Fly those friendly skies

Poor Lisa Robertson. Ms. Robertson, once-upon-a-time a QANTAS flight attendant has been sacked for her perhaps ill-considered decision to join the Mile High Club.

Most of you probably know the story by now of how Ms. Robertson was cajoled into doing ‘the deed’ with a famous movie star (Ralph Fiennes of Schindler’s List fame) in the toilet of a plane traveling from Australia to India. It was her decision, she says, and she also stated that she suspected she’d probably be fired, but having been given a chance to get to know a big movie star really-really-really well seemed to her to be worth the risk.

Well, I for one admire her candor and forthrightness in the matter. There is, by the way, no indication that Mr. Fiennes will be fired as a movie star. Probably won't happen. But maybe, if he's a decent guy, he'll help her out with her bills as she conducts her job-search. It only seems right.

Anyway, over the years a lot of males have had fantasies about making it with a flight attendant. Some flights are very long, and thoughts sometimes idly wander into forbidden or, for normal sods anyway, virtually impossible scenarios. And, flight attendants (or stewardesses, as they were once known back in the days when it was acceptable to use a single-word descriptor rather than two) seem to always offer food for those idle thoughts. They’re pretty classy; most are friendly; and they perhaps suggest a combination of nurse and geisha to the more callous of male passengers.

Now, about this Mile High Club, I’m not so sure. I am not a member and have never possessed much ambition to join that exalted altitudinous circle. I’ve been in airplane toilets, as have most of us. Sometimes when there I have wondered about how people actually do ‘that’ in there. It’s pretty confining and I don’t think the minuscule facility would lead to the most satisfactory of carnal encounters. I therefore conclude I would rather wait until we land and get to the hotel. Call me unadventurous if you will.

But, if this leaves you thinking my life has always been entirely lacking in luster, that is not entirely so. I once did receive a very overt and enticing invitation from an attractive flight attendant. I was occupying a lone seat (among three) in a long distance and sparsely occupied late night flight. This nice lady came by on a few occasions, asking me each time she passed if I would like a drink, a pillow, a blanket, etc. I declined each time. Then she came by and asked if it would be OK if she joined me while she went on her break. I said that would be just hunky-dory, or words to that effect. So, we chatted. And she told me all about her life. And she said she had a three-day layover at our destination and then came right out and asked if I would like to join her for said ‘layover.’ She mentioned nothing whatsoever about the toilet three rows back. Just as well, because my wife was stretched out in the row immediately in front of us, and was killing herself at the scenario unfolding behind her. Needless to say, I politely declined all invitations for all the obvious reasons.

“I bet you were dying inside,” said my wife as I later rejoined her in her row of seats. “You had every male’s fantasy laid before you and you couldn’t do a thing about it. I bet that never happened to you when you were single.”

In that she would be right.

But, maybe Ms. Robertson should learn that sometimes it is better to not give into one’s more basic urges.

Or maybe not. She says the encounter was pretty fabulous.