presence garnered the attention of many, and then
immediately sought Denise to gauge her reaction. She took notice more
quickly than I expected.
The
first thing I noticed about Denise when we first met was her
necklace. It looped around her long neck twice and was studded with
crystals and shiny fake diamonds. I had taken a seat at the back of
the small briefing room, allowing those who came after me the
opportunity to fill in the seats around the table, which seemed too
large for the small room, just before the trip began. Denise was the
4th flight attendant to enter. She was all smiles and
chatting with Chandra, who she was hoping would take the galley
position so that she could work first class aisle with her. Denise
was senior enough to hold first class, but Chandra was not, and
Denise stated that, “she doesn't 'do' economy.” They agreed to
this situation if their seniority could hold the positions. There was
one senior enough to take it from them, but she passed on the galley
position so that they could work together.
Denise
was infectious. Her laugh made me smile. Her eyes beamed and she
walked like she was on a mission. It didn't hurt that her legs looked
like they should be insured against loss. And then there was her
blouse; tight in the way that men take notice. One could tell she was
a party girl; that smile, her attitude, the laugh, but for as much as
she partied, it was also evident that she worked out- her toned legs,
shapely torso and curvy rear-view... she definitely turned heads.
When
the pilots arrived on board, they gave a quick briefing. The second
officer walked in and I could see Denise straighten up. Her eyes
widened as she looked him up and down. He was a family man, with
photos of his kids on his suitcase and a golden wedding ring on his
finger. But Denise found him catching, with his dimple, blue eyes and
smooth face settled under a nice head of hair. He humored Denise and
Chandra, who were soon calling themselves his sister wives, as both
were interested in being his pretend 'wife' for the duration of the
flight. The innuendos were amazing and I was glad we were all taking
it so well and not having to fear attending a sexual harassment
class.
Working
the boarding door is fun for me. I get to say hello to all the
passengers. I can figure out who the fun people are, who are in bad
moods, who is going to be difficult and which passengers will be
needy during the flight, all in how they respond to my greeting as
they board the plane. It's also fun standing at the boarding door,
which is located just behind the flight deck and right next to the
first class galley. Since I'd be working in the back of the plane,
this would be the most time I'd have to socialize with the flight
attendants working there. They were busy getting things set up in the
galley for the flight and delivering pre-departure drinks, hanging
jackets, passing out amenity kits and taking meal orders. But they
were also fun and flirty- with one another and with passengers. They
were upbeat and funny and made working with them a pleasure.
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| Sights of BA |
I
spent a lot of time on the layover with the crew. Denise and Chandra
talked all three pilots into joining us for dinner, as well as our
purser and one of the language speakers. We went to a wonderful place
for steaks, which wound up being the best steak dinner I'd ever had.
The wine was flowing, the conversation was definitely engaging, and
Denise's tight silver skirt kept creeping up. She would smile and
subconsciously pull it back down. I was the only male sitting on the
opposite side of the table from her and I kept noticing each time she
moved back in the chair to push the dress back down. I guess my eyes
gave me away. As we walked back to the hotel, the second officer
pulled me aside and told me how envious he was of my view at dinner.
I smiled back, telling him, “For the record, they were white.”
His eyes rolled back as he shook his head in the disappoint of having
missed out. It was almost creepy.
Denise
was definitely a party girl. Besides the talk, often peppered with
choice words and hints of a wild lifestyle, she mentioned that on a
recent layover to Buenos Aires, she had partied most of the time and
wound up getting only six hours of sleep during her 35 hour stay. I
remember when I could party like that, but those days are behind me.
She was in her thirties and recently divorced. The only thing slowing
her down was her four-year old son, who she adored and spoke quite
highly of.
As
we walked back to the hotel with our bellies full of Argentine steak,
she was arm in arm with her 'sister wife' Chandra. It was late, so
there weren't many people out, and all the shops were closed, with
their metal gates rolled down. As we passed people in the street,
they would greet them with a loud, “Hola!” The men would all take
notice; their necks craning as they passed. Such a spectacle; was it
the wine or the girl? At one point a work truck passed by on the
road. The truck's bed was full of workmen. They yelled hola up to the
men, who took notice of the two ladies, smiled and yelled an excited
'hola' back. I hoped she never did this when not in the company of 4
protective men!
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| Florida St. at night |
So
here we were, the layover ended and we were getting ready to fly back
home. This tall Argentinian with the eyes and smile, the plaid shirt
exposing a hint of chest hair and jeans that fit just right, walks on
board, crosses over to the right aisle, and walks to economy to find
his seat. I looked at Denise and sure enough, as I expected, she
noticed him, too. In fact, most heads seated in first class turned
his way as he moved towards the rear of the plane. She made a comment
to God and made a B-line to the economy section, saying something
about economy needing assistance with the overhead bins. Miss, “I
don't do economy” was doing economy!
She
returned, alone, and without a phone number. I made a cheeky comment
about this, to which she simply replied, “Well, after all, he's not
sitting in first class.” It's OK to have a nice piece of art, but
it seems what a girl really wants is a wallet.
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