SOS call
I AM WORKING in the back galley of my airplane. There is always something to do even if it’s not time for a beverage or a meal service. Drawers need to be organized, carts restocked, supplies arranged, metal counters and surfaces wiped down. I try to keep things as neat and clean as possible even though it’s difficult with many flight attendants sharing the workspace and hundreds of passengers needing food, snacks, drinks perhaps multiple times depending on the length of the flight.
The fact that two lavatories are right next to the galley area doesn’t help. The entire flight, there are always passengers waiting for a vacant lav. Sometimes there’s a line that spills into the galley. There is limited space to stand, little room to wait.
It annoys us greatly when passengers step into our galley and stretch, exercise, perform yoga poses. Sometimes we flight attendants have only a few minutes to gulp a drink, wolf down a sandwich, grab what’s leftover from the service or eat what we brought from home. There is so little space and to perch on a jumpseat, eating or drinking with a passenger’s butt in your face while they Salute the Sun is incredibly rude.
A man carrying a toddler steps into my galley. He is murmuring soothing words to his child who is fretful, tearful, sniffling and coughing. The kid is obviously sick. Daddy is rocking side-to-side and the kid is reaching out, grabbing and touching anything within reach of his little hands, his grubby, germy, snotty little hands. He is touching everything, the galley curtain, the latches on the carts, the supply carriers, the metal counter surface.
The child coughs a barking, rattling cough, spewing droplets in my direction. I back away and offer the dad a tissue as I ask him to please stop his son from touching the carts and carriers. Some of the metal surfaces are rough, he could cut his little fingers. The father is oblivious as the child continues touching everything he can grab. “Your little passenger is in distress,” the father explains. “He has a cold. I don’t want the people sitting near us to get sick.”
Great, I think. What about the flight attendants?? Come back here, wipe your nose, touch everything, sneeze without covering your mouth. I can’t afford to get sick. I’m saving my PPT, my personal paid time, to use with my vacation days, a trip to Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos planned in a few weeks.
I turn away, pick up the interphone and secretively call the flight deck. With my hand covering the handset, I quietly ask the pilot who answers the phone to please turn on the fasten seatbelt sign as I can’t get passengers out of my galley. He complies. The chime sounds, the fasten seatbelt sign illuminates throughout the cabin, the pilot makes an announcement. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re getting reports of some light turbulence ahead so we’re turning on the seatbelt sign. We’d like everyone to return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.”
I turn to the father and his sick kid. I smile sweetly, if insincerely, and say, “I’m so sorry, you’ll have to go back to your seat. It’s going to get bumpy. The captain has turned on the fasten seatbelt sign.” The man sneers at me. “You told him to do that. I saw you call him.”
I smile and close the galley curtain behind him.