38 Aviation forWomen;May/June 2015
have more to offer than
others, and just what
someone finds appealing
will vary from person to
person. Many nights your
time is just too short to do
anything except sleep. Not
all crew members I have
flown with agree with me
on the subject of layovers,
and I have often heard
groans that in this city or
that there is “nothing to
do,” or worse. As a rule, I
do not think that one can
blame an entire city when
an overnight fails to live
up to expectations; it is
simply circumstance.
As a rule that is true, but they do say
that the exception proves the rule. I personally do have one solitary exception
for which I have an unshakeable negative bias that has lingered with me from
my earliest days with the airline. In all
honesty, I can’t fault the city for what
happened, but just as a case of food poisoning will taint your affection for a
dish, so have I been tainted against this
particular city.
On a long-ago trip with days’ worth
of pre-dawn wake-up calls and short
layovers, my crew and I had finally
gotten to an overnight that was long
enough to enjoy some beautiful spring
weather and maybe even have a beer or
two in the evening. Like a puppy who
is pathetically eager to escape its crate,
I could not wait to put in my earbuds and head into the sun-
shine to explore a bit outdoors. The hotel where we were
staying was located on
a service road with little
nearby except some va-
cant land (which oddly
featured a fire hydrant
knee-deep in water)
and a stretch of woods.
I love being outside, so
I was enjoying my little
walk and even picking
some early wildflowers
as I went.
About a quarter of a
mile from the hotel, nestled in the pines at the
side of the road I saw
some crate-style beehives and the beekeeper
in full kit. Never having
seen such a thing in real life, I slowed
to watch him move boxes of bees from
the woods to the bed of his pickup
truck, and vice versa. From a safe distance the beekeeper and I chatted a bit,
and a couple of bees bumped into me
all dopey—nothing to worry about. You
may be ahead of me at this point.
In the course of his work the beekeeper dropped one of the hives a little
less than gently, and the bees came out
swinging. Why they chose me as a target I have no idea. I noticed the slight
increase of zooming near my head and
took a step or two back. Just when he
suggested that, perhaps I should move
a bit farther away, the bees got organized and I took off down the street
with them swarming around my head.
It can happen in times of crisis that your consciousness
will become split, and that was indeed the case for me. Half
It would be wonderful if all of the classically glamorous images of airline life—jetting around the globe, visiting fascinating
places, and meeting beautiful people—were always true. Anyone
who has been a working aviator for more than six weeks can tell you that it is simply
not possible for this to be accurate all of the time. Naturally there are some places that
Best Bee-havIor
IN the
Push
Devan norris
I can’t fault the city
for what happened,
but just as a case
of food poisoning
will taint your
affection for a dish,
so have I been
tainted against this
particular city.
