The Air Stewardesses' Footmen Ch. 03

Terry, almost shoulder-to-shoulder with me on my right, said, "Can I say, Miss Donna, before I observe silence... Miss Jasmine and the four air hostesses on her crew have taught me a few rudiments tonight about foot massage - or, as Miss Jasmine calls it: reflexology. I would like to build on the basics of their beginners'-guide. And so, Miss Donna, thank you for inviting me to stay on with Cabin Crewman Mason to attend to you and your remaining air hostess crew to benefit from your further tuition. And I am happy to do so for as long as might be required, as I am not only keen to improve my technique but eager to expand my range of abilities."

"Thank you, Terry. You are very agreeable."

"And if you like, Miss Donna, as I have already arranged with Miss Jasmine and Miss Amelia and the eight other air hostesses on their crews, I will clean and polish your after-shift pumps for you."

Senior Stewardess Donna said, "Terry, am I hearing you correctly? Are you freely offering to clean and polish our uniform pumps?"

"Yes. I will perform that small service for you and gladly, Miss Donna. So, to save yourselves a tiresome task and from getting your hands dirty, if you and Miss Deborah and Miss Pamela would all leave your uniform pumps outside your lockers for me, I will clean and polish them with my own kit, all nice and ready for your next flight duties. I don't need a key to close the locker doors afterwards as they self-lock when pushed shut."

I looked askance at Terry again.

Terry had already volunteered to stay behind later to clean and polish the post-flight pumps of ten returned air hostesses: Senior Stewardesses Jasmine Jones and Amelia Amersham and their all-female cabin crews. And now he had offered to polish up the uniform black three-inch heel pumps of yet another three returned air hostesses: Senior Stewardess Donna and air hostesses Pamela and Deborah.

The two departed tenderfoots, air hostesses Julie and Analise, had left their uniform pumps in their lockers before heading for Cindy's Wine Bar. Julie and Analise, I thought, would not be happy to learn then that not only had they missed out on their newly entitled cabin crewman-provided post-flight foot massage tonight but had also lost out on having a male counterpart clean and polish their after-flight uniform pumps for them.

Senior Stewardess Donna beamed her delighted approval at Terry. "Cabin Crewman Terry, your agreeability surpasses even that of my version of a model cabin crewman. But why stop there? Perhaps you and Cabin Crewman Mason, who has also made a promising start to his Subservience to Stewardesses era career, would like to go another step further? To set the gold-standard example for your few remaining male colleagues to follow."

I wondered what Senior Stewardess Donna had in mind now. Because this whole thing was starting to get out of hand. I looked concernedly at Terry. But Terry, his eyes shining, was nodding eagerly at Donna.

Senior Stewardess Donna indicated the crew room's Arrivals screen. "Monday is one of our quieter nights. We have just four more flights to come in tonight, two of them delayed. So, to further improve your techniques and broaden your skill sets, would you both like to stay behind to provide post-flight foot massages for all of our later returning and our delayed air hostesses? And then afterwards, polish their uniform pumps for them too? Julie and Analise needn't miss out either. I have a master key to the lockers, so I can retrieve Julie's and Analise's uniform pumps and leave them outside their lockers for you to clean and polish too."

Terry didn't miss a beat. "For sure, Miss Donna! You can count me in!"

I gave Terry yet another questioning look.

Just what was Terry doing, volunteering add-on foot services to the air hostesses?

Terry clearly wanted to make a night of it. First, to stay behind to provide post-flight foot massages for the later returning and the delayed air hostesses. And afterwards, clean and polish their after-shift black three-inch heel uniform pumps. "All nice and ready for your next flight duties."

Senior Stewardess Donna turned to me and said, "Mason, what do you say? Senior Stewardess Camilla Cameron is on one of those delayed flights. Camilla is on the Paphos flight that originally you were rostered to work - and from which, you will recall, I rescued you."

"Yes, Miss Donna," I said. "Thank you. I'm very grateful."

"I know you were grateful, Mason. Your big sigh of relief was impossible to miss."

