“I Mean…What?!?” – Abe Gurko

Nothing, besides that friggen mosque, has gotten more attention by the (clearly bored) media than the valiant stewardess, Steven Slater. Look, I am sure in his delusional mind, he had good reason to throw a hissy fit and jump out of the plane through the emergency slide. We all hit our limit at work where we just want to scream. But let’s just sit back and consider what else is at play here. After reading a few articles and reports on what really went down, let’s not eliminate the possibility that Mr. Slater could be a bit of a twit and potentially rolled his eyes at the sight of a poorly dressed passenger (he is gay after all) and might have thrown the woman in question a touch of attitude. Being somewhat of a frequent flier for the past forty years, the whole cabin staffing evolution has been unusual to say the least. In my youth, stewardesses were for the most part extremely attractive, fit and looked lovely in their tailored suits and coordinating chapeaus. Most often they were cheery and helpful. They engaged in dialogue with passengers and bent over backwards to make your travel experience pleasant. (In the sixties, much of that bending over backwards paid off as many married their passengers after messy divorces.)

Then came Gay Liberation and a throng of queens, rather….stewards, who were equally fit, looked dapper in their extra snug-on-the-buns, polyester pants, and thrilled to be getting free air travel perks. They were soon joined by not-so-fit women…which shifted into the inclusion of women of a certain age with not-so-attractively styled of hair and clothes because not everyone can sausage themselves into a fitted polyester suit. Now, flight attendants…as they prefer to be called, look like a group of extras out of Central Casting. There are women and men of all ages, weights and heights, few are attractive, most are grumpy and keep to themselves, hiding behind the curtain with no intention of being helpful. Instead, “flight attendants” act like they are doing you a favor when you need a glass of water or a pillow. And forget that second cup of coffee. Where do you think you are…a diner?

My point is, that no matter how much Steven Slater’s “I’m not gonna take this anymore” moment resonated with the masses, there are three sides to every story and I shall reserve judgment until I hear them all. Gawker mentions that he might actually get a b ook deal and I pity the publisher who believes that Slater is worthy, putting him in the league of Elizabeth Gilbert.