Chapter One

Back to the old regimen: Dexedrine to stay awake, Ambien to wind down in her room at 10:00 am. At 9:00 she’d be heading the other way. New York LGA to Los Angeles LAX. When her week was over, she’d be shuttled back to O’Hare, as Chicago was her home base.

It was Havana Victoria’s first redeye in about three years, but not the one she had requested. She wouldn’t have minded the overnight flights—as long as the final destinations were cities like London, Rome, Berlin…So when a slot on the Paris route opened up, why did Tom, the transportation supervisor, give it to Janice? Did Janice speak fluent Spanish? Had Janice taken adult-ed. French classes?

This was the consolation prize: a bonus for three weeks of training a few new flight attendants. “Many on my staff would kill for this opportunity,” he said, but for Havana, it wasn’t about the money. Saving up for the 20% down on her condo was easy because she rarely had time to spend it any other way. She would barely have time to exchange her new pumps that had failed the stress test of her last flight.

She hobbled out of Tom’s office with questions unanswered. Who’d take her place on the LGA-O”Hare shuttle? Would she get to bump the temporary replacement after her training stint was over? Or did Tom have other ideas? The hardest part of working for this airline was not dealing with the passengers; fulfilling their wants and needs involved less and less strategy. She knew the optimal time to bring down the beverage cart so as to avoid too many special requests later, or how to avoid eye contact and appear too busy until she was more capable of assisting someone. She could even detect motion sickness about 15 minutes before it happened—she could see the change in a passenger’s eyes or pores.

What was more confusing to Havana was getting her own needs and wants met. It wasn’t as straightforward as a passenger’s asking for an extra pillow. There are plenty of pillows, yet a more limited number of international routes, and more attendants yearning to end their shifts in another world, one that gives those hours in a stuffy compartment more meaning and perspective. Plus she had to be careful what she asked for; sometimes with time a supervisor confuses a secondary want for a primary one.

Maybe next time. If Janice could get promoted, then maybe she’d be next. Even despite the disregard for seniority. She pulled her overnight bag into the ladies room, into a stall where she could fish out her pills, and pull down her nylons to bandage up her feet before continuing on to her gate.