Senior Stewardess Donna pointed to the crew room's Arrivals screen again. "Camilla's return flight from Cyprus is now estimated to arrive at oh-three-hundred. So by the time she arrives in the crew room at about oh-three-thirty, her feet will be killing her. And so, as I'm sure you can imagine, Camilla will not be in the best of moods. And I don't know why, Mason, but of all our cabin crewmen, Camilla seems to harbour negativity towards you particularly. But this could be a fortunate opportunity for you to try and butter her up, try to get her to warm to you a little. You've already conveyed to me your willingness to stay behind and await Camilla's flight's scheduled arrival at twenty-three fifty. Well, think how impressed she will be to find you have waited for her three-hours delayed arrival. And why? Because you wanted to be the revised-contracted cabin crewman to administer her very first post-flight foot massage, and afterwards, to clean and polish her after-shift uniform pumps for her, too."

Terry, and his unnecessary volunteering; his over the top agreeability! Just what had he got me tangled up in?

I would have been long gone by the time Camilla arrived. But now, Camilla would not pass up such a great chance as this to stir things up between Gemma and me - not because Camilla had issues with me, but with Gemma. I was just caught up in their continuing contrariness.

My girlfriend Gemma knew that my flight had arrived at Gatwick on time at 21:45. And although I had texted Gemma to say I would be delayed by "unforeseen work commitments", I dreaded to think what would happen if she woke up when eventually I let myself in the door at around 5 a.m.

But no - it would be closer to 7 a.m. when Terry and I had performed post-flight foot massages for the air hostesses who required them and then cleaned and polished all of their uniform pumps. Perhaps not all the hosties would insist on Terry and I fulfilling our post-flight foot massage obligation; some of the delayed air hostesses might be too footsore, like Julie and Analise. But it seemed a given that all of our female counterparts would be delighted to leave their after-shift uniform pumps outside their lockers for their male colleagues to clean and polish for them.

"Well, Cabin Crewman Mason?" prompted Senior Stewardess Donna, still awaiting my answer. "Are you going to be agreeable? Are you counting yourself in, too? To set a brilliant benchmark with Cabin Crewman Terry?"

I could not match Terry's eagerness-to-please demeanour. Neither could I equal Terry's readiness to provide post-flight foot service for our female counterparts. And nor could I rival Terry's unbridled enthusiasm for late-night locker room labour, cleaning and polishing the after-shift uniform black three-inch heel pumps of our air hostess colleagues.

But, in the spirit of the Subservience to Stewardesses directive, I was just as agreeable.

I knew what Senior Stewardess Donna wanted from me, what she expected from me.

To earn Senior Stewardess Donna's ongoing proviso patronage, I needed to be a shining example of her version of a model cabin crewman.

And so tonight, Terry and I would set the brilliant benchmark for compliant and cooperative post-flight foot service.

Terry and I would: Co-establish Senior Stewardess Donna's above-and-beyond interpretation of our COO Ms Gina Summers' new era Subservience to Stewardesses directive.

Model: the revised-contracted cabin crewman's unfailing subordinate submission and reverent silent servitude on his kneeling mat at the dark nyloned after-flight feet of his female counterparts.

Exemplar: agreeability.

Hoping my dismay and despair at my approaching predicament with Camilla was not evident in my voice, I repeated to Senior Stewardess Donna what I had said to her earlier.

"I would be delighted, Miss Donna. You can count me in, too."

***

I was already tired. But now I was in for a very long night, thanks to Terry embroiling me in all of his voluntary add-on foot services.

It was hard to believe that it was only an hour ago when I arrived in the crew room with my flight supervisor Senior Stewardess Donna and the other four air hostesses on my flight.

The time was only 22:45 when air hostess Pamela gave her must-improve verdict on the sullen and resentful Darren's post-flight foot massage.

Anything less than wholehearted application to after-flight foot service was actionable. Sanctions ranged from just a personal scolding to a recommendation of dismissal via the flight supervisor's Cabin Crewman Conduct Report. Reminding Darren of this, air hostess Pamela had, to little effect, decried Darren's lacklustre efforts in providing her post-flight contractual entitlement and, worse, his absence of agreeability.

Darren's indifferent ministrations and halfhearted manipulations had merited air hostess Pamela's denunciation. But instead of bringing Darren's dire deficiencies to the attention of COO Ms Gina Summers, Pamela showed leniency, gave Darren latitude. Pamela had decided to allow Darren more time to come to terms with the new-era realities of the revised-contracted cabin crewman.

