The Air Stewardesses' Footmen Ch. 03

Air hostess Deborah called out politely, "Cabin Crewman Terry! Cabin Crewman Darren! Excuse me. When your flight supervisors have released you, would you come over here, both of you, please? If you don't mind? That would be very good of you."

Senior Stewardess Donna sighed and said, "Debs, really. You are much too soft with the cabin crewmen. How do you hope to make your promotion to Senior Stewardess? Debs, you will need to prove yourself. Regardless of rank, it is important to assert yourself over your male colleagues. Imperative, that you impose your will on the cabin crewmen. You will have to stand your ground, brook no challenge, invite no backchat - especially with your goddess's looks, Debs. The cabin crewmen who drool over you here at work and fantasise about you at home in their unmade beds will not take you seriously as a figure of authority unless you spit fire at them."

"Oh, I don't know, Donna. I usually find that cabin crewmen do what I ask them to do if I ask them nicely."

"Yes, perhaps, Debs. But Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson doesn't want her Senior Stewardesses to ask cabin crewmen nicely. Ms Lawson wants her Senior Stewardesses not only willing to stamp down on cabin crewmen who get out of line but to intimidate them, deter them from getting lazy or uppity in the first place. So, Debs, all I am saying is that you should have spoken to Terry and Darren more sternly, put some steel in your voice and just ordered them over here to your presence authoritatively. I mean, to set the right tone. So they know who the boss is."

Air hostess Deborah said, "All right, Donna, I get the message. But I have to say, I have always found Terry highly agreeable. All of the hosties I know say the same: Terry is a reverently respectful gentleman. Terry's chivalry and gallantry set him apart from his colleagues, even the relatively agreeable cabin crewmen like Mason. I always want Terry to be working on my flight. Terry is ultra-polite and unfailingly obliging, a no-quibble cabin crewman who will never say no. Terry is always ready and waiting to do the least little thing for me."

"Yes, I'll grant you, you are absolutely right on that score, Debs," agreed Senior Stewardess Donna. "Admittedly, the standard stern stance is not necessary with Terry. Terry didn't need the COO's new Subservience to Stewardesses directive to tell him how to behave towards his female colleagues. Terry's agreeability is already second to none. And sometimes, indeed, his agreeability is over-agreeable! Terry already knows perfectly well who the collective boss is: all of his female counterparts. Terry is unusual. Terry is a stand-out exception in that I have never needed to rebuke him, never had any reason for reproach. On the contrary. I have always found Terry extremely dependable and very personable; in fact, I would even go so far as to say he is likeable. Terry is that rarest of rarities: a top-notch, first-rate cabin crewman."

Air hostess Pamela said, "I think we are all agreed that Terry is a quality cabin crewman. Terry could make it to Senior Steward at any airline but ours. But I think it says everything about Terry that he chose to stay on and stand by his air hostess colleagues in his disimproved capacity as a revised-contracted cabin crewman. That he stayed, rather than walk out and leave us high and dry today along with ninety-plus per cent of his money-grabbing erstwhile colleagues, who took the COO's big fat pay-off cheque to depart with their dignity intact."

Senior Stewardess Donna said, "You are so right, Pam. This afternoon, I sat at the sign-up desk with Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson, and Terry was first in the queue to sign on the dotted line. Ms Lawson told me she was very impressed with Terry - and that says a lot. Ms Lawson is not easy to please, quick to find fault with cabin crewmen. Some of the better cabin crewmen like Mason tick two of my three boxes. Terry is the stand-alone who ticks all of my three boxes: he is unfailingly obedient, always does high-quality work, and his manner when dealing with troublesome passengers is faultlessly tactful and invariably effective. An awkward holidaymaker, an over-tipsy tourist troubling me or one of my stewardesses, I know I can depend on the soothingly diplomatic Terry to go and deal with them for me. And Terry can never do enough for me personally. I can rely on him to run any errand, can count on him to do any favour, big or small. So yes, the standard stern stance can be relaxed to a certain degree with Terry. But, Debs, with cabin crewmen like Darren, who is devoid of social graces and bent upon doing the absolute bare minimum in-flight, you just have to put your foot down because it doesn't work to be polite. Darren does not tick any of my three boxes. Darren is disrespectful to his flight supervisors, there is much room for improvement in his work standards, and his manner when dealing with passengers can be and must be improved upon. And Darren will never do a thing for us, personally. Darren is not the type who will bend over backwards to please us. The coarse and uncouth Darren and those of his ilk perceive civil politeness as sure signs of weakness. That is why it is always best to adopt a hard face and an uncompromising manner."

