Top 5 Pet Peeve Countdown: Moments When You're Just Gonna Lose It

Let's face it. Every job comes with its own fascinating range of nuisances that, on certain days when your mood just ain't up for fascination, can simply t-i-c-k you off. How many times have you stood over a broken printer and wished it'd fit through the office window? Well, day-to-day inflight workouts come with its whole score of nuisances that can put even the most hospitable flight attendant to test when a flight is full house and stress is ringing high.

Captured here is a Countdown of Top 5 Pet Peeves on which I believe all cabin crew will find common ground. Again, these are pet peeves - obnoxious, petty acts that passengers unknowingly do to make our lives just a tad more difficult. So, here's a friendly little hint, if you will: DON'T DO IT.

Pet Peeve No. 5 - A moment when I wish I have a third hand (to slap someone)
Often times we carry out a "pre-poured" service in Economy Class, where the crew carry tray-loads of juices and water and pause at each row for self-help service. "Care for some apple juice, orange juice, or water?" "Apple Juice." Then the passenger just sits, mindlessly waiting for you to extend a third arm and hand him a glass. If you haven't noticed, there are more than a dozen glassfuls of liquids on the tray and it requires at least two hands to bear the weight and balance. "Sir, please help yourself." Behind this polite response really is a whole lot of fierceness. And if that's not irritating enough? Try having a passenger hand over a ball of trash as you go with your tray of juices. Um, if you haven't noticed, I only have two hands. They're both in use.

Pet Peeve No. 4 - A moment when I wish I have legs of steel
Now, let's say the aisle extending from rows 54 to 70 is at least 40 feet long. Someone in row 55 requests for a pillow. You search at the nearest spot and finds none, trek all the way back down to the galley and hunt for one, then return to the passenger. "Actually, can I have two?" Make up your mind, lady. You return with another pillow, next her partner decides he wants one, too. There you go again, and that's a distance of 240 feet covered in just a matter of five minutes. Multiply that by hundreds of passengers and requests. No wonder, we crew often say "I just walked from Hong Kong to Vancouver." It's meant to be taken literally, in terms of miles by the fourth digit.

Pet Peeve No. 3 - A moment when I wish you'd just wet your pants
It's midway through the meal service. I'm bending up and down, reaching left and right, tugging in and out of the food cart when at the next moment I stand up, a passenger towers at the other end of your food cart, quietly demanding passage to the toilets. You've gotta be kidding me is usually what first comes to mind. Timing, people, timing. We're in the middle of the cabin, am I to drag my cart all the way down just to let you pass? First, this "runway" discriminates against full-figured bodies while the cart is in the way. Second, the cart is one heavy cow that is more difficult to maneuver than most think. Third and more importantly, little do passengers know, I must keep up to pace with the other aisle or else slews of consequences ensue. To avoid falling too far behind, I usually continue service until his or her presence becomes unbearable. Next time that happens, just be reminded that as I smile letting you squeeze through, I am really despising you.

Pet Peeve No. 2! - A moment when you wish you can BAWL
- "Sir, would you care for fish with rice, beef with potatoes, or pasta?"
- "Chicken."
Seriously, Jesus Christ. For the umpteenth time I repeat the menu as I go row after row; my smile is fading and my throat drying fast. Please don't make me repeat it once more than necessary. "Sir, we are serving fish, beef, or pasta today. Which one would you prefer?" "No chicken?" I suck in a deep breath, but really I'm throwing fits inside. For some reason, passengers who commit such crimes are always inevitably Filipino. I look to the other side of the aisle and fantasize leaving him without food. "Sir," I tear out a spare menu card as my voice incrementally raises, "(now read and listen!!!) IT'S FISH, BEEF, OR PASTA," still with a smile - an awkward one at best. The passenger then studies my menu in slow motion - even though he already has one - still searching for his imaginary chicken. "No chi..." "NO."

