Airline school

“Good morning, ladies. Please be seated.”

Ms. Taylor stood in the front of the classroom and greeted the prospective flight attendants. Her dark hair fell to her pink blouse, and she wore a striped scarf around her neck. Next, she handed out thick training manuals.

“Look these over,” she instructed. “I’ll highlight the areas you’ll need to know by heart.”

We sat four abreast at six-foot-long tables, dressed in our best office attire. Eight tables shared the large instruction room. I knew no one and introduced myself to the gal sitting to my right.

“Hi. I’m Bobbi. Are you from California?”

“Sarah. Thank you. I’m from Switzerland,” she answered with a slight accent.

What a gorgeous woman. Sarah had platinum blond hair cut in a short bob and a flawless complexion. She wore a navy skirt with a white blouse and gold pin. She was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. I immediately felt awed, but she smiled and said, “I’m so glad you said hello. I don’t know anyone.”

“Neither do I. If you need help, let me know and we can study together.”

Just then, a short, balding man entered the room. He sat on the corner of a front table, looking us over and smiling. Once he noticed Sarah, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Her beauty was that striking.

“Please welcome Mr. Daly, the owner of World Airways,” Miss Taylor said. His stocky build and jovial nature belied his aggressive character.

“In 1950,” Miss Taylor continued, “when Mr. Daly was only twenty-seven, he bought the organization. Since then, he has expanded it into one of the largest nonscheduled airlines in the world.”

Mr. Daly stood as we applauded him.

“Thank you. And thank you for applying,” he said. “I look forward to having you join my company.”

After Mr. Daly left, Ms. Taylor said, “Please call me Diane.” She then pointed to a dark-haired young woman sitting in the front row by the window.

“Tell me your name,” Ms. Taylor requested. “And where are you from?”

An Asian woman started the introduction process. Thick, black hair framed her attractive face, and her dark eyes sparkled when she said, “My name is Emily Chin. I’m originally from Hong Kong. I now live in San Francisco.”

More introductions were made. Half the students were residents of foreign countries, mostly from Europe. They sported all shades of skin and hair color.

At the end of the day, as we were scooting back our chairs and getting up to leave, Diane cautioned us, “Be ready for a rough four weeks. Only fifteen of you will be asked to join the airline.”

We glanced around the room. There were roughly thirty women in the class. Was it true? Half of us would be gone by the end of the month? Who would remain? Would I?

Before we left, Diane took measurements for our uniforms.

“They are specifically designed for international travel by the Joseph Magnin Company,” she said.

I didn’t know the company but learned that it was a high-end fashion store in San Francisco. The camel-colored uniform consisted of a skirt, a jacket, two shells (white cotton for summer and camel wool for winter), and a jockey-style hat.

“Upon graduation,” Diane continued, “you’ll also receive a coat, a purse, an in-flight apron, and a suitcase. You’ll need to buy plain pumps, high heels, boots and leather gloves—all in black, along with white cotton gloves. However, don’t buy them until after graduation.”

Although World paid us to attend school, we were not officially hired. Once we passed the final exams and completed the physical, we then became legitimate flight attendants.

During the next three days we attended the Patricia Stevens Modeling School and learned the finer points of grooming. “You are not to wear any jewelry except for a modest watch and ring,” the instructor said. “No necklaces or earrings.”

Sarah sat in a salon chair and I took a seat next to her. A beautician trimmed her hair and another cut mine to shoulder length. “If you grow it longer, you’ll need to wrap it in a bun or a French twist.”

Back at the modeling schoolroom, we learned to check in and out of hotels, to proceed through international customs, and to look professional at all times.

“World Airways requires their airline crews to hire porters,” the modeling instructor said. “They don’t want you lugging your suitcases through airports.” Suitcases with rollers had not been invented and our silver luggage was heavy.

With our backs as straight as yardsticks, she taught us to walk in unison like attractive robots.

After modeling school, we returned to World’s office building and inspected a mock-up galley with ovens and coffeemakers. We were handed the following card:

Дата добавления: 2015-08-27