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May 31, 2005
Taken Care Of
My second to last day in Budapest I went out to a cafe and drank beers and shots of Unicum (and not the wimpy Jaegermeister tasting stuff) with a bunch of 20 somethings. Just like in the States most were students or had fairly unglamorous jobs. One, however was a fashion designer and another flight attendant.
Actually, even that one is rather unglamorous, her place of work is not behind a cash register, it's outside of a cubicle and a restaurant -- no matter that the job is bringing people food and beverages. And that's pretty much what they do. Right?
That's what I thought, so I didn't think too much of it when the flight attendant gave a little shriek of excitment when she realized when I was flying home. "My friend will be working that flight! Oh! Wow! I will have to have her take care of you."
"Yeah. Cool."
Really. I didn't know what to say. How much freedom do they have in their jobs? I thought. Maybe she could bump me up to first class. Then I could get...Whatever it is they get in first class. Then two stray thoughts collided in forefront of my mind: Are the rumors true? The ones about the complimentary oral sex in first class? And /Is that what it means to be "taken care of."
When I got on the plane My excitement had almost entirely dissappeared. They're no way they give blow jobs to Everyone in first class. So it was only with half interest I looked over all the flight attendants.
There's not a single one under 35. Damn. And the one at the lower end was a short, stocky woman that looked to have passed up her true calling as a circus clown. Her deep burgundy hair was spiky on each side of her head ala Bozo the clown, and it even looked like Bozo's make-up artist came out of retirement for the occassion. The blue, white, yellow, green and red smock-like uniform didn't exactly scream non-clown either.
An hour or two into the flight I woke from my pre-packaged dinner nap with a face not more than a foot away. It's then I noticed The Tammy Faye Baker eyelashes. How could I have missed those before? My, thankfully unspoken, question came to me as did hers. "Brian?"
"Yes?"
"My friend told me to take care of you on the flight. I am so sorry I was running around until now, but do you need anything?"
"Some water would be fine. Thanks." I don't know why, but I felt a little bashful asking for another glass of wine. Her co-worker had already given me 2 and the meals hadn't come around yet.
"What? Are you sure that's it?" She must have sensed my hesitation.
"Well, some wine if you have some back there."
She came back a mintue later with a glass of wine and a 1.5 liter bottle of water. "There you go. .. What is that?" she said looking down at my seat.
"Oh? This? Um." I hesitated. "It's a flask." I thought I might have been breaking some sort of rule bringing my own liquor onto the plane.
"What is in it? Cognac?"
"No. Whiskey?"
"Ok. I will fill it up for you. Before I could even feign interest in stopping her she had grabbed the flask and marched to the back room.
After a while she must have tired of running back and forth to get me wine because she came by and set and unopened bottle of wine on the empty seat next to me and said, You seem thirsty."
Posted by calculatoronfire at May 31, 2005 08:40 PM
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