My wife, Gigi Chapman, worked as a flight attendant. It all started when I boarded a flight she was working on. I was minding my own business when I heard unmistakable noises coming from the lavatory. Before I could even process what was happening, Gigi stepped out, followed by some foreign guy. That was when I stumbled upon the airline’s dirty little secret. Gigi was a stunner as a flight attendant. She was nearly five-foot-seven, with a figure that was just about perfect. I mean, she could turn heads in an instant. We’d known each other for five years, married for three, but we’d barely spent any real time together. Gigi loved the freedom of flying, so after we tied the knot, I gave her all the space she wanted. Our only real couple time was on weekends when we were both off. That day, the company sprung it on me that I had to go overseas to check out a project. Then, by coincidence, I ended up on Gigi’s flight. To cut costs, they only got me an economy seat, but I managed to upgrade on my own. After that, I slapped on a hat and a mask right after security, all geared up to give Gigi a surprise. Once I boarded the plane, I spotted Gigi right away. Even among all those other flight attendants, she stood out like a sore thumb, looking as gorgeous as ever. With her leading the way, I settled into my seat, but oddly enough, first class was practically empty, just me and three other guys, all foreigners, each with an iced Americano in front of them. “Sir, what can I get you to drink?” “An iced Americano, please.” I tried to keep my voice down on purpose. But for some reason, I could practically see Gigi’s mood lift right before my eyes. “I’ll be right with you.” There were three flight attendants in first class. Besides Gigi, there were two other stunning women. I’d just slipped into my slippers when one of the girls, Monica Geller, Gigi’s colleague, took a tumble and landed right in my arms. I caught her instinctively, then helped her up. “You okay there?” “Thanks, sir. I was so clumsy. Need anything else?” “Nah, I’m good. Thanks.” My attention snapped back to Gigi, who was swaying toward me with my drink, but there was a flash of anger in her eyes. I thought, “Oh, crap. Did she recognize me?” Then, I realized she wasn’t making a beeline for me. Instead, she told Monica, “Monica, watch your step next time. You mess up again and make a passenger unhappy, I’ll bust you down to economy.” “I’m sorry, Ms. Chapman. It won’t happen again.” Since when did Gigi have that kind of authority? I was gobsmacked, having no idea she was the chief flight attendant. “You’d better hope this gentleman forgives you.” As Gigi spoke, she swung her gaze my way and handed the iced Americano to Monica. Monica crouched down a bit, her cheeks turning beet red, her eyes darting around, and handed me the drink with both hands. “Mr. Lewis, would you be kind enough to forgive me?” “Sure, don’t sweat it.” I took a swig of the iced Americano. Then, I shut my eyes, pretending to rest before I blew my cover. Monica let out a sigh of relief and tagged along with Gigi as they left. It wasn’t until the plane took off that I cottoned on to what that cup of iced Americano was all about.
“This flight’s gonna be a ten-hour haul, and we’ll touchdown at eight tonight.” The moment Gigi said that, two of the foreigners hopped to their feet. Another flight attendant swooped in and said with practiced ease, “Gentlemen, the lavatory is right this way.” Half an hour later, the third guy, Dominic Monaghan, also got up. This time, it was Gigi who greeted him. “Right this way, Mr. Monaghan.” I had a sneaking suspicion something was off, thinking, “Everyone’s gotta pee at the same time? But there are only two lavatories up front. What is this, a magic airplane?” Another ten minutes or so passed, and not a single one of them came back. I was even more flummoxed. Were they all having tummy troubles the second they boarded the plane? Just then, Monica scurried over and crouched down next to me. “Mr. Lewis, allow me to show you to the lavatory.” “What? I’m not ready to go yet.” I was caught off guard and couldn’t help asking, “How many lavatories are there anyway?” Monica blushed and said, “Six in total. Four in first class and two at the back.” Was that for real? I was bowled over and thought, “Maybe it’s because I hardly ever take these international flights.” Half an hour later, the two foreigners finally sauntered back, looking as content as could be. They were just plain weird, and I couldn’t help but give them a side-eye. I was just about to head to the lavatory myself when Monica swooped in like she had radar. “Mr. Lewis, the lavatory’s this way.” The first-class treatment was something else. I cracked a smile and followed Monica to the lavatory. Just as my hand touched the doorknob, a breathy whimper slithered into my ears. My hand froze in mid-air. I thought, “Who the heck are they? What are they doing something like that on a plane for?” I frowned, turned on the faucet, and was about to wash my hands. The next second, the door swung open, and Dominic came out, still hitching up his pants. “Your service was top-notch. I’ll be asking for you next time.” “Thank you, Mr. Monaghan.” Hearing the woman’s voice, I whipped around in disbelief. Gigi trailed out after Dominic. She had sweat on her face, her makeup was smeared, and her clothes were all wrinkled. Her black stockings were gone, and she didn’t seem to notice or care. Instead, she snapped at Monica behind me, “What are you just standing there for? You gonna let the passenger wait like this?” Monica shivered and yanked me into the lavatory. “Mr. Lewis, I’m not very good at this. Maybe you could take the lead?” I was so distracted I didn’t even hear Monica. “Mr. Lewis, let me help you take off your pants…” She started undoing my belt, and that was when I snapped back to reality and pushed her away. “Is this what you call service?” Monica’s face drained of color, and she dropped to her knees. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lewis. I…” Before she could finish speaking, I interrupted her, “I’m not blaming you. Just tell me, what the heck is your service all about?” Monica peeked up at me nervously. “Mr. Lewis, you ordered an iced Americano, right?” “What’s that got to do with it?” “If it’s an iced Americano, a flight attendant is required to provide you with service unconditionally throughout the whole flight.” I was rocked to my core, and the last shred of hope I had was gone. My breathing sped up. Then, I spun around and was about to make a break for it. Monica clung to me like a limpet and begged, “Mr. Lewis, please. If you go out like this, Ms. Chapman will think I didn’t do my job right and I’ll get demoted. Please, help me. Let me serve you just once!” I turned around and glared at her coldly. “Do you even realize this is illegal?” Before Monica could say a word, there was a knock on the door. Then, Gigi’s voice came from outside. “Sir, Monica’s still learning. I need to give her some pointers. Could you open the door?” “Nah, we’re good here.” It took a full minute before Gigi’s retreating footsteps finally faded. Then, Monica’s eyes welled up with gratitude. “Mr. Lewis, please, just let me do my job. If I don’t, I’ll get written up, and I…” “If you don’t wanna get a complaint filed against you, just do as I say, okay?”
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