The Stewardess Diaries

Chapter Two: Training

The six weeks of training is given at one of the main airports in Texas. Trainees must pass the progress examinations to complete the course successfully. An weekly allowance was given to cover mostly food expenses. A shared hotel room was provided to all trainees. I shared a room with a girl named Amanda, from San Francisco.

Amanda and I bonded quickly. We shared many interests. Every night we would watch "Friends" before going to be and set the "Friends" theme song as our wake up alarm. She was very clean and chatty. We hung out a few times, rode the bus to the training center together. We were besties.

Training was a little challenging. We had a lot of reading material for homework every day and had to take many exams that covered many subject areas such has emergency procedures, aircraft specifications, first aid, security, etc.

On the third week, Amanda started behaving a little irresponsibly. A few nights, after hanging out, she brought a guy to spend the night in our room. At first I thought he was gay, so I didn't pay much attention to it. However, the fact that I started hearing kissing sounds during the night made me suspect that something else was going on. I spoke to Amanda a bout the issue several times. She apologized and agreed she would never do it again. I told her I didn't care what she did, as long as it didn't interfere with my privacy. Girl, let me know if you're bringing someone over, I'll be out at the gym or hang out at pool. Have fun. Bye Felicia.

One Friday night I was feeling sick, feverish, and could barely sleep. Amanda went out with a group of trainees. I obviously stayed in our room. At 4 a.m. She brought someone over. They turned on the t.v and the lights, and brought McDonalds food. That obviously woke me up and I started to move restlessly on my bed. They later turned everything off, but a few minutes later the kissing sounds started to manifest. And other sounds joined the party: moans, the unmistakable sound of balls hitting her thighs. I saw the silhouette of a man removing her garments. I was in shock. What the fuck? This is not happening. This is outrageous. How could they? Are you fucking kidding me? After we agreed a couple of days ago that this would not happen!

I took my phone and room key and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind me. I texted one of my closest friends. I couldn't believe this. My friend, also a flight attendant, adviced me to report the incident. I didn't want to become the snitch. But this was very uncalled for. I went to the hotel front desk and requested a room. They denied my request and instructed me to contact Skytrek about this. I gave it some time. I went back to my floor and sat on an armchair facing the elevator. I waited for what it seemed like three hours. I went back to the room and there they were, sleeping and cuddling. It was a different guy. I texted my friend again. He told me to get out of the room, report it, and avoid her. And so I did. I sat again on the armchair. The guy later walked in front of me towards the elevator and was gone.

Eventually I was given a room of my own. Hell broke loose two days later. People were crying. My roommate and her fuck buddy were released from training. I was blocked from the Facebook group that was created for our class. Many people unfriended me from Facebook. Rumors started spreading around of how I recorded them or took photos of them to report them. No one talked to me. I was cast out. The morning Amanda was released from training, she came down to the breakfast room and called me a "piece of shit" in front of everyone. I was left alone on the round table, crying, humiliated.

The last three weeks of training were a living hell to me. Cast out. Many stares and nasty looks. A handful of people supported me. But I passed it. It was all worth it. I was not going to let people bring me down. I did not undergo to countless sacrifices to come here and deal with immature and dramatic people. I wanted this career badly. And I succeeded.

"Snitches get stitches" they say. I believe there's a difference between being a snitch and standing up for yourself. I did not report the incident the first time it happened. I tried to manage the situation. And I thought I did. But I am not a tolerant person. Every person deserves respect. My privacy and my dignity was challenged several times. I did what I had to do. My instructors supported me, and that's what I care about.