And so Pamela's first experience of exerting her new empowerment over a cabin crewman colleague was not as envisaged, and she was just glad to get the wretched Darren out from under her feet, as it were. And Pamela made it plain to the dolorous Darren before dismissing him disdainfully that, in deciding to allow him to slink off to the pub in time to make last orders and a game of pool, she was bestowing a favour that Darren should not expect Pamela to repeat or ask any other air hostess to confer. That is unless he earned it first through his agreeability: his discernibly genuine efforts to please and satisfy his foot-weary female counterparts.

Darren returned his personalised kneeling mat to his locker. But, although fearing his post-flight foot service be secured and extended again by later returning air hostesses, Darren had enough sense to thank air hostess Pamela in recognition of her leniency before scooting off. Seemingly it was a step up, on to the bottom rung of the ladder of agreeability.

For Darren, it seemed that the penny had dropped. That is: To improve his strained situation with air hostess Pamela, repair his working relationship with air hostess Deborah, and start redeeming himself with the difficult-to-please Senior Stewardess Donna - Darren would have to demonstrate to each of them a drastic attitudinal shift.

But I couldn't see it happening. Darren's aversion to new era Subservience to Stewardesses directive post-flight foot service while mute on his kneeling mat was evidently hardwired. And something told me that Darren would be less than forthcoming with his pool-playing mates down the pub as to his reason for being so waylaid. "Oh... I just had to put in an extra spot of new-era post-flight foot service for some of the newly empowered air hostesses."

Now that Darren was darting down to the Dog and Duck for his direly needed lager, just Terry and I were left to provide post-flight foot service for our female counterparts.

On my kneeling mat and observing the silent-service edict for post-flight foot massage, I continued facing my proviso patron and conditional protectress, Senior Stewardess Donna.

Seated throne-like on a stackable chair, Donna was now extending her right leg toward me, her dark nyloned foot in my hands with her sole level with and mere inches from my face. I watched as Donna gratefully flexed and scrunched her toes after their long uniform-pump confinement.

Now, I was affording Donna the after-flight favour I had once so flatly refused her.

Except that, now, I wasn't doing Donna a willing personal favour, thereby earning her gratitude and garnering her goodwill. I wasn't gaining regard and winning points for voluntarily conferring a kind and caring courtesy to a footsore female counterpart. No - that boat had sailed. Now, I was merely dutifully fulfilling my revised-contracted cabin crewman's post-flight foot service obligation and providing Donna's new era contractual entitlement.

On his kneeling mat, still shoulder-to-shoulder with me on my right, Terry similarly served in strictly observed silence at the dark nyloned feet of the similarly throne-like seated air hostess Deborah.

Throne-like, because there really was something to what Darren had said with his 'Queen and two princesses' analogy. Because, although the newly empowered air hostesses sat on simple straight-backed stackable seats, the suggestion of regality - the implicit 'highness' of the occupant - could not be lost on their silence-observing cabin crewman on his kneeling mat at their feet.

I was getting over my initial nervousness, and I thought I was starting to get the hang of this new era post-flight foot massage requirement.

And soon, I was wondering why I'd thought this new condition of employment as a cabin crewman with BlueSky Holidays such a big deal. Because the reality of the imposition was that it was no hardship at all, massaging Senior Stewardess Donna's dark nyloned after-shift feet.

Now that it came to it, it seemed a small price to pay, an acceptable quid pro quo to hold onto the job I enjoyed.

But that wasn't all.

Because it wouldn't be overstating it, to say I liked the sight of Senior Stewardess Donna's up-close thinly-veiled sole. I enjoyed watching her toes flex and scrunch. And I liked the feel, too, of Donna's warm after-work feet in my hands as I massaged. Donna seemed to like it, too, if her blissful sighing and contentful murmuring was anything to go by.

I'd once denied Donna an after-flight foot massage, thinking it would be the thin end of the wedge. Thinking, if I did it once, the die would be cast, and she would ask for repeats. And thinking, it would then become routine, and Donna would expect it. And it stood to reason that, the die having been cast, more footsore air hostesses would ask, would seek the soothing ministrations of the apparently pliable post-flight foot massage provider. And then, that die, having been cast, that would become routine. And then all of those air hostesses, too, would naturally expect it. And the result: an amenable male colleague's intended one-time sympathetic service as a fond favour to a footsore female counterpart would become a permanent provision - a taken for granted after-flight foot service free-for-all.

