The Voice called me last night around 9:30 to give me a trip: a 0530 check-in and work one leg to San Francisco (SFO) -- layover for 13 hours -- and work the leg back to Washington tonight at 11:20 pm arriving home at 7:40 Saturday morning.

I'm in my hotel room now, where the clock on the nightstand says it's 11 in the morning, My Eastern-time-zone body clock tells me that it's early afternoon. I need to get to sleep so I can get back up tonight and work the redeye.

My internal clock is screwed for the next couple of days....

Reporting live from 36,000 feet today! I'm flying on American Airlines, which has Go-go Inflight Wifi.

You may be aware that AA Flight Attendants are in contentious contract negotiations, and that they have overwhelmingly voted to strike: with 90% of the Flight Attendants voting, 96.8% of them have voted to strike. The made big concessions a few years ago, with promises of getting those concessions returned--which has been an empty promise.

I strongly support my colleagues at AA...but, I have to tell you...I was a bit surprised to hear this announcement on today's flight. After explaining the beverage service and the snacks available for purchase, one of the three Flight Attendants said, "...we accept credit cards--we no longer accept cash, unless it is in the form of a tip and is divisible by three..."

Alrighty then....

For some Flight Attendants, attendance is a real issue. Yes, coming to work for a few of us can be difficult, so, the Company has set in place a point system with all sorts of rules and intricacies and levels of offenses. I am fortunate--my kids are grown, I don't have springtime allergies, and I don't get sick often.

At most jobs, if the plumber has to come to your house, you could take the morning off, and be back before lunch. Not Flight Attendants. If we need a couple hours off to deal with a situation, we (generally) have to take the whole day off.

And so it was earlier this month for me. I left my house for 30 minutes and came back to a minor disaster. The handle on a toilet on our third floor got stuck, and spilled over. I came home to water pouring out of the ceiling of the garage (first floor) ceiling lights and chandelier (second floor) and a soaked carpet on the third floor. As I walked in the door, the alarm system was screaming "Fire, fire, fire" and with all the water pouring out I thought the sprinkler system had gone off. (We don't have a sprinkler system!) And, the alarm system was going off because water had reached the sensors...

My SuperHero neighbor, Mark came over and helped get everything in order. He poked holes in the ceiling to allow the water to drain out, and more importantly, calmed a freaked out me down.

The insurance company sent out people to handle mold remediation. These are the folks who dry out your house. They cut holes in the ceilings to force warm air in...they have industrial sized blowers to dry your carpets, they have mats that are sealed in plastic that suck water out of your hardwood floors; they apply sporicide that smells like....sporicide. And, they have to come back to check on this process every single day--it took five days to dry out our house. With Norm being deployed in a faraway land, it was truly a Personal Emergency, necessitating me being home.

So, I called my Supervisor at work and requested the four Reserve days I was scheduled to work off. She gave me two. (Gee, thanks...) I called back on Day Two to request a couple more days off, and a different Supervisor gave them to me, no problem. (I was docked pay for the days I didn't work, by the way.) My original Supervisor (let's call her Mary) said, as we got off the phone that first day to make sure I document my personal emergency.

Look, Mary wouldn't know my face if she saw me. And, that's a good thing. I'm not a problem child: she has no attendance issues with me, I'm not late to work, and I do my job well. And, I understand that she has to do her job, and that a few bad apples abuse the system.

So, I sent Mary an e-mail that included copies of our claim with our insurance company--complete with claim number, and the insurance adjustor's name and phone number. I also sent her a link to my Facebook photo album which documented the work being done in our home (just the photos, I don't need a Supervisor on my FB page, thank you!). Attached to the e-mail, I sent two photos of the Washington Post newspaper: the first one shows the newspaper on one of the big dehumidifiers in my dining room; the second of a closer picture of the Post that clearly showed the date.

I thought I had over-proved my personal emergency.

Apparently not.

I received this e-mail back from her:

I felt as if I had been slapped in the face. And called a liar.

Norm says to play the game and give her what she wants. I think I've given enough. This may be a time I will call on my Union to help me out--it seems to be harassment. Not bad harassment, just the "screw with you" kind. And, it makes me angry because I have never done anything to warrant this kind of treatment.

Nine rooms were affected by water damage in our home. On top of dealing with furniture scrunched up together, carpeting pulled up, adjustors, estimators, plumbers, appointments, and our home being in a general disarray....I get to "substantiate the time authorized..."

Can you imagine if I had a flat tire on the way to work? How would one substantiate that?

So, what about you? Is it this way for you at your work? Have I missed something? I'd love to hear what you think about this and how it is for you.

I'll keep you posted.

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John in MRY posted this comment, and I thought it was interesting:

Oh, the joys of non-revving...

I am in El Paso (ELP). Had no intention of being here tonight.  I was trying to "jumpseat" home.

I went to the Delta counter--there were seats available on that flight. But, wait--it wasn't a DELTA flight--it was Delta Connection, operated by Atlantic Southeast Airlines. My company has a jumpseat agreement with Delta, but not with ASA. So, I couldn't get on that flight.

Opened up my trusty laptop, and looked at US Airways. Again, it was a flight operated by a regional partner that we didn't have an agreement with....

Walked over to the Southwest gate for their flight to Las Vegas (LAS). No problem getting on, the agent tells me...."You have your uniform, right?" No, I don't have my uniform. She tells me there is a "fourth agreement" now and we can't ride on Southwest unless we are in uniform. (This is news to me...and isn't in the information given to our Flight Attendants.)

