Curiosity

The day greeted Patricia with plump droplets of rain spewing from the sky. She was concerned her car would not withstand the weather, and that the rain would melt off the Duct tape holding her bonnet in place, she didn’t have time for any car emergencies, today was training for her promotion working for ProAir private flights. So she swallowed her reluctance and decided to pay for the $64 Uber to the airport. She was early upon arrival to the meeting, so early in fact she was the first one there, not even the speaker had arrived yet. Patricia chose to sit as close to the front of the room as she could. She looked around the room. Behind the presentation screen on the wall was a large blue and red ProAir logo looking down upon her and the rest of the room almost biblically, as a matter of fact everything in that room that could be branded with ProAir iconography was, even the carpet had their logo patterned all over it.

Finally, other rookie attendants started tricking in some Patricia recognised from previously working on commercial flights, some of them choose to gather around the pastries and coffee before taking a seat. The speaker entered; a bouncy redheaded woman with impossibly white teeth dressed in an upgraded ProAir uniform strode to the front of the room. The grin on her face glued to her. She stood there with her hands clasped in front of her as her eyes panned across the room, grin still stiff and wide, as she waited for everybody to settle. “Hi there everyone my name is Marianne. Don’t you all look lovely, too bad I can’t say the same about the weather!”, she chuckled as the screen behind her lit up with an animated ProAir logo. Marking the beginning of training. Throughout the session all bases were covered, a lot of what they were being taught was a lot what Patricia already knew; but towards the end of the session there was a section titled “Our clientele”. Marianne began to explain the types of people they’d be working for, celebrities, influencers, politicians, artists, athletes, and socialites. Naturally, Patricia was eager to start. All that was left to do after the meeting was to receive her new uniform in the post and wait for ProAir to email her, her flight schedule.

Some days had passed and her new uniform had arrived. It was a slightly softer, slightly more flattering, version of her old uniform, the one that Marianne woman had been wearing at the meeting. A week passed and her phone finally pinged with her flight schedule. Only 5 flights this month, ‘change of pace’ she thought. When she was working on commercial flights she’s been non-stop, flying city to city, being at home for about a week out of the month. Despite feeling disappointed she couldn’t work more being the workaholic she was she was keen for her first day.

Her first day was not as exciting as she expected. A politician had to speak across country. Patricia sat in the staff bay chatting and eaves dropping on the passenger rehearsing his speech for the majority of the flight. She had hoped for something more glamorous. Her next couple of trips had been pretty similar in terms of excitement. Her 5th and final return flight of the month and she was finally going to get to work a longer shift. This time she would be tending to a 10-hour flight to Athens. She took position with her cremates in the cabin ready to greet the passengers; a group of men in casual attire entered, they were too underdressed and dorky to be influencers or celebrities, and too young to be politicians or business men. They made their way onboard and gave a nod of acknowledgement then made themselves comfortable. Patricia knew this was the staffs' cue to begin their work. She gathered her trolley and made her way down the aisle to offer them some refreshments, but all the men rejected her offer. They seemed to be very focused hunched over some clunky laptops, one of them scribbling some things into a little black book. Every now and then she’d peak behind the curtain separating the staff area. “Another boring flight” she whispered to Shaun, her colleague, as she peaked again. “What do you think they do?” Shaun replied matching her hushed tone, peering over her shoulder at them still typing and scribbling. “Tech probably” he answered himself. “Ah that makes total sense!” she quietly exclaimed.

A few hours had passed and the click clack of their keyboards had slowly turned to chatter and laughter as they began ordering a steady flow of alcohol. These were the type of men who liked to work hard and play harder, Patricia quickly came to realise. Greece came approaching from beneath them as the men continued to drink and chatter. Whilst from a distance one would just take them for any other group of men under the influence, with sudden bellows of laughter and amplified conversation, but what they were discussing was not technically comprehensible to Patricia, they were theorising and talking about science and numbers with wide eyes and slightly slurred speech.

Finally they landed and the men lumbered off, after gathering their things. Except one thing; the book that one of them had been scribbling notes in. Patricia had been taught in her training session what to do with anything left behind by a passenger, she knew what to do, but she was compelled not to follow protocol, instead she rationalised that she knew she would be on the return flight with these men again and in 3 days and wanted to hand the book back to them herself, once she had had a peak of course. She tucked it in her belongings and made her way to her hotel. That night she lay in bed flicking through the pages, not comprehending much. She tossed the book in the bedside drawer and forgot about it for the rest of her stay in Athens.

The flight took off and the men seemed tense, nowhere near as jovial with each other as they previously were. Patrica was waiting for an opportunity to return what she found. When a perfect one arose, the one whose book she assumed it was typing up notes whilst his company were fast asleep, she gently tapped him on the shoulder and waved the book out in front of her, “does this belong to you” his eyes widened and he sat up straight in his seat. “Yes, oh my god, you have it!?” he exclaimed, he reached out for it, flicking through as if he was checking to see if it was the real thing. “Thank you!” he grabbed his phone, “Let me send you a tip”. Assuming he meant a small sum she accepted and told him her details. She had no idea how much he had sent her as she kept her phone off during flights. She thanked him and excused herself. She heard the young man waking his friends and telling he’d them he’d found the book (given no credit to Patricia). She had no clue why it was so important to them but she was glad to feel the mood in the cabin change, and soon enough they were imbibing and chattering like before. At the end of the flight she was thanked once again, and they sauntered off. Only then was she able to check her phone to see how much of a tip she’d gotten …Twenty…thousand dollars. Had this been a mistake? She emailed the handle attached to the transaction, explaining that the must of been a mistake. An almost instant reply was received that just read “No mistake. Thanks again”

She had no qualms about spending the money on an Uber home that evening. She paced up and down her living room, speaking to her self about how she should spend it. “ A new car? New shoes?…New boobs?” she chuckled. She browsed for new cars, paid off some accumulating debts, and made a dinner reservation at a seafood place she’d been itching to try. That month would take her friends and family out to lunch and dinner every chance she could, she bought gifts for everyone, including plenty for herself, she was able finally to treat the people she loved to what they deserved. She had been going in to to work more positively than ever and her superiors noticed how much she seemed to enjoy her work. Which after only a few months of getting her promotion she received a raise. She thought to herself after all this good fortune she received was…Curiosity doesn’t always kill the cat.