A Flight Attendant Did Her Best to Turn Me Into the Raging Passenger

I resisted the urge and instead sat with my feet in tomato sauce

I am not a big fan of hot spaghetti on my feet. Before I explain what I don’t like about gooey sauce soaking my socks, let’s talk about the sad realities of travel by air of late.

It horrifies me the way people behave themselves when traveling. We all hear about the stories of flight attendants being abused, both physically and verbally. It’s another dark chapter in society that seems filled with them these days.

2020 saw a significant increase in violence against flight attendants, leaving them physically and emotionally scarred.

This year, there has been a more than five-fold increase in the number of violent incidents on planes. The Federal Aviation Administration, which is chiefly responsible for investigating incidents of unruly passenger behavior, initiated 183 investigations in 2020 — about average, though likely high for a year when travel was significantly interrupted.

“It triggered something in my soul that will never, ever leave,” she said. She dreamt of the fight that night, but this time she was being forced to watch. She called her therapist. When she got home, she didn’t go outside for five days (Violence On Planes).

In the incident above, the flight attendant was not physically hurt. As a Black woman, however, she found the racial slurs the offending white family hurled as offenses she could not easily shake. The incident created unease in her, leading to her seeking psychological help.

The skies are not so friendly to flight attendants these days, indeed, but just the other day, I had my own “run-in” that could have very quickly escalated into me becoming the unruly passenger and the reason for the increased statistics. It made me wonder: Are the skies very friendly for us, the passengers?

Spaghetti

Flying out of Newark Airport, the dinner service commenced quickly after we hit our cruising altitude. Trying to overcome the two-hour delay and to please the unwatered passengers, the flight attendants bustled about like a team of concerned elves (it is that time of year, after all).

Deprived of my special meal for some reason, I didn’t care — I just wanted a glass of iced water. A fairly large portion of spaghetti and chopped chicken was placed before me. Grabbing my cutlery, that is when it happened.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it fly toward my upper body and face. The guy whose meal it was, cat-like, smacked it out of the air, causing it to crash at my feet. I still don’t know what or how he managed to heave his meal with such force but the “smacking” of it resulted in a really hard landing. Hard enough that the contents splattered completely under my chair.

Embarrassed and apologetic, he reached down and picked it up, which only made it worse. The entire hot meal was spread out across my shoeless feet. I could feel it beginning to burn, and I contemplated removing my socks for a second. It cooled, however, and sitting somewhat shocked and laughing at the odd predicament, I was happy to see the flight attendant race over. It seems she saw the whole flying-meal affair.

“Oh, it looks like you need another meal, sir,” and off she ran to get him one.

Upon returning, he inquired how and when they would remove the food covering my feet.

“Oh, he’ll be okay,” she said to him and slipped off the aisle.

The Paper Towels

The man was embarrassed and, while being at least in his mid-70s and so not as flexible as a younger person might be, he nevertheless contorted himself back and around and began cleaning sauce off my feet. I insisted it wasn’t necessary as it only seemed to worsen.

Unable to move without making it worse, the flight attendant returned to ensure the man’s new dinner was okay.

“Yes, what about his feet and the mess under his chair?” Turning toward me, the look on her face was that I was somehow a big pain in the ass.

Now, while I can be a pain in the ass, in this situation, I just sat silently, waiting at least for some napkins.

“Can I have at least some…” and she was off without listening to the end of my request.

A minute passed, and suddenly at about eye level in my peripheral vision, she was pushing two paper towels onto me. Not sure what to do with them, I just dropped them onto my feet, levitating above the sauce and noodles, and watched the towel change color.

Five minutes later, I saw her race by with the drink cart while not once enquiring about my sauce-covered feet. Returning cart-less, it seemed she needed to get another bottle of wine; I waved to her.

“Ma’am, I am not sure how I offended you, but is there any way you can bring me a wet towel or something so I can clean up my feet?” Sitting next to me was my son and wife, and they, along with the man who was listening in, were shocked at what then happened.

With her hands pushed out in front of her and already entering my personal space, she folded them as if praying and yelled: “Sir, back off, please. I told you I will get to you when I can get to you. People need their drinks, and I can’t just drop everything and deal with you.”

Yep, my mouth dropped open. Yep, my eyeballs began to bulge a bit. As the woman repeated her mantra about “giving her time to now just remain calm and to stop calling her over (she was aware of the accident, she said, and at this moment, it’s just not a priority, she added),” other passengers, not knowing what had happened, began to look at me like that “vile and disrespectful passenger who abuses the flight attendants.”

“Are you kidding me? A meal was hurled onto my feet by accident, and I am just asking for a towel to clean myself up.”

She launched another round of “You need to be calm, sir.”

Not once, however, did I lose my cool as it is something I don’t — won’t — do in front of my son.

“Oh, so now I am the troublesome passenger here. Okay, I got it. Thank you.”

She stormed off. Ten minutes later, she returned and wiped the sauce off the floor.

Calm

I never once lost my cool. I completely understood that shit happens. The man was so apologetic. I never asked the woman even to clean up the mess. I just asked for a towel. With a long flight ahead, I didn’t know where I would put my feet because there were sauce and noodles everywhere.

It made me think. How many of the incidences in the air are actually, if not caused by such confrontational behavior, then at least elevated to aggression because of such rudeness?

There can be no excuse for her desire to go from 0 to 60 for no reason in such a short time. She had no idea how my day had played out, but I was always civil and kind. As a very experienced traveler, I go out of my way to limit extra work for the attendants.

I don’t doubt that much of the violence occurring in the air is undertaken by whiny, ignorant dopes. Nevertheless, after this incident, I will ask: Did the flight attendant act as aggressively to the passenger as the woman did with me?

I was indignant and wanted to argue, but I just sat there and told my son that all was okay.

It’s tough times, indeed, but really it seems that the airlines need to consider some de-escalation techniques fast before the increasing violence gets much worse.