The Air Stewardesses' Footmen Ch. 02

Ch. 2 (of 6) The Affliction Common to Air Hostesses.

Headed for Departure Gate 5, I walked a deferential two paces behind my redesignated flight supervisor, Senior Stewardess Donna Didsbury.

Senior Stewardess Donna was a young woman with a lot to appreciate. Donna looked great in her BlueSky Holidays uniform, and the perfect finishing touch was her long dark hair put up in the way many air hostesses favoured for its chic elegance as well as its practicality.

At first, I admired Donna's figure, the way she filled out her uniform sky-blue blouse and above-the-knee skirt, and I appreciated the shapeliness of her dark nyloned calves. It was the sort of view I'd enjoyed many times before, deferentially following at the heels of my female flight supervisor and my air hostess colleagues.

But as Donna walked along the corridor, my eyes were drawn downwards to her uniform black three-inch heel pump shod feet.

I watched Donna's every step, and I listened to the click-clacking sounds of her heels on the smooth concrete floor, echoing in the corridor to Donna's businesslike stride.

These sights and sounds were familiar, seen and heard countless times before. And yet ...

I realised this new perception was aroused in me by Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson. Her words were still resounding in my mind:

"If I were to show you the bare soles of my feet, you would see what a twenty-year career of both short-haul and long-haul air hostessing in attractive but unforgiving uniform three-inch heel pumps has done to them."

Over her shoulder, Senior Stewardess Donna said, "Mason, you are shaving off about an hour of duty time, working on my Madeira flight instead of your original Cyprus flight under Camilla."

Yes, I knew. And I had to restrain myself from punching the air in jubilation at my good fortune; such changes almost always went against me. And not only had I benefited by an hour but, better still, I had got out of working under Camilla. And I had just sent a text message to my girlfriend Gemma at work, telling her that we would be able to go to the pub tonight for a late drink.

Gemma worked regular daytime hours behind the counter at our local big-chain DIY superstore. So the irregular hours and the unpredictable delays that went with the territory of my job as a cabin crewman was an ongoing sore point with her because our social arrangements were subject to late cancellations. And Gemma was a light sleeper, and so annoying for her too, was when I came home from work very late and disturbed her.

So I knew this unexpected early-finish news would be well received by Gemma. And she'd responded right away. Her texted reply: 'This makes a nice change! I'll look forward to it!'

"Yes, Senior Stewardess Donna. Thank you," I said.

"Well, Mason, I was thinking ... To demonstrate that you are taking the COO's new Subservience to Stewardesses directive to heart, would you like to make up the one-hour shortfall by staying behind to give post-flight foot massages to some of our later returning air hostesses?"

I recalled the exact wording of BlueSky Holidays Chief Operating Officer Ms Gina Summers, spelling out her new Subservience to Stewardesses directive requirements for revised-contracted cabin crewmen. And also, Ms Gina Summers' personal warning to me:

"You had better remember your contractual commitments. I shall be monitoring you, looking for solid evidence of reform in your attitude."

Well, this put paid to my late drink or two down at the pub with Gemma. I should have known better than to send that text message; rather than risk disappointing her, it would have been better to spring a pleasant surprise. But there was no time now to send Gemma another message. Senior Stewardess Donna and I were about to board the aircraft, so I would have to text the annoying news as soon as I got back to Gatwick tonight.

Gemma wasn't going to be happy. This would come as another irksome disappointment, adding to the long list of late let-downs. But at least I shouldn't be home very late, disturbing Gemma's sleep. So, sighing inwardly in resignation, I said, "I would be delighted, Senior Stewardess Donna."

"Excellent! And, of course, it's entirely up to you, Mason, but if you want to stay behind a bit longer, you might even get into Camilla's good books. Camilla and her crew should be back in our crew room by about half-past midnight. After their flight to Cyprus, their feet will be killing them."

I recalled what I'd overheard of Senior Stewardess Donna's phone conversation just moments ago with Senior Stewardess Camilla:

"Camilla, tell whoever is on Stand-by to operate on your flight: BH501 to Paphos. Cabin Crewman Mason Mallard is now working under me on flight BH529 to Funchal ... Yes, I know it means you will now be without a cabin crewman on your flight."

Camilla was outraged at Donna's telling her that she was usurping me to serve on her flight. But of course, I knew the real reason for Camilla's ire.

