Not that long ago, I had an experience unusual for a custard – a plane flight. I expect my readers are staring – well, fine. Custards can do anything. Perhaps I shall skydive one day.
I had a reasonable time during the flight, enjoying my contempt for all the security. Eatables get quite a bad rap. One of the more entertaining parts of the journey (apart from the man in front of me sneezing unexpectedly with a sound like waves crashing on rocks shortly before landing) was watching the flight attendants. Think of all the adverts for airlines that feature flight attendants. They look incredibly pulled together, and sleek – probably to match the plane exterior. Nobody puts it better than a favourite author of mine, who, though she was not actually discussing a flight attendant, once described one of her characters as seeming like “a box expensive jewellery might come in… neat and compact and shiny”. When I first read this, my mind jumped to sophisticated “air hostesses”.
While this is not entirely false advertising, it is true that things can never be quite how they appear in the world of adverts and media. The flight attendants are real people, even if they are acting professionally – and they usually are. Besides, one important point (never portrayed in any adverts) is that part of a flight attendant’s job does involve acting rather ridiculously, at least at the beginning of the flight. Fine, nothing wrong with a safety routine at the start of the trip – important, actually. But why make the attendants serve as live signposts to point to the emergency exits? It does look a bit absurd. If I saw someone behaving like that outside of the plane circumstances, I should probably assume they were a) directing traffic, b)doing arm exercises, c) being a sundial or weathervane, or d) trying to swim.
I don’t really remember much else about the flight, but I know loyal readers realise that one doesn’t read Lemon Custard for an average perspective, because I zone in on the more obscure things.