But I was finding now with Senior Stewardess Donna that, although not a kindly indulgent one-off favour but Donna's contractually entitled post-flight right, it was nothing to get all het up about. And it would be pretty much the same, I thought, with almost all of the other air hostesses whom I dutifully provided a post-flight foot massage.

Almost all, that is, because I knew there would be exceptions: Senior Stewardess Camilla and the air hostesses in her sphere of influence, her clique of easily led, example-following cronies.

Air hostess Pamela said, "Donna, I think I'll go and join Julie and Analise at Cindy's Wine Bar. A glass of Chardonnay would go down lovely, and it will help to wash away my disappointment with Darren. And I know my feet are glad I've got two days off! It's just a pity that the after-flight footrub I'd been so looking forward to tonight left much to be desired."

Senior Stewardess Donna replied derisively, "It left much to be desired? What an understatement! Darren was an absolute, total let-down. An abject failure as an after-flight footman. Our tired and achy after-shift feet deserve better, much better, than the disgruntled Darren's derisory idea of a post-flight foot massage."

"Well, Darren might do better next time, Donna," air hostess Pamela replied, not sounding as if she believed it.

Senior Stewardess Donna said, "I don't understand him. I mean, why did Darren sign his revised contract, agreeing to abide by the terms and conditions of the Subservience to Stewardesses directive? The principal objective of the COO's radical new era initiative was to separate the wheat from the chaff. To rid us of the cabin crewmen unwilling to perform a post-flight foot massage for their female counterparts and retain the cabin crewmen who are. If Darren is so extremely averse to performing a post-flight foot massage for his female colleagues, why didn't he accept the COO's pay-off package today? Why didn't Darren join all of the other irreconcilable cabin crewmen in their mass walk-out resignation and pick up his one-time offer, fat cheque quit-money? I mean, what did he think it was going to be like? Darren knew what he had signed up to; knew what he was in for: Serving silently on his kneeling mat at our after-shift feet."

"Donna, I wondered about that, too," said air hostess Pamela. "But it's a depressed jobs market. And so maybe Darren thought the COO's albeit very generous financial inducement to quit quietly might run out before he found another job, and he would have to sign on the dole. So Darren gambled. Darren decided to sign his revised contract to keep his job, telling himself he could cut it. Darren took a chance, telling himself he could cut it. But, as we saw tonight, when faced with the considerable physical effort and the mental stresses involved in providing post-flight foot service for successive female counterparts, Darren couldn't cut it. Darren, who likes to come over all macho man and alpha male... well, he thought it unmanly, submitting to us so totally."

"That is Cabin Crewman Darren's dyed-in-the-wool male-chauvinism for you, Pam: Construing his female counterparts having him muted at our feet on his kneeling mat as an intentional assault on his manhood and a deliberate undermining of his masculinity. I mean, look at Cabin Crewmen Terry and Mason here. They don't seem to mind at all, submissively serving their female colleagues in their radically reduced capacities."

"Yes, Donna," agreed air hostess Pamela. "I've noticed Terry and Mason's faultless compliance and obedient cooperation. How wonderfully unintrusive they both are! Terry and Mason's ethical approach to assuming their kneeling mats and silently performing a post-flight foot massage for their footsore female counterparts are the exact opposite of Darren's."

"Argh - Darren!" said Senior Stewardess Donna feelingly. "I will make him regret trying to defy me tonight, and he should reap the fullest punitive consequence for his appalling behaviour toward Deborah. And, Pam, I am amazed you let Darren escape to the pub for a late pint. I mean, what were you thinking? Darren didn't do anything to deserve it - not a thing! Darren did not please or satisfy you and made no real effort to do so either. And he won't. Darren is what he is: non-conformist. Darren's disinclination to please and satisfy us post-flight should be punished, not rewarded. Oh! The mere mention of that moron's name! Just the thought of that disagreeable dunderhead Darren infuriates me! He makes me want to stamp my foot; I am too ladylike to say where!"

Air hostess Pamela said, "Donna, I can see where you are coming from - Darren made me want to stamp my foot too! But I suppose I felt a bit sorry for Darren. I mean, today's introduction of the Subservience to Stewardesses directive, and then tonight's inauguration of post-flight foot service... well, it was all a bit much for him. So I thought I would cut Darren just a little bit of slack tonight, a reprieve. To see if he responds positively for it the next time he serves me on his kneeling mat."