Pet Peeve No. 1 - The moment when you seriously lose it
Once again I go row after row, this time collecting trays. There's masticated food, melted ice-cream, greasy cutlery, sloshing liquids, displaced dishes and simply nastiness. But it's all good as this is just normal daily routine, as long as the trays fit snugly into the cart slots and nothing gets stuck ('coz that will classify as a disaster, not a nuisance). That's until I arrive at the next row where two - sometimes even three - passengers had stacked individual plastic-ware and trays into one neat pile. This, my friends, tops the list and warrants some speechless implosion.

Most passengers who commit this crime do so to free up and stow away their folding table; others do so with intentions to make our lives easier. But thanks, you've just tripled our workload, as trays only fit into a cart the way it comes out. I dare say that not one crew has shunned such obstacles in their flying career, and different crew react differently. Some deliberately and glaringly pick through and separate individual dish and tray before the passengers' eyes as a way of saying f-you; others mutter curses as they dump the pile on the floor and sort out the dirty mess. Either way, we will despise you forever. Please, try not to stack the dishes.

Pride or Avarice: the contemporary Chinese struggle

Once again, the Chinese have made international headlines. But this time it isn't for the whooping success or the glory of hosting a prodigious Olympic Games - rather, it is the mounting scandal of tainted milk that has made such newfangled pride ephemeral like fireflies and undid all renewed optimism towards all things "Made in China." Since previous food scares involving eggs, freshwater fish - even soy sauce, this privation of ethics, driven by greed of the minority few and tainted by unrestrained capitalism - has put the nation to shame over and again.

This greed and obscured superego, unfortunately, does not trouble only the big guys in the factories, but trickle down to the very civilian that travels across the globe. The obsession for all things "free" and the maximization of value for personal gains, regardless of one's actual need, can be said an ugly human nature; it may also be said to be a reality in contemporary Chinese society.

Once, a mainlander came to our galley and asked for twenty-six - that's twenty-six! - packs of playing cards. Twenty-six? Yes, these are souvenirs that we give upon request for enjoyment inflight, but twenty-six? We barely even carry half a dozen in the galley! "Er shi-liu? Nin ganma na-me tanxin??" A senior colleague actually chastised the man. "Twenty-six? Why are you being so greedy?" The passenger then sheepishly adjusted his request: "Na-me... geiwo liangfu haole (well then... just give me two packs then)." Not surprisingly, in my experience, 9 out of 10 passengers who ever requested for free playing cards on my flights are Mandarin-speakers. Not one ever opened the packet inflight.

The fear for missing out, or letting potential gains slip through one's fingers, takes various shapes and forms. Once, a mainlander seated among a whole tour group demanded for a pillow, and all crew feared exactly what drama was to ensue. When one pillow comes in sight, no matter how discreetly the crew tries to hide it, there immediately ignites a centenary Battle for Pillows. One Chinese notices the other getting a pillow, then no way in hell will he be left out. "Ehhh! Geiwo yi ge! (Yo! Gimme one!)" The crew flees, only to succumb to what's inevitable, and returns with the precious few remaining cushions that are oh so difficult to gather in the cabin. Before the pillow actually makes it safely to its primary suitor, various strong arms - accompanied by aggressive outcry and frankly plenty of rudeness - have reached out and grabbed them from her arms. More raucousness follows among those who feel they got cheated. There are only so few pillows on a short flight. Do they really need the pillow? No.

Working on steep slopes

Recently after we took off from Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, a fellow crew tripped and tumbled down the Business Class (J-class) cabin so steep she could have theoretically rolled all the way to the tail had she not slammed hard against our galley-side lavatory with a sickening whhhaam.

Steep slopes - yet another potent work hazard - are common on short flights where severe time constraints mean cabin crew are off to work immediately during ascent. Seatbelts unbuckled, shoulder harness released - we begin the calorie-burning, mile-hike up the galley. When the world around you is still leaning at an angle, literally, it feels like climbing on a treadmill - only that we look kind of funny straddling at an angle, too.

