Just because I’m a Flight Attendant, Doesn’t mean I’m Stupid.
But, what shocked me the most was having to cut off a man about 60 years old.
There was four guys traveling from California to Mexico. Supposedly, the oldest of them all was their “father” though he didn’t look old enough to be the father these three other guys. Anyway, Dad, we’ll call him, sat in first class with me and the remaining three all over 40 years old, sat in row 6.
During boarding the guys in 6 started screaming “DAD! Hey DAD! DADDY!” trying to get his attention. Of course, he didn’t hear them. The flight attendant working the aisle proceeded to tell them that theres no way he’ll hear them screaming so just to quiet down.
During the initial beverage service they each ordered two drinks. Like I said, not unusual during spring break time, and headed to a very spring-break like destination. Their Dad also came to back to visit every now and then, keeping the yelling down.
While I was walking through the cabin collecting trash I noticed that they appeared to be intoxicated. Very much so. Naturally, I told the crew to stop serving them drinks.
All was fine, and they never questioned why they never got their third and fourth can of beer. They kept asking about it though, wondering when we were going to deliver it, why it was taking so long — but they never demanded it and finally got the hint.
However, one of them decided he wasn’t done and was on a mission to find more alcohol. Where is it always free and flowing (within reason)? First class.
He walks up to first class while I was behind the curtain and sits in the empty seat near his Dad. He knew, that I knew he was there. It didn’t seem to phase him though. Finally, he rings the call button. Really? You’re not even a first class passenger and you’re going to ring the call button — that takes nerve.
My Dad would like another beer.
I knew those words were going to come flowing out of his mouth — so I was ready. “Really? He’s been drinking white wine the whole flight long — he wouldn’t be having another beer, he’d be having a beer.”
Whatever. He wants a beer.
Okay, I’ll play along. I pour a beer into a plastic cup, fully knowing it wasn’t for my first class passenger, and place it on the Dad’s tray table, furthest away from his “son.” Then, there I stood, waiting for his Dad to even take a sip.
“You can leave now,” the son said.
No, I’m actually waiting to make sure your Dad likes the type of beer I poured. After a few seconds I headed back into the galley, but just as quickly turned back around to catch his son reaching for the glass of beer.
“What do you think you’re doing, sir? You said that beer was for your father, so let him drink it.” He was a bit shocked that I caught him. Really? Did you think I really didn’t know where the beer was going?
He continues to bring the glass closer to his mouth, and was about to chug it. I took it out of his hand and threw it away. “Sir, you need to return to your seat now, unless you’d like to pay the upgrade seat and sit with your father.”
You’re such a brat, you know that?
That’s all he could say to me. I’m a brat? I’ve been called worse. But, just how drunk are you to think that I wouldn’t you notice taking a first class seat and ordering the one item you’ve been drinking on board and expect me to believe it was for someone else? Drunk enough that I was going to make sure he didn’t drink that beer.