The Great Read Strap Escape
It was my first year as a flight attendant, and I was feeling rather pleased with myself that day.
My hair was pulled back into a perfectly smooth bun—not a strand out of place. I’d slicked it back so tightly it looked almost painted on. Our uniform was dark enough to hide the colour of a bra underneath, so I hadn’t thought twice about wearing a red one.
I felt polished. Put together. A little more confident than usual.
The back rows were full of male passengers. As I served them, I started noticing something odd. They were all trying very hard not to laugh. Their lips were pressed together, their shoulders trembled, and their eyes seemed to follow me as I moved along the aisle.
I couldn’t work out what they found so funny.
Maybe they liked my energy. Maybe they thought I was pretty. I smiled back, accepting the attention I was sure I’d earned.
The more senior cabin crew member working with me was smiling too. Not just a polite smile, either. She had that look people get when they know something you don’t—and are enjoying the fact that you haven’t figured it out yet.
“What is it?” I whispered. “Tell me.”
She just looked at me, her smile growing wider.
I kept going with the service, still completely in the dark. I was pouring hot water for the coffee and had to lift my arm. Something brushed against my upper arm.
I turned to look over my shoulder. I thought a passenger might have touched me to get my attention, but no one seemed to need anything. I dismissed the feeling and carried on pouring.
Then it happened again.
This time, I looked down.
My eyes followed the red strap dangling from my arm. For a second, I just stared at it, trying to understand what I was seeing.
Oh my God. How did that happen?
Whatever my face did next must have been the punchline everyone had been waiting for. The moment I realised what was hanging off my arm, the passengers lost the battle. Laughter burst through the back of the cabin.
My face burned. A moment earlier, I’d been convinced they were smiling because of my energy—or maybe my looks. Now I understood why every pair of eyes had been following me.
I started laughing too. Then I turned to my colleague.
“Why didn’t you tell me? You just stood there watching me!”
She tried to answer, but she was laughing too hard.
So much for all that effortless confidence. At least I’d given the passengers a memorable coffee service.