I once saw a peculiar little grape bouncing, skipping and hopping down the aisle from J-class and made its way through the Economy cabin. Everything on the galley-top rolls backwards. Sometimes the cabin can still be so steep that we stand at 35 degree angle, parallel to the suspended curtains. Now imagine dragging a full cart out against gravity. Weighing over hundreds pounds (that cow can be quite deceptive on wheels), a fully loaded cart can break a back.

On this flight, soon after I secured my balance in the galley, I witnessed our Senior Purser in front tripping and began her hair-raising number. Remember the scene of Titanic sinking? Only that she wasn't sliding down; she looked like she got hit by a truck. As I rushed forward in hopes of intervening a pending, unsightly crash down the aisle, she took a slight turn and smashed hard, face first, against the lavatory door. She then keeled over, hand on her chest, face twisted in agony. We held our breath, rushing forward to assist her, but were more or less relieved that she did not roll down the aisle. The damage would have been real ugly.

Alcohol at 30,000 ft: the Japanese lady who got drunk

Passengers drink on a flight for various reasons. Aussies consume lots of reds and whites because it is a lifestyle. Japanese men chug their Asahi beer because it is part of their diet. Indians demand lots of Whiskey for yet unknown reasons. The mainland Chinese, um, concoct bizarre "cocktails" because it is a novelty, but even more so because alcohol appears to be flowing "free"-ly inflight. No matter their background, the average passenger takes liquor inflight as a sedative, while others use it to exhibit worldly sophistication.

It is no news that the effects of alcohol double at 30,000 feet. While I have yet to witness fist fights and exhibitionist behavior induced by intoxication (trust me, these happen!), I have seen something recently quite of lesser aggression, but no less embarrassment.

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A petite Japanese young woman boarded my flight to Bangkok with a few bags and a big bleached hair. No sooner was lunch served that she was found passed out sleeping. My colleague, who was in charge of tray distribution, skipped her after several unsuccessful attempts to wake her. Half an hour later, a call light went chiming like crazy. My colleague rushed out only to get entangled in a mind boggling encounter with this woman, where language barrier limited both to body language.

We reckoned she was upset because she woke up without a meal. Explaining to her that we attempted waking her was challenging enough, try explaining to her what we had on the menu (how does one enact "beef" with body language?). In an act of frustration, she held up a peace sign - like local and Japanese girls do all too often when posing a picture - only that her attitude was less than kawaii. Two glasses of led wine. Suspecting that she already had a hangover, I hesitated giving her more than one, but given her persistence, We granted her wish.

Up till descent, the second glass was untouched. She has long since passed out. I woke her to get her seatback straightened and dumped out her wine for landing. Soon after the last passenger disembarked, I came to a sight never quite seen before - the woman still strapped to the seat, snoring. I looked at my colleague across the aisle, who asked after a pause, "is she drunk?"

"Ma'am, excuse me, Ma'am?" I gently tapped her shoulder, trying my best to keep a straight face. She reluctantly stirred in her seat, her soul still wandering elsewhere. "Um, we have arrived in Bangkok." Her soul slowly returned, though her body was still strapped to the seat.

She began murmuring, her head swaying and her hair more disheveled than ever, she began fondling with her seatbelt buckle like a child would a logi-cube. She weakly fiddled with it to no avail while I was feeling increasingly awkward staring at her with such disbelief. You're so not going to have me sticking my hands into your crotch to undo the seatbelt for you! But when I gave up waiting, I quickly but cautiously reached in and did her the favor. She then deliriously floated off, her face now comically flushed with humiliation and confusion. She began tumbling down the aisle. "Ma'am... you forgot your bags."

The true humiliation has yet to come. My seniors up front stared with wide eyes as she finally made her way to the exit. She subsequently stumbled out in a wide zigzag fashion onto the airbridge teeming with Thai cleaners who began gathering for such a delightful sight. "Mao?" more than twenty cleaners exchanged funny looks then turned to me, "mao?" Watching the poor lady weaving across the bridge, stopping, and sporadically keeling over, I answered assuredly, "yes indeed, very." Even though I know only a few words of Thai, it won't take an expert to guess this one.