ALEX AND MY BROTHERS insisted that I work in first class. Made a real scene about it, too. Fortunately for them, the Company didn't budge. I was not re-assigned to work in first class. Apparently some policies really are written in stone. Good to know.

Not that I would have minded much. I could have had a really good time serving my brothers. Just the thought of how I would have served them brought a smile to my face. Serving them steak accidentally dropped and stepped on. Running out of caviar because I ate it. It would have been a great way to find out if Visine in the coffee really does give you diarrhea. Or if it kills you. I mean, it's Visine. It could go either way.

Anyhoo, once my work assignment was straightened out, I followed Tad as he escorted me to the lifts that would take me downstairs to the lower level galley. "So here we are," he said, pushing the call button while at the same time giving me a pitying look. "Good Luck."

"Why do I need luck?"

His answer was to flee from the service center as fast as he could. Well, that doesn't bode well.

"Are you working in the galley?"

I turned; standing behind me were a couple of real flight attendants. Although their smiles were pleasant enough I knew group stink eye when I see it. So the friendly skies weren't so friendly, after all.

"Hi," I said to them. "I'm Siobhan."

There was no response. I smiled; they smiled. We all smiled. Eventually one of them asked, "Why are you going downstairs?"

"I'm going to the galley to observe and assist."

There was some giggling, some tittering, and I think I even heard a snort. "Well, good luck with that," said the one who had asked me why I was going downstairs. Keeping her eyes on me she whispered something behind her hand to the woman standing next to her. The woman she had whispered to covered her mouth and looked at the floor.

Ah. The whisper behind a hand - the unspoken language of the mean girl. "Thanks." I smirked and pointedly looked down at her legs. "Did you know you have a run in your stockings?"

"I do?" she asked, but I pulled a Tad and got in the lift. Mean girls. They're the same if you're 8 or you're 80.

The elevator took me carried me down to the lower level. I pulled my bags out and took a gander. It was a long narrow room, bigger then you'd think but not large. Carts were on either side and in the back were two flip down seats on the wall, along with a sink and a mirror. There was a man sitting on one of the flip down seats reading a newspaper.

Even though he was sitting down I could tell he was short. Judging from the length of his legs, he probably only came up to my boobs. He was bald, had dark skin, and was holding a cup of coffee in one hand. The newspaper he was reading was the Wall Street Journal.

"Hello," I greeted.

"Hello." He seemed surprised. "Are you lost?"

"I don't think so. I'm supposed to observe and assist in the lower galley."

"Really?" he asked with a closed mouth smile. "You're too beautiful to be down here. You must have pissed someone off."

I kicked my bag in an empty hole and shrugged. "Probably. I piss people off. It's a thing."

"Huh." He sat his coffee on the sink and shook his paper out. "I'm Frank."

"I'm Siobhan."

"Well, then. You should get busy." He picked up his coffee and resumed reading the paper.

Wow. Observing and assisting was a lot easier than I thought it would be. I pulled out my phone and texted Frances. What's up?

Bored. You on board yet?

Yep. Alex is here. Want to meet him?

She emojiied a screaming face.

There was a chime; I vaguely heard a P.A. about seat belts.

"Excuse me?"

I looked up at the little dude. "Yes?"

"You probably should getting things set up."

"Getting what things set up?"

He smirked. "Getting the galley set up." He sipped his coffee. "There's a lot that has to be done on the ground."

"Oh." I thought about what he said. "I'm supposed to do this?"

He continued to smirk. "Yep."

"Huh." I showed him the paper. "My instructions state that you're supposed to set up, and I'm supposed to observe and assist."

His smirk was becoming smirkier. "Is that what your instructions say?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"I believe your instructions are incorrect. You're supposed to set up and do the galley," he replied. "I'm supposed to observe and assist you."

I opened up the paper. "My worksheet right here, it says that I am to observe and assist. Taken at their plain meaning, observe means to watch, and assist means someone else does the work and I step in when and if I'm needed." I held out it. "Would you like to see."

