I was a TWA flight attendant back in the early 70s. Of all the interesting and in some cases, shocking, experiences I had on flights, one stands out. It was on a homebound flight from New York to San Francisco and I would love to share it with you.
At that time, passengers were still offered a choice of chicken or steak for their meal. So, when you combine taking individual orders, cooking, manning the drink cart, cleanup, and the normal airline paperwork, I’m sure you can appreciate just how busy the in-flight service was for us.
The flight attendants, almost entirely women, were often hit on by male passengers who had too much to drink. As a rule, flights (at that time) had a 2-drink limit. Of course, if there were extenuating circumstances, like planes stacked over an airport for an hour or more waiting to land, captains were known to open the bar to soften the wait. (This always got us an apology from the captain …)
What we knew and passengers didn’t realize was the high altitude will turn each drink into a double. The 2-drink limit can fast create a 4-drink playboy. Now add extenuating circumstances and a drunk is born …
Male passengers and alcohol didn’t mix too well. They didn’t seem to understand, or they didn’t care, that most of us were serious about our jobs. We had a lot to do in a limited amount of time. Besides, rarely did any of us ever date a passenger.
I spent most of the flight fending off a drunk playboy who was sitting in an aisle seat. He had become especially fond of patting my rear end as I passed his seat in my section of coach. He had already embarrassed me once by pulling me down into his lap and his bravado amused his two seat mates.
That was shady and rude, but I’ll tell you what took the grand prize for shady and rude —at least on that flight on that day.
Dinner was over and I was busy collecting the used dinner trays. When I retrieved the trays from playboy and his two seat buddies, his tray had a room key to a major San Francisco hotel and a $100 bill was sticking out from under a napkin beside his plate.
(I thought I had seen everything. Obviously, I had not …)
I dropped off the used dinner trays in the galley, and then stood at the front of the coach cabin, waved the key and the $100 bill high in the air, and shouted:
“It seems someone lost their hotel key and money! If they belong to YOU, you can get them from the Captain at the door as you’re leaving the plane.”
-*-
Note: I wondered, how did he have a room key for a hotel in San Francisco? I figured he was a businessman using the hotel as a base. He flew to meet clients, then flew back again. Just my guess …
Published Poet/Writer/Author of 5 books.
Quora Top Writer 2018
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I loved this story so much, you handled that brilliantly 🩷