Ever had the experience where you ask a cabin crew for a drink, and a moment later she wanders up and down the aisle with your drink unable to locate you in your seat? You'd wonder, how could she possibly forget who ordered the drink only a minute ago? Now think twice...
This occurred on a recent flight and on almost every flight, only with slight permutations. With an important task in mind, I must hurry to the galley from Door 3, a distance covering roughly twenty rows of seats that typically requires no more than 15 seconds. "Typical" here should be redefined, because someone's bound to stop you on your way.
"'S'cuse me, can I have a blanket and a pillow?" A passenger would halt you no sooner than you make your mark, get set, ready and go. "Certainly, I will bring you one in a minute." I take a glance at her seat number and make a mental note: 31 A, a pale-faced lady with funny hair - a blanket and a pillow.
Noticing a cabin crew approaching, a passenger at 35 D anxiously reaches out his hand and asks for a glass of tomato juice like there is no tomorrow.
31 A, blanket and pillow; 35 D, middle-aged man, a TJ. With ice. Yuck. I can handle that. "Sure, I will be right back."
I run the two requests over and over in my mind with relative ease as I pick up my speed towards the galley. Then I spot two heads peering out at me from afar. I accelerate and keep my eyes forward, anticipating only the inevitable.
"Uh... my headsets don't seem to work, can you bring me another one?" One complains.
By now, I begin to feel a strain on my short term memory. I glance at the galley - it's only ten feet away. Shall I give in and drop all these orders down on paper, or take a gamble that I'd reach the galley in no time with just three orders? When it doesn't involve safety, risks somehow always seem to be more appealing.
Alright. 42 aisle seat, replace his headset; 31 window seat, a blanket... and pillow; and 35... or was it 36? a TJ... I can still make it. By now, the seat numbers seem to blur with the faces that my brain cognitively associates with each request. Go, go, I'm almost there. I aim for my finishing line as my mind frantically organizes and prioritizes my tasks. Where are the extra headsets anyway? And do we have anymore...
"S'cuse me, I want a coffee," A stuck-up mother stops me in mid-thought. For Pete's sake, please refrain from asking for coffee unless we are serving it. It's one of the most labor-intensive beverages. Then she slowly turns to her even more stuck-up brat of a daughter, "how about you? Do you want apple juice? Or orange juice?" "And an apple juice for my daughter," she concludes. Till here, I would have already dumped all my attempts to remember seat numbers. My original task has long been forgone.
A few moments later, out in the cabin there I am, a blanket and pillow tucked under my arm, a tray in hand with a revolting glass of iced tomato juice, coffee and apple juice. Something seems missing, but I'd rather not be grouched at by the pale-faced lady who now must be distressed by the long wait for her blanket. Passengers never realize that they are one among hundreds that we serve, and expect their orders to be fulfilled instantaneously.
With several tasks completed on my mental checklist, I wander the aisle with the lonely tomato juice, hoping that the now unidentifiable middle-aged man would graciously identify his drink. Sometimes these passengers never speak up, or have their eyes closed, and whatever they ordered would pace around the aisle and eventually go back to the galley without an owner.
At the beginning, I thought such daily drills of short-term memory could challenge and possibly even strengthen my memory as I age. However, as I catch myself blanking out, I start to fear that the over-consumption of RAM inflight will rather lead to an onset of early Alzheimer's.
This occurred on a recent flight and on almost every flight, only with slight permutations. With an important task in mind, I must hurry to the galley from Door 3, a distance covering roughly twenty rows of seats that typically requires no more than 15 seconds. "Typical" here should be redefined, because someone's bound to stop you on your way.
"'S'cuse me, can I have a blanket and a pillow?" A passenger would halt you no sooner than you make your mark, get set, ready and go. "Certainly, I will bring you one in a minute." I take a glance at her seat number and make a mental note: 31 A, a pale-faced lady with funny hair - a blanket and a pillow.
Noticing a cabin crew approaching, a passenger at 35 D anxiously reaches out his hand and asks for a glass of tomato juice like there is no tomorrow.
31 A, blanket and pillow; 35 D, middle-aged man, a TJ. With ice. Yuck. I can handle that. "Sure, I will be right back."
I run the two requests over and over in my mind with relative ease as I pick up my speed towards the galley. Then I spot two heads peering out at me from afar. I accelerate and keep my eyes forward, anticipating only the inevitable.
"Uh... my headsets don't seem to work, can you bring me another one?" One complains.
By now, I begin to feel a strain on my short term memory. I glance at the galley - it's only ten feet away. Shall I give in and drop all these orders down on paper, or take a gamble that I'd reach the galley in no time with just three orders? When it doesn't involve safety, risks somehow always seem to be more appealing.
Alright. 42 aisle seat, replace his headset; 31 window seat, a blanket... and pillow; and 35... or was it 36? a TJ... I can still make it. By now, the seat numbers seem to blur with the faces that my brain cognitively associates with each request. Go, go, I'm almost there. I aim for my finishing line as my mind frantically organizes and prioritizes my tasks. Where are the extra headsets anyway? And do we have anymore...
"S'cuse me, I want a coffee," A stuck-up mother stops me in mid-thought. For Pete's sake, please refrain from asking for coffee unless we are serving it. It's one of the most labor-intensive beverages. Then she slowly turns to her even more stuck-up brat of a daughter, "how about you? Do you want apple juice? Or orange juice?" "And an apple juice for my daughter," she concludes. Till here, I would have already dumped all my attempts to remember seat numbers. My original task has long been forgone.
A few moments later, out in the cabin there I am, a blanket and pillow tucked under my arm, a tray in hand with a revolting glass of iced tomato juice, coffee and apple juice. Something seems missing, but I'd rather not be grouched at by the pale-faced lady who now must be distressed by the long wait for her blanket. Passengers never realize that they are one among hundreds that we serve, and expect their orders to be fulfilled instantaneously.
With several tasks completed on my mental checklist, I wander the aisle with the lonely tomato juice, hoping that the now unidentifiable middle-aged man would graciously identify his drink. Sometimes these passengers never speak up, or have their eyes closed, and whatever they ordered would pace around the aisle and eventually go back to the galley without an owner.
*************
Recently, I have noticed myself becoming increasingly forgetful. I separate a pair of socks, sit and put on one, then cannot remember where the other one is. I was relieved to hear from my colleagues that I'm not the only one apparently suffering from, uh, short-term dementia outside of work.At the beginning, I thought such daily drills of short-term memory could challenge and possibly even strengthen my memory as I age. However, as I catch myself blanking out, I start to fear that the over-consumption of RAM inflight will rather lead to an onset of early Alzheimer's.
4 comments:
Alvin, I think you can start to write a book based on your adventure. HOnestly, your writing is delightful and fun to read! Nice story as always!
As a cabin crew, I totally agree and understand what you experienced. I always forget the orders, seat numbers...but suddenly remember when I look at the pax's face~ HAHA~
Rachel
Suddenly feeling guilty for asking for the coffee last time...
Terry aka Penguin
Thanks for your comments - they're very encouraging!
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