NINE
In a London theatre we sat in a row for the stand up comedy of Pam Ann. She toured the world performing her routine that lampooned the idiosyncrasies of the world’s airlines. Her biggest fans of course, were airline crews. Watching her performance, I suddenly recognised so many of the crew’s in-jokes that had been taken from her routine and its characters. A regular bunch of Tanya’s crew had planned the night out and paid for it from a stolen credit card. They cackled as Pam Ann, dressed in a retro uniform and bouffant hair threw meals at her ‘economy’ audience. They screeched in hysterics as she poured ‘hot coffee’ while simulating turbulence and ‘burning off’ a passenger’s face. Her impression of a Singaporean flight attendant combined every Asian stereotype known to man, bordering on blatant racism without wit. Naturally, the crew cackled louder than ever. There seemed to be a completion between Simon and Vince, another vain tall flight attendant with undeniable good looks. If Simon wanted to be the pinnacle of blonde and blue eyed, Vince was the poster boy for dark and handsome. The louder Vince laughed, the louder Simon needed to be. If Vince gave a shrieking laugh, Simon was gave one of a higher pitch. Like a peacock showing its feathers, it was a war over who could be the most animated with the most outrageous personality.
After the show, they headed to a pub in a back street off Lester Square. I decided to take the tube back to the hotel, causing to Tanya to squint her eyes in suspicion. I could have afforded a taxi, but I preferred the train. I wanted to feel anonymous and take my time getting lost in my own thoughts. It would be far more peaceful than listening to Simon and Vince trying to outdo each other all night. On the London Underground, with so much of the original design and infrastructure in place, I imagined it was a century earlier and for a moment I could be someone else. Sure, things were not easy a century ago, but I would not mind participating in a time travel exchange program, to try out someone else’s troubles for a day. I could have Battled Westminster for the vote, or go to the Bank of England to buy war bonds. In my head it all sounded more exciting and more useful, and less shameful than life in the cabin with my colleagues.
The delicate voice over the speaker announced our arrival at Covent Garden. A young couple sitting opposite me who had been entwined in a public display of affection jumped up and left. I looked down at my shoes I’d bought with money that was not mine. I kept my head down, looking at all the other shoes that walked passed me as new passengers boarded and found a seat. I wondered if they had paid for their won shoes.
I looked up toward the seat vacated by the young lovers. It was Mags. Dressed in a thick coat, her hair covered by a hat suited to the cold weather above ground.
“Mags, Oh my God! What are you doing here.”
“Liz! I didn’t even see you there.”
We both laughed. I stood up and moved over to her side of the carriage and sat beside her. We gave each other a physically awkward hug from the seated position.
“When are you leaving?” I asked.
“Tomorrow.”
“Yeh, me too. The late one.”
“I’m on the early one.”
We chatted about all manner of things as station after station slid by. Occasionally someone would look over at us and quickly look away.
“Oh, looks like we’re the only ones talking.” Said Mags.
“Yeh, I noticed nobody talks on the tube. You can be crammed in, smooshed up with all of humanity and everyone adopts the thousand mile stare.”
“Maybe that explains the looks we’re getting. We’re not exactly conforming right now.”
“I reckon so.” I said.
“Anyway I don’t want to talk about work and you probably don’t want to either, but how are things?”
“Yeh it’s cool we can talk shop for a bit. There’s no escaping it anyway, and I don’t want to be in denial.” I said.
“What do you mean?” She asked.
“Ah its nothing. Just.. Well, I’m trying to make the most of it here, but its not exactly turning out how I planned it. Did I make the right choice in joining the company?” I shrugged my shoulders. “Guess we have too many choices. I mean who wouldn’t want to get paid to travel around the world like us?”
“Yes,” She said, “but we know it’s not really like what the average John Q Public sees. And you’re right. We are the generation of too many choices. It’s a curse and a blessing at the same time. In any other time we’d be fighting a war right now.”
“Yeh, true. But do you think those generations were happier or not?”
“No idea Lizard. Stop thinking about these things and enjoy what you can.”
“Don’t you start with the whole lizard thing. How’d you know they call me that anyway?”
“Don’t know, probably crew talk.”
“Anyway, enough shop talk.”
“Well I’m heading back home soon on an upcoming trip, so hopefully I can see the family on the layover.” She said.
“Oh good.”
“I can’t wait, actually. I just hope everything stays under control til then.”
We got off at our station and headed to the hotel. The air was cold and crisp. At the hotel entrance we stopped just before the revolving door. Through the glass, I could see the crew standing in the lobby, jerking back and forth laughing.
“That’s my bunch there.”
“I see, hey I’m just going to dash into the 7-11 for a moment before I go in.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No, you go on up. I’ll be two seconds. Trust me I’m not going to get mugged, it’s twenty feet away. It’s cold go up.”
“Okay. See you soon.”
We hugged and said goodbye.
“Hey you. Where did you get to?” Said Vince.
“I went for a walk around town and bumped into Mags on the train.”
“Who?”
“Mags. She’s crew.” I said, causing Simon and Vince to exchange looks of confusion.
“Don’t know her,” said Vince, as if it was important that he should know everyone.
“American? Dark hair?”
“Honey we’re all pretty,” said Vince.
“Never mind.