In an unguarded moment, I told a colleague who also blogs for KLM that I write about special passengers. I do this because I cherish those memories. Although these stories are rather personal, I want to share them with you, so that you too can get to know the passenger in seat 1A or 42K.
We’re at Vancouver International preparing for take-off to Amsterdam. There are two very cheerful Canadian ladies in my work zone. They start chatting to the man in 4A, who isn’t happy with his seat. It’s too small, he says. I pretend not to hear their conversation as I serve them pre-flight drinks. One of the ladies says cheekily: “That seat isn’t too small, you’re too big!” I stifle a laugh and fortunately hear the man laughing too.
But the lady isn’t done yet. “And look at me,” she says. “I can’t reach my footrest. That’s not because the seat is too big, but because my legs are too short! So it seems we all have our own little problems to deal with!” She stretches her legs demonstratively and is indeed unable to reach the footrest. “Let me help you with that,” I say bending forward and pretending to stretch her legs for her. She has a good laugh and makes a remark about the extent of KLM’s fantastic service.
The lady has also disarmed her grumpy neighbour with her humour. When I serve him a drink, he looks relaxed and seems to have taken the lady’s advice, reconciling himself with his “undersized” seat. I have a pleasant chat with the ladies and their neighbour as I’m serving them drinks and their starters. The animated conversation and laughter of the three Canadians seems to be infectious, because the atmosphere throughout the cabin is good.
But then something goes wrong while heating the meals, and I don’t have the beef dish one of the Canadian ladies ordered. When I apologise profusely, her response is heart-warming: “Oh, that’s absolutely no problem at all. I’ll eat whatever you have left. We’re fine, we’re comfortable and perfectly happy here. We aren’t going anywhere, so don’t you hurry and don’t you worry!”
I could kiss the ladies for being so kind, and say: “That’s so good to hear! You are such gay people! You really make me happy!” As I turn around and head towards the galley, I hear a stifled laugh: “Yes, we are a gay couple! She saw that right away.” When I turn around and say, “I heard that!” they burst into infectious laughter again.
Let’s take her home
About 1.5 hours before landing, I bring the ladies their breakfast. They’ve been sleeping peacefully for hours. One of them remarks: “And here she comes again…with breakfast! How lovely! Shall we take her home with us?” Everyone is awake and in a good mood because of this friendly duo. And there I am in the aisle, blushing like mad, shaking with laughter, stuttering: “Oh, okay, why not? I feel very gay today!”
Thanks for reading my blog. If you enjoyed it, you can read more of my blogs here. One of them is about Baruch, a sweet kid who made my day during a night flight.