When I was a junior in high school I thought the most exciting and rewarding career in the world was one of an Airline Stewardess. Airline Stewardesses, in my eyes, were pretty, poised and polished. They always knew the right thing to say to passengers and could comfort frightened, nervous people anxious about flying. They could soothe restless young children and intervene in arguments between unruly flyers.
Everyone looked up to them. At least my fantasy about the life of Airline Hostesses told me so.
So I did my due diligence and researched ways of getting hired by an airline company. I discovered a telephone number in newspaper ad as representing a top Airline. It advertised jobs for Stewardesses and offered interviews with representatives of the company. I reached a woman, who told me to be in Manhattan at 11 o’clock Tuesday morning at the Marriott Motel, suite 204.
I prepared for my big day by dressing in my best suit; the most sophisticated one I owned, brushed my long hair back in a mature bun and carefully applied some lipstick. I was transformed into at least an eighteen year old, I thought.
As I prepared to leave the house to catch a train into the city my father asked, “Where are you going?”
“To a job interview in New York.”
“What job interview?”
“For an Airline Hostess job. I’m meeting Mr. Lombardi at the Marriott at 11 O’Clock.”
“You know how I feel about Airline Stewardesses,” said Dad. “Not only that but you think nothing of meeting a strange man in a motel room? Where’s your head? What kind of sense does that show?”
“If you go into the city for that interview don’t bother coming back home!”
Dad never spoke to me that way before. What should I do?
I never went for the interview. I do notice that modern Airline Hostesses are older,
heavier, and frequently married women, something that was unheard of when I longed for
AirlineHostesses are not as awesome as they were in the 50’s.