Free More Confessions of a Hostie by Danielle Hugh

opposite Helen.
    As Mr. Moss puts his guitar in the overhead stowage, I peek around the corner. Yes, Helen is doing cartwheels. I had expected as much.
    She catches my eye and then points toward Mr. Moss. ‘Oh my god – it’s Ridge! It’s Ridge!’ she mouths, smiling. Helen lives for my onboard celebrity encounters, and now she is going to have one of her own. I couldn’t be happier for her. Although I would have loved to sit with her and chat about how excited she is feeling now, duty calls again, and I have to answer.
    During the boarding process, we can tell which passengers are going to be problematic for us by simply observing how they behave when they walk onto the aircraft. In the fleeting moments of greeting them at the front door – ‘Good morning, welcome onboard, if you could cross over to the other aisle, your seat is half way down the aircraft’ – we can tell who is going to create drama for us later.
    It is a safety and security requirement that every passenger show his or her boarding pass to us as they board the plane. It is an obligation, not an optional choice, and applies to every airline. Most passengers understand this and comply without a fuss, but every now and then a passenger takes exception to the fact that they have put the boarding pass in a pocket or a bag and have to find it again. There is one such problem-passenger on this flight too – a skinny, little gay guy wearing shorter than short shorts and a skimpy T-shirt two sizes too small. My gaydar (gay radar) is good, but I don’t need it to know he is gay. Anyone on the planet would know he’s gay by looking at the way he is dressed and the way he sashays down the aerobridge toward the aircraft.
    The little man makes a huge scene at the boarding entry.
    â€˜I am in 48C,’ he blasts on entering the aircraft.
    â€˜Yes sir, but we need to see your boarding pass,’ I calmly request.
    â€˜I showed it to the girl at check in,’ he rudely argues.
    â€˜Yes sir, but it is a security requirement that you show it again before you enter the aircraft,’ I explain, still calm.
    â€˜Why?’ he yells.
    The way he carries on, it almost seems like I have asked this guy to give up one of his kidneys.
    â€™Have a look at everyone else, you self-centred, rude little man. Everyone else is showing their boarding passes, and they are not bitching and complaining. It is a legal requirement that you show the damn thing, so shut up and show it to me,’ is what I wish I could say.
    â€˜Please show me the boarding pass, sir. And do step aside while you are looking for it, so the other passengers may board. Thank you,’ I tell him instead, politely, yet with authority.
    When he finally does hand me the boarding pass, I smile courteously. And after I have thoroughly checked the details printed on it, I thank him for complying with our request and show him to his seat.
    He snatches the boarding pass out of my hand and walks off in a huff.
    Kate notes the deplorable behaviour of the man. When we get an opportunity to chat, between boarding passengers, she says, ‘Tell Damien to keep an eye on that one. 48C, wasn’t it?’ I nod, and I know exactly what she means.
    Never reward bad behaviour, that’s one of the tenets that we airline crew believe in. If someone is excessively and inexcusably rude to the crew, there is no way that the crew members will go out of their way to help that person. They will do the bare minimum, and that is all. Sometimes passengers have legitimate complaints, but when someone overreacts to a simple situation that is just so petty, then it is duly noted and the crew reacts (or under-reacts) applicably.
    Experience has shown me that someone who makes a big deal about the little things once will do so repeatedly.
    I would bet any amount of money that this is not the last we will hear from Mr. 48C.
    When the boarding is complete, I head down to the