Sunday, October 10, 2010

Jumpseat Therapy

The flight attendant jumpseat.  It's the pull-down, ass-flattening, back-breaking "seat" we're required to sit on for take-offs and landings...and it's the most uncomfortable thing my bootay has ever had to meet.  You passengers think you're uncomfortable? There is no reclining for us, no resting of the arms, and the worst part, besides the fact that they are so close to the lavatories that I can smell and hear business being done, yes, the worst part is that I have to share my seat with another, sometimes rather portly FA with no option to switch, even if I wanted to...and most of the time, I really, like really want to. It can be incredibly awkward...or absolutely fascinating.

I think the jumpseat possesses superpowers.  Or more like, spewerpowers. You sit a flight attendant on that thing, and they spew out shit like the BP oil spill. I'm telling you, personal, personal 'I'm trying not to judge you but I totally am' kinda shit. I bet if you Googled "TMI", flight attendants are somewhere in the search results. We joke that it's 'free therapy' and it probably happens because there is safety in anonymity...in knowing that if I'm told you're cheating on your husband with a baggage handler in Dallas or the inner details of your struggles with Irritable Bowel Syndrome on the airplane, I won't give a fuck and I probably won't see you again for a couple of months or even years even if I did give a fuck. So verbal diarrhea ensues a lot on the J/S...I admit to it. Yeah, I've leaked some personal information (still kicking myself for telling blabbermouth Barb how I have all of Hanson's albums on my iPod currently) out of boredom to an almost complete stranger. When you're stuck and there's no one else to talk to but eachother, when you're tired of bitching about the flight at hand and company matters, have eaten all the left-overs, & have read and re-read all the newspapers and magazines we hoard, we tend to spill out our deepest, darkest secrets.  I know some shit ya'll...yes I do, and I think I'm decently good at keeping secrets, but get me on that J/S, and man, I'll tell you all that shit...that I know.

 'MmmBop ba duba dop, ba du bop........'

3 comments:

  1. well I could of told Barb about that if you wanted me to. and I agree with your crocs post...except on two year olds who can not put on there own shoes and socks....then crocs are my best friend.

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  2. LOVE. So true. I think the best chat I ever had on the jumpseat was about vag waxing. Very intriguing stuff.

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  3. Cheating on your husband with a bag handler in dallas.."African men are "blahhh blahh" Must be JACKIE..eww

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