(Airplane! reference. If you don’t get it, please do me and yourself a favor and watch here!)
April 13th, 2017
Location: Paris CDG runway
I’m on my way home to the US for a big fat Greek Easter and am elated. In such a good mood, in the same way that Big Bad Wolf must have felt when he heard Little Red outside grandma’s door. Only swap Little Red and insert Mary, hoping she brought that little lamb of hers. NOM.
Anyway, on I get to the airport early, which is in and of itself feat for me. Someone should give me a gold medal, only no one cares because I guess that’s normal thing people do, get to places on time or early (so strange). So I’m happy for lamb, happy for early.
We’re finally boarding and I get on my Air France flight, Delta airplane to Newark, New Jersey.
My first thought walking into the aircraft…why so small?
So there are only two aisles, three seats on each side … I’ve been on this type of plane before, several times actually, but like going from Thessaloniki to Athens. If anything happens you can always swim home, in warm Aegean waters. But no, this was a different story. Flying for what, seven/eight hours cross-Atlantic in what we might as well call a large paper plane. Not to think that these are cold, murky Atlantic waters we would fall into, where border-patrol sharks are ready to bite any foreign asses that infiltrate their hood.
Anyway, I’m usually a calm traveler. So, I pretend to still be one.
There is an old French couple in front of me, sitting at the exit row and a French (male) flight attendant comes and recites the same ol’ spiel blah blah in case of emergency are you willing and able to assist everyone off the plane.
And the little old French woman, who is swiftly approaching 80 years replies in French, “if I’m in front, I’ll jump out first!” With a smile on her face.
I laughed because it was hilarious, and her tone was so matter of fact- like as if to say. “What am I, stupid? Save myself first!” She did live through WWII, afterall.
There was another middle aged French couple sitting next to me, and at this point the woman’s kind face which had greeted me with a smile 10 minutes prior, turned to me and grimaced.
Unfortunately, this particular flight attendant had an even harsher reaction, because not only did he not laugh, he turned bright red. Without asking/ saying the old French granny, “is that a joke? Are you joking?” he about-faced and hussled to the front of the plane.
The nice French couple next to me exhaled, then laughed, at which point we all laughed again. But, then the woman said, “il faut pas rigoler..” You cant joke with Americans airlines.
They continue to ask me if I’m American and when I say, yes I was born in the US but my family is Greek – I’m going home for Greek Easter (she can’t see it, but there is a souvla visual, spinning meat slowly around my brain). They both smile and say wow, you speak French très bien!
I was very happy indeed. Early to the airport, on my way to meat – ahem- meet my family, and compliments on language skills. Great start to my trip. But, then I have a thought, what if they’re buttering me up because I’m the next closest person to the escape hatch, and that old woman may or may not be joking, actually lol.
Fast forward 2 minutes and another more important looking woman, who doesn’t speak French (super useful) comes to speak to the old couple, I’m sure the terrified looking French flight attendant went to fetch his boss. The couples’ middle-aged daughter, who is sitting with her kids in the row behind me hears her parents voices again and stands up to see what the fuss is about. Thank God she speaks in English because grumpy stewardess cat over here doesn’t seem to have patience for jokes on planes. The daughter asks her what is wrong. Her parents are whispering to her in French that they made a “blague” but obviously they realize now their mistake.
She glares at them and is over apologetic to this woman who is adamant that terrorism is so wide spread these days that it can even come in the form of smiling 90 year old French country folk.
Anyway, this new flight attendant who has either been taken away from her family or sex for too long, says “I’m sorry but I cannot let them sit here unless they agree/ understand that they must help everyone get off the plane before they can exit in case of emergency”. The daughter says yes yes of course. It was just a joke.
The flight attendant replies with her outside voice, “THEY MUST SAY IT.”
My blood pressure is rising and I am taking deep breaths and trying to stay calm, and think of Mary counting all of her sheep.
So the daughter tells her elderly parents in French, “you need to tell.”
And the old man grumbles something, and finally yells “PAS DE PROBLEM! NOH PROBE- LEM!” and smiles (probably thinking, WTF has this world come to)
Lesson learned. No jokes, cigarettes, or snakes on planes. That era has long gone.
I smile at the woman next to me, she makes a “holy shit” type of face and rolls her eyes, exasperated, and rightfully so. She says, “that wouldn’t have happened with a French airline.” She shrugs and smiles, because in the end – that shit was hilarious.
I wanted to say something like “well, that’s the first time Americans seemed more uptight than the French!” But I just smiled and put my headphones in. Which they made me take out 3 minutes after.
Just closed my eyes and prayed that nothing, like say, a rogue pigeon, would hit us at full speed, because then this little toy plane is fucked.
Bon voyage(s) and filakia,
Steph
The Phillage Girl 