"Well, don't you have an attitude." His smirk was transitioning to snark. "There's school and there's real life. This is real life."

"Words don't change meaning from school to real life. If you want, I can google the plain meanings of observe and assist if it would further help you understand your role on today's trip."

He raised an eyebrow. "Now I know why you're down here. You're a smart ass."

"Am I?" I looked around. "Is there more coffee?"

He put his newspaper in the bag sitting next to his feet and then stared up at me. "It's like this, new hire. Down here, I'm the boss. What I say goes. And I say that you're working the galley."

I looked down at my assignment sheet. "Where's it say that? There's nothing on this sheet about you being in charge of the galley and having the authority to change my work assignment in such a drastic manner. " I waved the paper at him. "Would you like for me to read it to you? I can read it to you if you like."

He dropped his smile. "You're not picking up on what I'm telling you. I have seniority here. I'm vested."

"Work Trip Assignment. JFK to London," I read from the paper. "For your final work trip assignment you will be lower level galley assist. As lower level galley assist, you are to observe the galley flight attendant - " I pointed " - that's you, by the way, and assist in any way possible." I looked up. "Would you like for me to google the definition of any of those words?"

"I will get you fired."

"I think I can get fired for not observing and assisting," I replied. "I think that your misunderstanding of my job responsibilities can land us both in trouble."

He glared at me. I noticed the beginning of a small tic in his left cheek.

As for me, I put up my iPad and leaned against a cart. "This is me, observing and assisting," I said, getting a pen out. "Galley flight attendant sat on jumpseat and instructed me to set up galley," I pretended to write."

He continued to glare. I stared doodling hearts and flowers on my sheet.

"Do you really want to begin your career here by making enemies?" he finally asked, the tic in his left cheek now much more prominent.

I cocked my head. "Why would I make enemies if I did what I was told?" I opened a cart and pulled out a bottle of Evian.

"That's a passenger Evian," he sneered. "You're stealing. You can get fired for that."

I considered. "You can get fired for a lot of things. Why fret?" I opened it and took a drink. It was good water, very cold.

"You know I can tell flight service that you botched up this entire flight."

I nodded. "Sure you could. But then flight service will want to know why you let me."

"I can ruin your reputation before you even start."

"My reputation's already ruined. I fucked my best friend after the interview." I paused. "I did buy everyone's make up, though, so now they like me."

"What is wrong with you?" He was really fuming now. I expected steam to start coming out his ears. "Don't you get it? I can ruin your life here."

That cracked me up. "Dude, you should meet my family." I waved my hand dismissively. "Wait...you can meet my family. My brothers are in first class. Go say hi. Those men will school you on human misery. "

"How are they in first class?" His eyes grew a fraction wider. "You have your passes already...wait, are you a company transfer?"

"Passes?" I asked. "Passes to what?"

"How are your brothers in first class?" he nearly shouted.

"They bought tickets," I explained, speaking slowly. "My fiance did too. They wanted to come see me work because they think it's funny I'm doing this." I sighed. "Fuckers."

He stood up and grabbed my left hand. "This is real?" he squawked.

"Yes," I replied. "In the sense it's real and not imaginary."

He pulled my hand closer to his face to study my ring. "You're wearing a real vintage Van Clef and Arpels diamond engagement ring."

I pulled my hand out of his and stared at the ring. "How the hell does everyone know that except me?"

He looked around me. "That's not a uniform bag. It's a Tumi. A leather Tumi."

"Is it? I don't know. My fiance gave it to me." I looked over at it. "The Company gave me one, but it was ugly."

He stared at me for a minute. "You know, in twenty years of service, I've broken nearly every trainee I've had down here, but I gotta give up. You win, Red. You have broken me."

I smiled. "It's what I do, Frank. It's what I do."

He sighed a sigh of defeat. "Listen closely. I don't repeat myself."

