Read Around the World in a Bad Mood! for Free Online Page B

roccas and brownies, I can try to see if someone will switch seats with you.
    P ASSENGER: You are going to do something about it right now, young lady. Do you know who I am? DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? Well, do you?
    F LIGHT ATTENDANT (over public address system): Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please? We have a passenger on board who does not seem to know who she is. If anyone can identify her, please ring your flight attendant call button.
    F LIGHT ATTENDANT (to next passenger): Would you like the almond rocca or the brownie?
    P ASSENGER: I’ll have the almond brownie!
    F LIGHT ATTENDANT: I’ll be right back.

Seeking SWF F/A to Share Manhattan Apt
$400 Per Month or Less
    A FTER TRAINING, being assigned to the New York base seemed like a dream come true. I was convinced that I’d be able to have my cake and eat it too—that is, I would have this airline job with benefits and also be able to pursue my acting career in the Big Apple. Little did I know what lay ahead. First of all, I had nowhere to live, let alone any kind of theatrical connections. Youth gave me a kind of indefatigable confidence that I could do anything and that something would work out. Of course it did, but it wasn’t exactly what I had planned.
    I pictured myself living in a swanky Manhattan apartment. It might be small to start out, but eventually (like within a month or two) I’d have some great digs. Just before graduation WAFTI sent us out on a one-day base-familiarization trip. The minute we arrived in New York I began scouring the board with advertisements for available apartments, sublets, and that sort of thing. My aim was to find another female flight attendant who had her own apartment in Manhattan and was willing to share it for less than $400 a month. What can you say about a young chick from the Midwest, except that ignorance is bliss? Needless to say, there was no such situation available. In fact, much to my chagrin, there was not even one notice on the board regarding housing. The only notices appearing before me were a “never worn wedding dress for sale . . . cheap” and a 1979 SAAB in excellent condition that was also up for grabs. Would it be possible to live in a SAAB?
    It was then that I met Olive Douglas, a seasoned, sassy New York flight attendant. She listened to my tale of woe and said, with the cadence of a native New Yorker, “donworryaboutit.” It turned out that Olive knew of some flight attendants who were looking for a new housemate. “Whaddya know?” They worked for a charter company, and had a big house in Queens near the airport. These men were great—all five of them—and I’d have my own room, all for $300 a month. And there was no lease. I had to find something and I figured if it didn’t work out, I could get out of it easily enough and the price was certainly right. (I was about to discover the meaning of the phrase “you get what you pay for.”)
    â€œSo whaddya say?”
    â€œUmmm, is there any way I could see the place or at least talk to the people who live there before I make a decision?”
    â€œLook, I’m givin’ youse a great opportunity here. I make all the arrangements and anyway the boys are all out of town this week. The place is great, ya gotta just trust me. Besides, what other options do ya have?” As she asked me this, she eyeballed the “never worn” wedding dress sign.
    I had to think fast. I didn’t really like the idea of living with complete and utter strangers—five men, no less! Queens was not exactly Manhattan, but these people did not work for WAFTI. Maybe that was a good thing. Ahh, what to do? I looked around at the desperate, frightened faces of my classmates, who were also trying to find places to live. Olive was working a buyers’ market. If I said no someone else would jump on this and then where would I be? Living in the SAAB.
    â€œOkay Olive, I’ll take it.