Deep Vacation Thought

I took a long weekend to visit Baby Jesus and The Saint and on the plane had this thought:

A flight attendant’s job is to insure your safety in the event of a catastrophe. Oxygen masks, water landings, flotation devices, fire rescue, first aid, all things dramatic and scary. However, in the absence of a disaster, they have to peddle soft drinks and salty snacks. Do we make a paramedic become a waitress in their down time? And travel to different cities while doing so? No. We don’t. Just like we don’t ask surgeons to stock grocery shelves between appointments.

I am all about efficiency, so I understand that these employees need to earn their paychecks, but it is ridiculous to have them passing out credit card applications. And isn’t anyone worried that these mundane jobs will impact their judgment in an emergency? “That bitch kept hitting the call button, she will be the LAST one down the wing slide.” Or “Grab my ass again, sir, and I’ll make sure your oxygen mask doesn’t work.”



I Took a Bat to the Face

Yesterday, while helping the Handsome Hermit put away groceries, I opened the corner cabinet and a bat flew out, hitting me┬áRIGHT IN THE FACE. I screamed, started to flail around to get the thing away from me and managed to hit it so it fell onto the floor, stunned. The Handsome Hermit didn’t realize what was going on at first, until he saw the beast laying there. He managed to kick it out the door where it landed on the deck, it laid there while the Hermit and Lou the Cat inspected it (I have absolutely no idea why). It twitched a few times before finally managing to get the motivation to fly away.

The Handsome Hermit spent the rest of the night trying to figure out how the bat got into the house and more specifically, how it got into that cabinet. I, however, spent the rest of the night trying to forget the feel of that furry body against my skin. Neither one of us was very successful. I am scarred for life.