Waited for the American Airlines flight to Chicago. The gate agent tells me "The flight is full." I asked her to put my name on the standby list anyway. It left without me. Looked at the flight to Dallas (DFW), and there were a ton of standbys on the list for an oversold flight.

Next, I called my SuperHeroHusband, Norm in Germany. He decided to use some of his Delta miles to put me on a flight out tomorrow morning. (God, I love that man!)

So, get this: I am flying positive space tomorrow. I'll be a real passenger, with rights and everything!! They have to get me home. I'm so thrilled to be a real person in an airlines' eyes.

The best thing--I realized I can wear whatever I want to fly tomorrow. I don't have to dress in business attire, or worry about whether or not I am wearing jeans. In my head, I hear Mel Gibson, in the movie Braveheart: "Freeeeedooooom!!"

A friend of ours died last week. A decorated United States Air Force Master Sergeant and someone I've known for almost 20 years, Bob was a Purple Heart recipient and a survivor of the Khobar Tower bombing in 1996. He was 41 years old.

An avid outdoorsman, Bob especially liked to hunt and fish. While stationed in Alaska, he participated in Iditarod activities, and was like a wide-eyed kid playing in all the beauty and splendor Alaska had to offer. He had a perfect deadpan delivery that would make me bust out laughing. And, he was a good husband to his wife.

Bob was buried in Tulia, Texas yesterday. The US Air Force had an Honor Guard there--complete with taps, a 21 gun salute, and flag-folding at the grave site. It was a moving tribute to a man who has spent almost half of his life in service to our country. Even the crustiest of cowboys--and there were plenty there-- had tears in their eyes.

Side note: There was a sign at the entrance to the cemetery. It said "Watch out for rattlesnakes." Only in Texas, right?

After the service, we drove to Las Cruces, New Mexico--a six hour drive. Later this morning, we'll drive over to Holloman Air Force Base, where Bob was stationed last. His unit wanted to remember their colleague, so they are holding a Memorial Service this afternoon for him.

We've all been so terribly sad this last week.

Godspeed, Bob!

Oh, man! I worked a flight home from Chicago recently. Simple hour and a half flight on a 767, right? I worked the Business Aisle, along with another Flight Attendant, Brooke. My friend, Andreya worked the Business Galley. A cold plate for a snack and cocktails--easy-peasy!

Andreya was in my training class at the Charm Farm, and is a stunningly beautiful young woman. She is also a beautiful person--with a sweet disposition and she just generates good karma when you're around her. And, her subtle comments crack me up. I just love her!

Brooke, on the other hand, was the total opposite. Older, bossy, wrinkled face with a sourpuss expression...she just oozed meanness. She was grouchy when she joined us for the briefing and continued to be grouchy the whole flight. She wasn't a pleasant woman to be around.

And, we hadn't even started boarding, yet!

So, I'm flitting around the airplane after doing my pre-flight safety checks. Up in First Class, I am yakking with Sandy, who is the Purser--we've been flying our whole trip together. I head back to Business, and see Andreya just kind of standing in the galley. Brooke is grumbling about not having enough space in the Business galley while unwrapping the cold plates and setting up trays for the service. Brooke had taken over the galley responsibilities of Andreya.

Andreya, too nice, was just looking dumbfounded. Brooke started barking orders at the two of us. I joined Andreya in the dumbfounded look.

"Okay, there will be no pre-departure beverage service. This galley is too small for that."

Huh?

"We're not going to heat the rolls, it's too much work for such a short flight."

Really, Brooke? Stick a bag in the warming oven for 10 minutes--too much work?

Sandy happened by. She heard Brooke barking galley orders at Andreya and me. She pulled Brooke aside and said something--I don't know what. But, as she walked by me, Sandy said, "Just do the service the way we normally do."

Andreya pulled the cart towards her, and began setting the trays up. I pulled out a carton of orange juice and a bottle of water and a sleeve of plastic cups.

Brooke looked at me incredulously and asked, "Are you really going to do a pre-departure beverage service?"

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I?" I responded.

Defeated, Brooke said, "Which aisle do you want?"

"Doesn't matter to me," I said. She went right and I went left.

During the flight, she decided that a man drinking wine was having too many when he asked for a third glass. (The wine glasses we use in Business Class are like thimbles! Seriously! If they hold 3 ounces to the very top, I'd be surprised!) She was ready to cut him off. Obviously not a drinker, I just explained to her that it really wasn't that much he was drinking...it was just the glass was small and she had refilled it a couple of times. She thought people would be drunk on two of those glasses. And, the man was really large, too. With about four ounces of wine consumed, there was no way was he drunk--or even close to it.

During our service, Brooke was scattered. She'd be over on my aisle, with her pursed lips and her mean aura. I'd tell her, "Hey, I've got it now, thanks." She'd go back over to her aisle, but it was like she needed to handle every one of our passengers. (Trust me when I tell you I know how to make a drink, place a dinner tray on a table, get a refill, and remove the dinner tray. And, I do it well, by the way...)

We got it done, and I think Brooke only really aggravated three of the Business Class passengers. I'm sure they went over to gripe about her on FlyerTalk.

It just made me sad for her. Here we have a relatively fun job, and she just looked miserable. I don't know if that is how she is everyday, or just that day. If she's like that every day...I would hate to fly with her again, for sure.

My View One Year Ago: Weekend in Munich

My View Two Years Ago: Welcome Home and my Redneck Daughters