Another inward sigh. If only I had withheld that text message. Because Gemma wasn't going to like this. How was I going to account for letting her down? The reason for prioritising the later returning air hostesses' post-flight foot massage over her much looked-forward-to late drink at the pub. The explanation for coming home late again and ruining her night's rest. The answer: Because rather than risk running out of the COO's severance pay/quit-quietly money before I could find another job and had to go back to being Gemma's domiciliary drudge to compensate her for not paying my fair share of the bills, I had consented to be revised-contracted. Agreed, to abide by the COO Ms Gina Summers' new Subservience to Stewardesses directive for cabin crewmen.

As if to enforce the point that I had no choice but to comply agreeably, Senior Stewardess Donna's cautionary words of advice rang in my ears:

"Understandably, you are anxious about your position; your existentially threatened future here. But let me mitigate your misgivings. You are endangered, yes. But not unprotected, if you are from now on a shining example of my version of a model cabin crewman. Am I making myself clear to you, Mason; am I getting through to you?"

Senior Stewardess Donna had indeed made herself clear to me; she had got through to me. I knew what Donna expected of me now as a revised-contracted cabin crewman: post-flight foot rubs.

The cabin crewman's new watchword was 'Agreeability'. I had to live up to it. And so, hoping the dawning realisation of what I had let myself in for in signing my revised contract wasn't noticeable in my voice, I said, "It will be my pleasure, Senior Stewardess Donna."

"That's the attitude! Outstanding agreeability! Cabin crewmen are very thin on the ground now. And so another pair of hands in the crew room tonight won't go amiss. Now come on, Mason. Hurry! We'll soon be cleared for take-off."

Oh, and whose fault was that; that male cabin crew were now so thin on the ground? I thought but didn't say.

And, I mused: I've already been cleared for take-off.

Cleared: to take off the uniform black three-inch heel pumps of Senior Stewardess Donna and her crew and other later returning air hostesses, such as Camilla, to perform their after-flight foot rub.

***

Senior Stewardess Donna and I arrived at Departure Gate 5 to find that all the passengers were now aboard Flight BH529 to Funchal.

Donna and I were last to board the aircraft and, moments later, we were taxiing to the runway. Then the jetliner gathered speed, and we were leaving the dismal grey skies of Gatwick behind us.

Captain Amanda Mandelson's voice came over the PA system. She welcomed BlueSky Holidays passengers aboard, wished them all a pleasant fight, informed them that the weather was warm and sunny in Madeira and they would arrive at Funchal to enjoy it in about four hours.

At BlueSky Holidays, the number of female pilots and flight engineers on the books since the female headhunting and male head-chopping Chief Operating Officer Ms Gina Summers' appointment two years ago had risen from less than ten per cent to over fifty per cent. Under Ms Summers' leadership, the trend was set to continue.

Waiting for the ping to sound to let us know it was safe to undo our safety belts, I sat quietly, thinking glumly about my upcoming unwinnable argument with Gemma: the justification for signing my revised contract. No amount of sweet-talking would win Gemma around on this one.

To divert my mind from my gloomy introspection, I listened to the passing-the-time chat of Senior Stewardess Donna and the other four air hostesses. Today my four female counterparts were air hostesses Deborah, Pamela, Analise and Julie.

I'd worked with all five of them many times before, and they were all great to get along with. Which couldn't be said for when I worked under Senior Stewardess Camilla Cameron when my female counterparts were Camilla's cronies.

Senior Stewardess Donna and air hostesses Deborah, Pamela, Analise and Julie chatted about shoes, clothes, make-up, the latest goings-on in their favourite TV soaps, and boyfriend issues. My ears pricked up when their discussion turned to the amount of triple-pay overtime with extra travel concessions they planned to work during the staff shortage occasioned by the 'voluntary redundancy' earlier today of over ninety per cent of cabin crewmen. This was their hot topic.

It got me thinking, too, about the amount of double-shift working and extra Stand-by duties I might have to do during the staff shortage until enough of the new air hostesses defecting from their present airlines arrived and settled in at BlueSky Holidays.

The safety belt ping sounded. And so now I was released from my revised contract ruminations and relieved of my female counterparts' passing-the-time chat and triple-time bonanza/bonus travel concessions conversation. It was time to get to work.

