I used to think that stewardesses were the most admirable persons in the world, with the most important jobs in the world, next to that of the pilots, of course. When I flew for the first time, with my parents to Benidorm ( my father brought several cans of brown beans in case there would be nothing to eat in such a poor country he thought Spain was), I was in total admiration for them, they were so decent, pretty and nice. The stewards were another category, I wanted to be like them.
My parents were giving them orders, as if they were the mighty and wealthy, and the stewardesses and stewards the servants. In life, like the plane was Spain, already.
During my thirties, a long time ago, a thought that a plane was like a bus, with drivers and controllers with good eyes and high heels. Nowadays I can’t wait to clear the sky, spread my wings and act like a plane. But I won’t because of my vertigo.
And now enough of flying. There is a bird in our communal garden singing pfiet pfiet pfiet pfiet etcetera and continue. Too much wind for mosquitoes.
The end: this morning while I was running with my dog, I confronted a stewardess dressed in KLM blue on the zebra path, hauling two mamut suitcases on wheels. She smiled broadly at me and said lightheartedly : good morning! She made my day and it was still that early and I ran for more than an hour, I flew like an amateur, like Mega Mindy.
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