I pulled out my phone and took a selfie then texted it to Alex. "What was that? I wasn't listening."

He ignored me and started opening cars. "Okay, Red, it's like this. You got three racks of ten meals each that need to get loaded into the ovens before take off. If they're really frozen, you got to get them turned on right about the time the captain says we're taking off."

"What happens if I don't?" I asked.

"The meals will take forever to cook and people will whine."

"Okay," I said. I observed him put rack after rack in the oven and texted to Frances, How's the observing?

Stews be bitches, she replied. I hear you're in the shit.

Nah. I worked it out. We're besties now.

"Are you listening?"

I looked up. "What?"

"You see those two carts right by you?" He pointed behind me.

"Yep."

"Send those upstairs. They're supply carts."

"Man." I put the carts on the two elevators and sent them up. Whoever was up there pulled them out and sent the lifts back down.

"On this side," he pointed. "This is business class. Their meals need to be plated. Wait to load them until after take off. Place the nuts and the bread in the warming units, which are directly over your head."

I assisted as instructed.

"Okay, now, see those carts in the back?"

I nodded.

"Follow on service. Breakfast carts. Don't worry about them until later."

"Okedokey."

"Now, you got to send up the trash carts and the beverage carts." He pulled out a larger cart with a hole on top. "This is a trash cart. There's four. Two for dinner, two for breakfast. Send up two now."

So I sent up the two carts.

"Now your beverage carts can't be opened before flight because all liquor inside is bonded. This means we haven't paid taxes on it, and therefore, cannot be served until we are in the air." He paused. "Got it?"

"Taxes suck." I smiled. "What would happen if I accidentally opened a cart beforehand?"

"U.S. Customs might come on and fine us per bottle not locked up." He shrugged. "It's not a personal fine, but they put it in your file."

"Would that mean I'd never have to work with you again?"

"You know, Red, I think you need to work down here." He pulled a out a cart and loading it into a lift. "You're smart ass. Passengers take issue with that."

"Is that why you're down here?"

"Yes." He shut and locked all the containers and sat back down. "I'll see you after take off." He got his paper out. "Unless, you know, you want to quit and go sit with your family in first class."

"No way, Jose. I'm all about the observing and assisting." I waved as I got into the lift. "See you later, Daddy -O."

Once I arrived in the service center I found a crowd of women standing around and staring at me. "Hi," I greeted.

"How'd you get him to do that?" one of them asked.

"Do what?"

"How'd you get him to work? He's notorious. Every flight, he pushes around the galley assist until one of us has to go down there and take over. What did you do that was different?"

"Yeah," interjected another. "You're not even crying. Usually there's crying."

"Omigod. Remember that one guy?" said the woman standing next to her. "He was in tears the entire trip. I heard he quit afterwards."

"Who, Yoda down there?" I shrugged. "He's alright. I just explained to him my responsibilities and how they meshed with his responsibilities. Soon we came to a meeting of the minds."

"She called Frank Yoda," I heard one of them whisper. "He does look like Yoda. I see it now."

"He was confused," I went on. "He didn't understand the plain meaning of the words observe and assist. Now I've explained it to him, and we're all good."

"You're amazing," the first woman told me. "When I was new, Frank made my life miserable for an entire month."

I smiled. "I know a little something about how to work around people like Frank. I'm really, really good at it."

"Teach us," she pleaded. "Teach us how to work around people like Frank."

I waved my hand. "Gather round ladies. Step one. How to play foxy dumb."

_____ * _____ * _____ * _____ * _____

One of Siobhan's best characteristics is her ability to push back bullies. Good for her. Too bad she can't do the same to Alex.

Thank you so much for taking time to read Siobhan's story! I look forward to your comments, and if you liked it, please remember to vote!

©Copyright Liz Charnes May 2018

This work is protected by copyright and cannot be copied or used in any way without my express consent. Please don't steal it. Thank you!