Preparing for Departure

In 2001 I went on a high school trip to Spain.  I was gone for about 11 days and hit pretty much most of the country in that short time.  It was marvelous, and Madrid will always hold a special place in heart as the first European city I ever laid eyes on.  I didn’t leave the country again until 2003 when I did a study abroad in Valencia, Spain for seven weeks.  I guess it was then that symptoms began to show of  a long-dormant condition – wanderlüst.

So a few years pass, and I find myself in Argentina trying to make a living as an English teacher while simultaneously getting my travel fix.  The move down south didn’t work out for myriad reasons (read: a girl) so I go back to my dead-end job in telemarketing in Athens, GA.  I hate this job, and I’m constantly looking for a way to leave the country.  I see epically cheap airfare to Monterrey, Mexico, and I try to think of ways I could make that happen with no money and no prospects.  It’s then I consider being a flight attendant.

I get a phone interview with Art* from Delta* as a Spanish-speaking FA.  After the interview he tells me they aren’t actually hiring Spanish speakers anymore but that he’ll keep my information handy in case they have a bunch of idiots quit or miraculously take order for a bazillion new planes to go where they speak Spanish.  Needless to say, he never calls back.

Fast forward a year and you’ll find me living in just outside of Atlanta trying (desperately, and to no avail) to teach high school Spanish to a bunch of thugs who aren’t even on the college prep track.  I last all of two months before I finally decide to quit – and in the middle of the semester no less.  After a few months of unemployment – which was pretty rockin’ for a while – I finally realize that what I really, truly, in my heart of hearts want to do is travel.  Having neither the means to go the vagabonding route nor the ability to fly planes I decide to try my hand again at being a flight attendant.

I apply at the local carriers which don’t work the way I want – an incomplete application submitted, no call back, and getting booted from the cattle call for apparently not reading the safety briefing to their satisfaction.  I didn’t want to move from Georgia, but I needed a job and I wanted this one, so I apply to all the big boys.  I get a call from two, but no job offer, which was serendipitous since I’d have ended up in the unemployment line.  Also at this time my sister is looking to move to Charlotte, NC for a change of scenery, and thinking it’d be nice to be close to family I look into all the airlines that have a base in CLT.  As it happens, she never moved, and I didn’t get based there, so now I’m stuck living somewhere I don’t much care for (disclaimer: I have had the option of changing my base to CLT, but I’d really rather be on reserve in an outstation than a hub).

I’ve only been at this whole stewardess thing for about a year and a half, holding a build up line for the fifth time in 17 months.  I love my job.  I like most of the people I work with.  I don’t really care for the passengers.  I hate the pay.  Let’s see where this goes.

*Names not changed because identities do not need protecting.

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