Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Professional Ethics... An Onboard Problem

A workplace conundrum: as an employee of a super-large company very protective of its image, we cabin crew-ers have to be fairly conservative in the things we say to passengers. Sure, it's fun to joke about what we imagine saying to some ("would you expect guests in your home to leave it looking like that" ... "chicken is not an effing vegetable" ... "do YOURself a favour and get you some manners" etc etc), but when it comes down to it, we grit our teeth and tacitly comply, meek little individuals that we are. Cough. Today, however, I was faced with a REAL professional vs ethical dilemma: if a male passenger walks out of the loo with his fly undone, is it professional or rude to tell him / not tell him? A fellow crew likened it to having food stuck in your teeth - now that I would have mentioned with 100% confidence I was doing the right thing. But the creepy feeling that this guy would disembark thinking I'd been checking out his package was too much for me. I held my tongue and said nothing, regretfully feeling as though I had done this particular stranger a huge disservice. Professional or rude? I still can't decide.
Other than this less-than-satisfactory moment on the return flight, Paris was wonderful. As always. It's a city that never fails to disappoint. The weather was perfect, mid-30's with a beautiful sunny sky and puffy little Care Bear clouds. I rounded up a few of the other girls from the crew and we bared our shoulders without a care in the world and headed in to check out Montmartre. I've wanted to go to the Sacre Coeur (yes I just had to Google the spelling of that) every time I've been in Paris but hadn't got there before this, so I was really excited to see it on such a perfect day. It's right on top of a hill, with the most amazing view out over all of Paris. And, being an Australian and slightly ignorant (don't get offended all you peeps at home cos its true, we are) I didn't know enough Francais to know that 'sacre coeur' (thank you Google) means 'sacred heart': also the name of my old high school back home. Aww!!  Oh and yes it's a church. But a very very cool church, if you believe in such a thing.

 

 



 
There is a tram you can take up the hill, which I might do when I am 100 years old. Feeling brave and exercise-ready, however, we trundled up the stairs instead. Wow there's a lot of them. Past the guys selling dodgy handbags, and using the extent of my Francais to politely decline cheap Eiffel Tower statues (not because I don't want one, but because they are even cheaper at the Tower itself and I'm a stinge). For future Parisian travellers, 'no' in French = 'ne', pronounced sort of like 'no'. I know. I am so cultured. Anyway about two thirds of the way up is a fountain, where we sat in the only available seat to eat our delicious baguettes - tomato and brie for me, delicious! - and discovered that the reason it was the only seat available was cause it stank like pee and there was a group of serious wierdos verbally harassing us while we tried to enjoy our lunch. At least I assume they were harassing us but I couldn't understand them. But yes, the theories are right, tone and body language do count for a large percentage of comprehension. So we moved on quickly. Suffice to say that the view, the church itself, and the surrounding area were enough to wipe the disturbing memory of that 30 seconds of smelly discomfort. Montmartre is fabulous. Lots of amazing places to eat amazing food, of course a high priority, and also lots of artistes selling sketches, paintings, drawing portraits and stuff. The streets are narrow and cobblestoned, and it just made me feel like I was in an old movie or something. I wanted to buy a bunch of paintings for my lounge room wall but with the attempt at saving I've committed myself to for the next few months, had to settle for a 20 cent postcard for my collection instead. One day, my lounge room will have art in it. Hopefully while I still live there.

Further exciting news to come with me out of Paris; I spoke to three very important people while there who have all given me something to look forward to. The Boyfriend is coming to visit me, hopefully within the next month, but this will depend on his ability to make a decision so I'll believe it when I see the boarding pass. The Father is planning a UK frolick later in the year, via Dubai of course, and The Sister is coming over in December to keep me company on 10 days leave, split between Dubai and more Parisian adventures. Eurodisney here we come!! Plus in one month some of my very best girlfriends in the world will be landing in London, and my life's mission is to get there and spend some time catching up on 7 months worth of gossip, laughs and maybe one or two 'quiet ones' as they call them back home.
Like I said, my life is amazing.  Bring on tomorrow!!

Yes I do.



4 comments:

  1. I had the same dilemma last month, except the guy was elderly and more than a little doddery. I'd want someone to tell my granddad so I got one of the boys to do it :P

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  2. Hi! I found your blog accidentally and I'm really glad that I did! I'm already a big fan of your ex-roommate's blog and I think that I'm gonna be a fan of yours too!

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  3. General consensus seems to be I was in the wrong and should've told him... Least I know for next time, I guess?!!

    Thanks Nicole, glad you like it and hope you keep reading. You have the same name as my sister so I immediately like you but are suspicious that you may try and pinch my clothes & shoes...xx

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  4. Well I don't think you were wrong, it sounds like the guy was in full possession of his faculties... plus, we each have different tolerances of what we can and can't do... for example, I'm not great at dealing with drunks on board, I just tend to make them more annoyed but I bet you're good at sweet talking them :P

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