Here's wishing I was really Suzi.
Diary of a Long-haul Stewardess
The flight deck are treated like Gods by most of the crew. A lot of the stewardesses I’ve met are gagging to get a ring on their finger from one of these Gods. A captain being the ultimate prize. Can’t see it myself. The state of some of the pilots, father figure and desperate spring to mind. Free flights forever might swing it. Nah… I’m not that desperate.
I am sitting on the jump seat on the flight deck of a Boeing 747 that is approaching the runway. It’s my first flight as a supernumerary and the Captain has generously allowed me to grace his presence. The early afternoon sun is dazzling as the ground quickly comes up to meet us. You can’t feel a thing from up here. Not like the normal crash, jolt and oxygen masks coming down as the wheels touch the ground of a heavy landing when we’re sitting down the back. It feels as though we’ve just gently stepped out of the sky.
One of the other girls is going all giggly when ever the striped God comes onto her radar. As Butch and Sundance would say -Who are these guys? Maybe it’s the power element? The Captain’s word is law aboard the plane. Nothing happens in that silver bird without his say -so. It would have to be a case of Mutiny on the Bounty if the crew wanted to disagree with his commands. Bit tricky to eject him into the Pacific from 35,000ft, but you get the drift.