I thought Senior Stewardess Donna had called it correctly. Simply put: Terry was agreeable, and Darren was disagreeable.

Darren was a lads' lad. All for having a laugh and going for a pint, and he got along okay with his cabin crewman colleagues. But he did not interact so well with his female counterparts, particularly the Senior Stewardesses. It irked Darren when his female flight supervisors exerted their authority over him. And Darren's challenging demeanour and borderline-cooperative attitude to order-taking made it easy for his flight supervisors to harden their hearts to him and put their foot down.

Finally released by their flight supervisors, Jasmine and Amelia, Terry and Darren approached us, their company logoed corporate colour sky-blue, one-foot square, one-inch thick foam-rubber kneeling mats in their hands.

Terry had a spring in his step, almost breaking into a run in his eagerness to find out what air hostess Deborah might want of him.

Darren, though, trudged forward reluctantly, full of misgivings. Unhappily for him, Darren's trouble-sensing antennae had twitched too late.

"Yes?" Terry inquired pleasantly. "What can I do for you, Miss Deborah?"

I looked askance at Terry.

The respectful designation 'Miss' was the cabin crewman's customary address to his female flight supervisor when aboard an aircraft. This was the first time I had heard a cabin crewman accord the subordinate salutation to an air hostess of supposedly equal standing.

Having just listened to air hostess Deborah's estimation and to Senior Stewardess Donna's own three-ticked-boxes assessment of Terry, I now had a much clearer understanding of why Terry wanted to keep his job.

And with the introduction today of the COO's new Subservience to Stewardesses directive to revised-contracted cabin crewmen, I perceived that Terry was signalling to air hostess Deborah his willing acceptance of his radically reduced status. Terry was indicating to Deborah his acknowledgement of his newly imposed subordinacy to his female counterparts; and that, moreover, he welcomed it. Implying, to Deborah, she could count upon his unfailing post-flight foot service agreeability.

But, while Terry was exceptionally agreeable, Darren was the antithesis of agreeability.

"What, Deborah?" demanded Darren sullenly. "What do you want?" he inquired peevishly. "Because if you are thinking of keeping me behind, you can forget it! Do you hear, Deborah? You can put that idea right out of your pretty little head! I was just about to put this dratted kneeling mat away. Because I've already done my bit! All right? I've given post-flight foot massages to Amelia and the four air hostesses on my crew - that's five air hostesses! Five! Okay? So now I want to go for a pint. And, after massaging all of those bossy air hostesses' stinky feet, I need one!"

Despite Senior Stewardess Donna's reminder of Darren's unamenable nature, air hostess Deborah's cheeks flushed pink at Darren's testy tirade. Evidently, Darren's surly outburst was not the sort of response Deborah was expecting to elicit from a revised-contracted cabin crewman.

It was beyond me how any cabin crewman could stand there with such jutted-chin challenge and talk so irreverently to dreamboat Deborah.

Apparently, Darren was not in-thrall of Deborah's goddess' looks, was not one of the cabin crewmen who drooled over Deborah at work and fantasised about her at home in his unmade bed.

Nonetheless, Darren had definitely overdone it with his ill-advised diatribe. He must really have been looking forward to that post-flight pint!

Air hostess Deborah regained her poise. But, polite as she was, Deborah still seemed riled enough to retort in the expletive-laden language Darren understood and, from habitual use, was masterfully fluent.

But then Deborah seemed to have second thoughts about lowering herself to Darren's level by communicating with her coarse and uncouth counterpart in his default industrial language.

And after all, why should air hostess Deborah even bother to shout Darren down? Deborah could resist resorting to tit-for-tat swearword trading and save herself the wasted effort of venting her outrage on the water-off-a-duck's-back Darren.

Instead, Deborah could denounce the diabolically disrespectful Darren in the Comments and Observations section of the flight supervisor's Cabin Crewman Conduct Report. Deborah could inform Ms Gina Summers of Darren's disagreeability - she could deal with him.

Apparently sensing Deborah's reticence to confront Darren, Senior Stewardess Donna gave Deborah a Leave-this-to-me sign. "Darren, you impertinent little pipsqueak! I will not tolerate your insolent tone. Nor your casual impudence. Cabin Crewman Darren, you owe air hostess Deborah your unreserved apologies - and she shall certainly have them! You had no excuse for your churlish outcry, no reason for your ridiculous rant. Deborah had said nothing other than to politely summon you to her presence. And you will, at all times from now on, speak respectfully to your air hostess colleagues - to all of whom you are now subordinate!"

