Around the World in a Bad Mood! (3 page)

B
ENEFITS

I always thought I'd be a star.

(since she was two),

I'd drink champagne with caviar

(the ingénue).

Then my dad, Bob, said, “Get a job.”

(boo-hoo-hoo-hoo)

“Get off the couch and get a job today!”

(forget the stage)

My dad said, “Try the airline,”

(you'll be a stew),

“the pay is good, they'll treat you fine”

(that's not so true)

“and you will learn to serve tidbits”

(what should she do?)

“you'll be so glad if a recession hits.”

You'll have those BENEFITS.

A steady job that pays

BENEFITS, every year a big fat raise,

BENEFITS, strong earning potential, health

and life and dental . . . wake up girl, reality!

I breezed through that job interview.

(in a suit of blue)

They loved me from the start, it's true,

(one of the few)

They knew that I would be a wiz.

(good-bye show biz)

Life had begun and I was on the team!

(forget your dream)

So now I'm gainfully employed,

(all thanks to Dad)

Most of the time I am annoyed,

(her mood is bad)

But what I have can't be destroyed.

(she's got those)

401-K, Holiday Pay, Sick Leave, FREE Travel . . . BENEFITS!

E
VERY COMPANY HAS A
corporate philosophy or a mission statement. This attitude usually prevails throughout the company at all levels, inwardly and outwardly. Also, most companies have some type of corporate structure. WAFTI, I discovered, is no different. As a new employee, it behooves one to learn and to understand the mission statement and the pecking order as soon as possible because it reveals so much about the company as a whole. First of all, the WAFTI mission statement: “Lower your standards, we did.”

Now on to the pecking order. At WAFTI, the people at the bottom are the “peons.” The peons are usually large in number, work in labor-intensive positions, and are usually the front-line employees dealing head-on with the public. Those at the next level are known as the “big shots” (secretly known as “small shots”). Usually they aren't really that important, but they're given fancy titles so they sound important. Everybody is supposed to think they're important, but most important,
they
must think they are important (kind of like the wizard in
The Wizard of Oz
). Above the big shots are the “suits.” You know this group: vice presidents, CEOs, and the board. I won't discuss them at this time because at WAFTI, the peons have very little contact with suits. However, there is a close relationship between the peons and the big shots. Now there certainly are exceptions, but for the most part it seems the qualifications for becoming a big shot are as follows:

1.
Be a yes-man:
As a big shot you must possess the ability to agree with and to say “yes” to whatever a suit tells you, even if you don't agree with this directive or believe it to be right. You must nod and smile and then make it happen. This is the “puppet factor.” If you do not or cannot implement these directives you will no longer be a big shot, you will either be “released from your duties” or be demoted back whence you came, to peon status. These directives most often have to do with budget cutting, productivity, and meaningless policies.

2.
Incompetence:
Basically, you should not really know what the hell you're doing. This will enable you to better get along with other big shots.

3.
The intimidation factor:
You must be able to inspire fear in all those beneath you. Threaten them, intimidate them, put the fear of God into them. Particularly when they start talking about morale, improving working conditions, and pay increases. After all, as big shots, you realize that the aforementioned have no bearing on productivity.

4.
A sense of self-importance:
You may not be qualified and capable, but so what? Lacking these qualities has no bearing on the big picture, as long as you think you are important and act as though you are important others will see you as such. Lack of knowledge is power. That's the WAFTI motto!

5.
Ability to brownnose:
This is the major qualification for a rapid rise on the corporate ladder. If you find you do not possess this asset then you can always resort to being a “tattler.”
^*

6.
Must
not
possess any sense of humor whatsoever:
Nothing is funny, dammit! This is serious business and we don't want anyone laughing, or, for that matter, smiling. We don't have time for nonsense, fun, and games. We have a lot of paper to shuffle and things to look into and it most certainly is not funny!