Senior Stewardess Donna unbuckled herself in the crew seat next to me. "First things first, Mason. Please take two regular black coffees and a decaf black coffee to the flight deck for Mandy, Polly and Denise. I'll intercom them to say you'll be along shortly."

Mandy, Polly and Denise were Captain Amanda Mandelson, First Officer Polly Palmer and Flight Engineer Denise Davis.

Aboard an aircraft, the norm was for BlueSky Holidays cabin crewmen to address their flight supervisor as 'Miss' instead of 'Senior Stewardess'.

"I'm on it, Miss Donna," I replied and headed to the galley.

I got busy fixing up the three coffees as instructed. And to my tray, I added the three caterer-supplied cellophane-wrapped sandwiches - a tuna-mayonnaise, a ham-and-cheese, and a roast-beef - that I knew Captain Amanda, First Officer Polly, and Flight Engineer Denise favoured.

I knew, too, that the Chief Operating Officer of BlueSky Holidays, Ms Gina Summers, was aboard this flight to Funchal.

Ms Summers was jetting out on a three-day stay to assess the staff, test the sport and leisure facilities, and critique the restaurants at our affiliated newly opened hotel complex on Madeira in the Azores. And, no doubt, to test the poolside sun loungers to top up her gorgeous golden tan.

I recalled Ms Summers' droll words earlier to Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson: "Hard work, but someone has to do it." And Ms Lawson's wry reply: "Yes, Gina, I'm sure. I only wish I could come along to assist you."

But Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson was too busy now to assist Ms Gina Summers with her poolside sunbathing - Ms Lawson would be putting Personnel through their paces, initiating her air hostess recruitment programme. Ms Lawson needed to replace the ninety-plus per cent of cabin crewmen she and Ms Summers had so successfully induced to quit with their latest ploy: the Subservience to Stewardesses directive.

And now, as I reached the front of the aircraft with my tray of coffees and sandwiches, I discovered where Ms Gina Summers was sitting; she was hard to miss. With her beautiful long platinum blonde hair, Ms Gina Summers was the instantly recognisable figurehead of BlueSky Holidays. She was seated in the port-side window seat in the front row: 1A.

I considered asking Ms Summers if I could get her anything. But, remembering my overattentive/special-treatment dilemma earlier, I decided against it. Although, that might be a mistake as well. So, as a way of letting Ms Summers know that I was here for her if she wanted anything, I settled on giving the COO my best smile and, because my hands were occupied with my tray and so I could not give her a cheerful wave, I gave her a cheery nod. Ms Summers, though, did not smile back or nod either but regarded me in cool appraisal.

I tapped on the cockpit door, my usual knock. Seconds later, it was opened by Captain Amanda Mandelson. "Mason, you sweetie!" exclaimed Captain Amanda when she saw the tuna-mayonnaise sandwich I'd brought her. "Just what I need! No one looks after Flight Deck girls like you do. Mason: you are a cabin crewman in a million!"

Sitting at the cockpit controls, First Officer Polly Palmer said over her shoulder, "No, Mandy - he's now a cabin crewman in a dozen. One of just six left at Gatwick. And from now on, Mason and the other few remaining cabin crewmen will be looking after their air hostess colleagues extremely well - with a post-flight foot massage!"

Captain Amanda said, "Oh, yes! We've just heard! Ms Gina Summers summoned all cabin crewmen to attend a meeting at our Gatwick HQ without saying why, and then you had to make a snap, yes-or-no decision on the proposals put to you by Ms Summers. Well? Are you regretting your choice now, Mason?"

Knowing that Ms Gina Summers was sitting well within listening distance in seat 1A and that it was a fair bet she would be eavesdropping, I said, "No, not at all, Captain Amanda."

"Mason! You could have accepted a generous severance pay settlement to walk away today and join another airline, but you've opted to stay. You've just signed a revised contract, agreeing to honour the COO's new Subservience to Stewardesses directive to cabin crewmen. Well, believe me when I tell you your air hostess colleagues have now got you right where they want you. Don't you see? This is the thin end of the wedge! You are contractually bound to perform post-flight foot massages for female cabin crew - but it won't stop there. Emboldened by the Subservience to Stewardesses directive, your newly empowered female counterparts will expect you to perform foot massages for them not only post-flight but on-demand - and you will have to submit to their anytime-requests not only readily with good grace but pleasantness personified if you want to keep your job. Are you ready for that? Because I would estimate that more than ninety-five per cent of air hostesses returning from flight duty will want to avail themselves of this wonderful new cabin crewman-provided benefit. I know I would. Mason, I can tell you this: I would take every possible advantage of you."