"All right, Donna, all right. Keep your hair on. I get the message," said Darren dismissively. This sort of dressing down was nothing new to him.

But Senior Stewardess Donna was not going to be so easily deflected by Darren. "Frankly, I am bemused by your attitude, Darren. Given the acute precariousness of your revised-contracted cabin crewman's position, I would have thought you would be a lot keener to try and gather favour from fortunate opportunities like this. Situations when unexpectedly you find yourself able to oblige your footsore female counterparts, who may then put in a good word for you with the COO or even champion you to give you a layer of potentially job-saving insulation from her. But you are doing nothing at all to improve your situation and everything possible to worsen it. Your negative approach to post-flight foot service does not bode well for you. Darren, if you value your job and hope to hang on to it, then you should heed the excellent example of agreeability set by Cabin Crewman Terry. You need to understand that your continued employment is wholly dependant upon the continuing sufferance of your air hostess colleagues. Your job is hanging by a dangerously thinning thread - your position is precipitous as that, Darren. A flight supervisor's critical report, or even a word of dissatisfaction by an air hostess you displease, might influence the COO Ms Gina Summers to sever that last fragile fibre."

Darren had smirked all through Senior Stewardess Donna's rebuke, infuriating Donna. And now Darren escalated Donna's vexation with him by holding up mock-placatory palms, sardonically waving Donna down. "All right! I said, all right, Donna! Don't get your knickers in a twist. Calm yourself. What a trolley-dolly tantrum! So I spoke out of turn. All right then, I am sorry I spoke to Deborah that way. I shouldn't have. So no, Deborah hadn't said anything to me. But I thought she was going to. So, I got in first," said Darren self-justifiably, further incensing Donna. "But, all right, Donna. All right. I was out of order. Okay? I accept that. I admit it. But I've done my bit tonight! Can't you see that? I've done my bit! I've already massaged five air hostesses' feet! Five! Five post-flight foot massages. Come on, Donna! Be reasonable! Can't you just let a hardworking cabin crewman go and enjoy his well-earned pint? Have a heart, Donna! Five foot-massages should be enough! In fact, it was six; I massaged Amelia's feet twice!"

"Well, if you don't mind, we trolley-dollies who get our knickers in a twist want you to do just a little bit more," replied Senior Stewardess Donna. "But only if you don't mind. Purely voluntarily, of course. It is entirely your choice. But Darren, if you decline and choose to disoblige and disappoint us, I will have to record your disagreeability in my Cabin Crewman Conduct Report. It will reach the desk of our COO, Ms Gina Summers."

"But it's not fair!" complained Darren, his voice rising with every word in a hard-done-by wail. "I'm supposed to be meeting up with my mates for a game of pool in the pub! It's all arranged! And anyway, Donna, I've already done my bit tonight! Five air hostesses, I've foot-massaged! Five!"

Senior Stewardess Donna was unimpressed and unmoved, "Yes, Darren, so you keep on saying. But you know who to blame: your former colleagues who deserted in droves. It is the reason that you, revised-contracted cabin crewmen, are now spread so thin on the ground. Ungallant, unchivalrous, they all considered themselves above providing a post-flight foot massage for their footsore female counterparts. So now it falls incumbent upon you, Darren, to help compensate. For you and your last few remaining cabin crewman colleagues to step in and offset the resultant dearth of after-flight footmen."

Those last remarks of Donna's had left Darren open-mouthed speechless.

I recalled Ms Gina Summers voicing her concern to Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson that their 'voluntary redundancy' ploy had proved over-effective. Even they had not expected that ninety-plus per cent of cabin crewmen would resign on the spot.

Senior Stewardess Donna said, "Let me put it this way, Darren. When she summons you to her office after reading my Cabin Crewman Conduct Report, is that what you will say to Chief Operating Officer Ms Gina Summers? That you would so selfishly prioritise a late-night pint down the pub with your boozy pals, over providing post-flight foot massages for your footsore female counterparts and fulfilling what are after all your bounden duties now under the revised contract you signed today?"

"No," Darren said morosely. "All right, Donna. If you insist on putting it like that. If you are going to take that unreasonable attitude. All right. There's no need to go that far. You've made your point."

"Good, Darren. I'll assume you have finally come to your senses. But I have to say, I thought your indirect, so-called apology to air hostess Deborah left a lot to be desired. Well, it is for Deborah to decide whether to take action against you. But if you spoke to me like that, Cabin Crewman Darren, I would make you grovel to keep your job."