A
H, TRAINING.
It is forever etched in my mind. I attribute my successful completion of the WAFTI training program to two things: youth and fear. The very term “trainee” is contemptuous. You are not yet a full-fledged employee, merely a candidate for employment. It's a purgatory, of sorts. In training, I learned—aside from service, safety, grooming, and company policies—to keep smiling and to keep my mouth shut while being subjected to all kinds of crap. I now realize that this is basically what flight attendants do most of the time, so perhaps there is a method to the madness of training. There was also an element of theatricality to the program, led by the grand dame of training, June Larson.

June Larson is the big shot of the training department at WAFTI. She is originally from a very small town somewhere north of north, where the odds are good, but the goods are odd. And June is living proof of it. Although she traveled around the world back when she was a “stew” thirty years ago, she never lost her northern accent. It is soooo cuuuute, donchya knoooow! Have you ever heard the expression “the more you drink, the better she looks”? I think whoever came up with it was out on a bender with June when it struck him. But she's been known to turn a few heads when she enters a room—perhaps it's her platinum-blond wig, cat glasses, and athletic physique. In any case, she was there to give us a big, warm welcome on the first day.

“Well helloooooo everybody! I'm June Larson and I'm the head of training here at WAFTI. I just want youuu to know I am not the enemy here, nooooo I'm not. I'm in your corner. I'm just here to help you be the best you can be.” Translation: Watch it! This broad is public enemy number one. Sort of bumbling idiot on the outside with a killer instinct inside. She went on to tell us about how delighted she was to have us as part of the WAFTI family and how they were a benevolent, caring family.

“Now I want to talk about the importance of our appearance. First of all, the uniform really does begin with you, so wear it with pride.” I won't make the dear reader suffer through the long speeches we endured; instead, I offer some highlights of June Larson's uniform and beauty secrets:

1. “Always use soap, deodorant, toothpaste (duh), and a light fragrance. I recommend the company-approved perfume, ‘Cockpit.' Just a little airline humor, kids.”

2. “Coach-class tramps don't get first-class husbands, so keep the makeup to a minimum.” June did not practice what she preached. The color and amount of lipstick she wore could be seen in Montana.

3. “Earrings cannot be larger than a quarter.” (Did she say earrings or
earnings
?)

4. “Hair cannot fall below the collar. And by the way, never have your top collar button unfastened, even if it is one hundred and ten degrees on the airplane and you feel like you are going to pass out from heat exhaustion. Shirts not properly buttoned look cheap and unprofessional. So what if you're hot?”

5. “Nylons, not tights, must be free from runs and worn at all times, except during an evacuation, when they should be removed because they are highly flammable and will melt onto your legs.”

6. “Never leave the galley without a coffeepot in your hand and a smile on your face. A smile is the most important part of your uniform. You see, passengers have to buy their tickets, but our smiles are free. . . . You betchya!”

She then went on to explain the importance of shoes and that they had to have a certain heel size (flats are not allowed and all shoes must have between a two- and four-inch heel). “Now we want our employees to shine from head to toe, so be sure you always have your shoes shined—that means always carrying a tin of shoe polish in your tote. Our appearance checkers are stationed around the airport, and they
will
do surprise shoeshine inspections. And every few months we'll have a shoeshine contest. The winner of the contest gets a five-dollar gift certificate to the employee cafeteria, so get out there and shine!” How inspiring.

“And now I am very pleased to present the Singing Supervisors.” With that she left and in came eight impeccably groomed men and women in navy suits and crisp white shirts. There was a moment of silence as they moved into a semicircle. Someone produced a black pitch pipe and someone else counted 1-2-3-4 and then the Stepford Supervisors—I mean the Singing Supervisors—broke into their rendition of the company song. I wasn't sure if should laugh or cry, but I definitely wanted to stick around because the whole scenario was morbidly fascinating. Plus the tune was kind of catchy!

T
HE
W
AFTI
C
OMPANY
S
ONG

We're sorry, we're sorry, we're sorry

We Apologize for This Inconvenience Airlines.

Our service is bad, but it could get worse (cha-cha),

We lost your kid, but we found your purse (cha-cha),

Our food is bad, but we're not to blame,

Try another airline, it's all the same.