I recalled Senior Stewardess Donna's words to me just earlier, before we boarded the aircraft:

"And a major aspect of what Ms Gina Summers has achieved today with the introduction of her Subservience to Stewardesses initiative is the dream of air hostesses worldwide: The empowerment to command a cabin crewman to administer a post-flight foot massage."

Hopeful of impressing Chief Operating Officer Ms Gina Summers with my agreeability, I paraphrased Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson.

"Well, Captain Amanda, it won't hurt, will it, to be agreeable? For cabin crewmen to be gallant, to do whatever we can to relieve our female colleagues' foot discomfort upon returning from flight duty." For good measure, I added, "And maybe this post-flight provision of cabin crewmen should have begun years ago - even made a precondition of employment."

I'd thought nothing would come of my female-favouring remarks, but they might impress Ms Gina Summers.

But Captain Amanda exclaimed, "What? Do you think so, Mason? How incredibly uplifting: a sympathetic cabin crewman! Our COO's new Subservience to Stewardesses directive to cabin crewmen has come too late to benefit me; my air hostessing days are over. But I am delighted for today's hosties. I hope they appreciate how lucky they are. Because, before you know it, they will all be taking the new post-flight foot services of revised-contracted cabin crewmen for granted; become nonchalant about such a wonderful service available from today, that could only be wishfully dreamed of yesterday."

First Officer Polly said over her shoulder, "Mandy, I know that as a former air hostess yourself, you have a real bee in your bonnet about this. Denise and I know this is a vexed issue for you, and there is no stopping you once you are allowed to get going on this subject. Well, pictures speak louder than words, as it were. So, why don't you show Mason your feet?"

This conversation was taking an increasingly discomfiting turn.

I glanced back at our COO, Ms Gina Summers, hoping now that she wasn't listening. But she was, and openly, with no pretence of eavesdropping. And clearly, she had been listening to every word. All of this would be more info for her folder, more data for her dossier on me - and all of it gleaned first-hand.

Flight Engineer Denise got up from her seat and came over to relieve Captain Amanda of the tray of coffees and sandwiches I'd brought them. "Thanks, Mason; you are a lifesaver," Flight Engineer Denise told me. "You'll keep us supplied with coffee? One of them a decaf, for me?"

"Of course, Flight Engineer Denise. It will be my pleasure, as always. Just intercom Senior Stewardess Donna or one of the other air hostesses, and they will pass on your requirements to me as usual."

The female Flight Deck Officers uniform consisted of a black jacket and black trousers, white shirt, black tie, and the same black three-inch heel pumps that the air hostesses wore. Dark nylons were optional.

Captain Amanda Mandelson's feet were bare, I now saw as she slipped her lightly tanned feet from her uniform black three-inch heel pumps and displayed to me her bright-red painted toes.

"You see, Mason? The tops of my feet look reasonably okay, wouldn't you say? In fact, I am quite proud of their appearance. But my soles are a very different story ... look."

Captain Amanda turned her back to me and, holding her trouser cuff above her ankle, she displayed to me the bare sole of her left foot.

"As I told you, Mason, I used to be a hostie. I was a BlueSky Holidays air hostess for five years, the last two years as a Senior Stewardess. That was the highest rung on the promotion ladder for me. But I was ambitious and wanted to achieve more. So I began to consider a career change - to something easier on my feet! But two years ago, everything changed with the arrival of the new COO, Ms Gina Summers. Ms Summers was the forward-thinking new broom who swept the boardroom of the stuck-in-their-ways musty old men who had long overstayed their tenure. And I was one of the first to benefit. Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson was able to use her new executive-power influence to persuade the new all-female boardroom to reconsider my request for the pilot training I'd applied for a year earlier but had been flatly rejected under the old all-male boardroom. And this time, my application to be assessed for pilot training was approved. And that set the ball rolling. Other air hostesses followed my lead and applied to be considered for flight deck training. Like me, they are now pilots too, or well advanced in their instruction to be a pilot or a flight engineer. In the last two years, quite a few female pilots, like First Officer Polly here, who flew for MedClub18-21, have left their airlines to join BlueSky Holidays because they want to work for Ms Gina Summers."