"Grovel? Grovel, Donna? Are you serious?" said Darren plaintively. "On my knees, I've followed the new rules tonight and kept my mouth shut while I performed foot massages for a succession of five air hostesses. Sitting on three chairs, like a queen and two princesses! Massaging the feet of one stewardess while two others waiting their turn on either side of her used my shoulders for footrests and dangled their pumps and wafted their foot stink in my face! And I told you: Senior Stewardess Amelia made me massage her feet twice. And why? Amelia said it was to test my agreeability! So, Donna, I've been grovelling for two solid hours!"

"And I'm sure your cooperation is duly appreciated," Senior Stewardess Donna said sardonically. "But in my opinion, you are already a lost cause, irredeemable as a satisfactory cabin crewman. And given your defiant attitude toward me and your obnoxious behaviour toward air hostess Deborah tonight, you are going to have to do something above and beyond merely satisfactory for us. That is if you are to have so much as an ice cube on a hotplate's chance of a good word from me, let alone prevent my strong recommendation for your instant dismissal to the COO Ms Gina Summers."

"I will have to do something above and beyond merely satisfactory? Donna, you are letting this new power of yours go to your head!"

Senior Stewardess Donna waved away Darren's disgruntled deprecations. Donna had reasserted her authority. "Darren, get to it. Cut the backchat, up the action. You've already had some foot massage tuition and, thanks to Senior Stewardess Amelia, some extra practice too. Let's hope you have absorbed lessons from the instruction and learned tips from the coaching given to you by Amelia and the four hosties on her crew. Let's put you to the test. You can put your newly acquired skills and improved technique to further use and attend air hostess Pamela. Mason will serve me. And, Terry? Perhaps you would you be good enough to administer a post-flight foot massage for air hostess Deborah?"

"Absolutely, I will, Miss Donna!" said Terry, grinning like an imbecile.

"Now, Darren. Please go and get three of those seats for me and air hostesses Pamela and Deborah."

Muttering grievously under his breath, Darren went to get three of the recently vacated stackable seats.

Senior Stewardess Donna said, "Mason, go and get your kneeling mat. It is personalised. It has your name on it, stencilled in black in the BlueSky Holidays font style. You will find it leaning up against your locker."

"Yes, Miss Donna," I said, following Terry's well-received lead of tacitly accepted new-era subordinacy to our female counterparts. I then went to the locker room to retrieve my regulation-issue personalised kneeling mat.

I returned to see that Darren had placed the three stackable seats in the same 'Queen-and-two-princesses' trio arrangement that I'd seen in operation earlier. So that Senior Stewardess Donna, centrally seated, could have air hostesses Pamela and Deborah sitting companionably on either side of her while each received their post-flight foot massage.

I stood ready with my corporate colour sky-blue, one-foot square, one-inch thick foam-rubber kneeling mat and waited for Senior Stewardess Donna to summon me forward to provide her post-flight foot massage.

I was a bag of nerves. But I would be compliant and follow Donna's instructions, and if Donna left me to it uninstructed while she used her phone or chatted to air hostess colleagues, I would continue on my initiative. So I hoped Donna wasn't expecting anything special from a compliant and cooperative but nonetheless fumbly-fingered beginner.

Senior Stewardess Donna now pointed to the floor just in front of her. "Mason, place your kneeling mat there, between Terry's and Darren's."

"Yes, Miss Donna," I said. And now I was kneeling before Senior Stewardess Donna. Darren was on my left on his kneeling mat, facing air hostess Pamela; on my right, Terry knelt before air hostess Deborah.

Senior Stewardess Donna stretched out her dark nyloned left leg, and the scuffed and scratched sole of her well-worn uniform pump was barely an inch from my face. "Mason, start with my left foot. Take off my shoe."

I had never performed a foot massage. Not even for my girlfriend, Gemma. But then, Gemma usually came home with dirty feet from going barefoot at the local big-chain DIY superstore where she worked. And she only took her shower after her after-work relaxation ritual: watching the early evening soaps. So Gemma obliged me to sit there and look at her dirty feet, which she would heel-pop and dangle from her well-worn black leather work flats. Gemma, sitting at one end of our three-seat sofa and me at the other. Gemma, one flat-shod foot planted on the centre cushion and the calf of her other leg resting on her upraised knee, and the bottom of her workplace-floor begrimed heel protruding from her black leather flat, which in her amusement with the soap scenarios she would swing in my eye line with the TV. So, hardly conducive to prompt my offer to Gemma of an after-work foot massage, however much I adored my sweet one.