Sometimes we're late, but is that a crime?

Does it really matter? It's only time.

At this point a blond man with very white teeth and an orangy bottled tan dramatically broke away from the semicircle while the rest of the group continued softly singing, “Doo, doo, doo . . . cha-cha . . . doo, doo doo.” He flashed his ultra-big white teeth at us and said, “Hey trainees, welcome to WAFTI! You're joining the family at a very special time because we're changing. We're upping our standards and things are getting better every day. This year ten trillion people will travel by air and that makes for some long lines at the ticket counters. So we're hiring
one
more ticket agent and
fifty
more flight attendants this year! Now we recently had to raise our fares, but we're still offering these items to our passengers at no extra charge (and you will be tested on this): free pillows, free blankets (but grab them quickly, there are only five on each plane), free overhead-bin space, and no charge for the lavatories! Yet. We've also added
two
more peanuts per bag for the hungry traveler. And although our seats are still the same small size, we've increased the length of the seat belt to give the illusion of more room.

“Things are certainly improving! But if in the rare and unlikely event that a passenger's expectations are not met, and you have done everything in your power as a service and safety professional, simply have them call the toll-free complaint hotline, 1-800-YOU'RE SCREWED . . . and one of our customer-care professionals will give them twenty free miles on WAFTI so we can have another chance to better serve them on a future trip. Twenty miles may not sound like a lot, but when people have so many complaints it really does add up quickly! Welcome aboard WAFTI, where we are upping our standards.”

He then pirouetted back into the semicircle with a grace and ease that would put Tommy Tune to shame, and the entire group crescendoed into the final tag of the song with a glassy-eyed, feverous, near-religious zeal.

We Apologize for This Inconvenience Airlines

We're upping our standards (upping our standards)

Up Yours!

There was not a dry eye in the entire group of Stepford Supervisors. As for the trainees, we stood frozen in astonishment, mouths agape (almost spellbound), until someone slowly started to clap. This broke into a full round of applause as the group bowed and then went into a reprise of the tag line. More applause, and then the orange-skinned man announced that it was time for us to learn the song, and with that he went into a whirlwind frenzy of passing out sheet music that was registered, numbered, and labeled “Property of WAFTI.” I guess that was meant to discourage us from stealing the sheet music. Not much chance of that.

Throughout the training program trainees were forced to endure many little indignities, not the least of which was the constant reminder that they could be released from the program at any time. One definitely sensed that big brother was watching. Even in the barracks (WAFTI housing for trainees, conveniently located on the property), we began to wonder if our dorm rooms were bugged. The instructors must have had their evaluation meetings on Thursdays because on Fridays, which were known to all trainees as Black Fridays, there would always be one or two less people in class by the end of the day. It would start out like a normal day, we would all be sitting in class, the teacher pontificating on the differences between the premeal beverage service and the postmeal beverage service when suddenly the door, always located in the back of the room, would slowly open and June Larson would appear. No one ever had the guts to actually turn around to see her, but you knew it was June because of her fragrance. She'd quietly walk up behind her victim, tap him or her on the shoulder (a move that came to be called “the claw”), then the victim and June would leave the room together. You never saw the former trainee the rest of the afternoon, or the rest of your life, for that matter. Here today, gone tomorrow. Later, one of June's underlings would come in and remove the victim's belongings and we never heard anything more about it, except for occasional sobbing or screaming as the poor sacrificial lambs made their final exit from WAFTI. It really set a great tone for the weekend, kind of livened up the atmosphere around the barracks. The survivors would spend Saturday and Sunday in paranoid states of misery, wondering why someone was dropped and who would be the next to go. Rumors would be flying around as to why the poor slob was released: “She failed too many tests!” “No, she lied on her application and they discovered she didn't really attend Harvard after all!” “Actually, what really happened is that they found out she was an ax murderer who was wanted in seven states.”

These sorts of rumors would circulate all week until the next Black Friday when there would be a new victim and his or her departure became the topic of discussion throughout the following week.