Barbie Boot Camp

**Disclaimer: this post is ridiculously long and incredibly detailed. Begin reading at your own risk of time mismanagement.**

This is my diary of Inflight Training in Dallas, Texas; 3 weeks and two days total. For the abbreviated version, go here.

Week 1:

1 April, Sunday - I woke before my 7 a.m. alarm, understandably excited. I chose to wear a jersey-knit skirt and bright orange t-shirt that states 'I sing in my car.' Greg questioned my wardrobe sense, but I dismissed him entirely, citing the fact I was wearing a skirt. Mom, are you listening? We left Greg's place around 9.30, with me memorizing the last of my required information on the trip to St. Louis. We arrived at the airport in plenty of time, but my somewhat overstuffed refrigerator-sized suitcase was 1.5 pounds over the limit, so I had to exit the line and unzip both my rolling bags in order to shift the weight. 10 minutes later, I got back in line and checked my 86.5 pounds of stuff to Dallas. Greg and I split a $7 sandwich at Starbucks, which was the only food on the non-ticket holder side of security. The lettuce was a bit limp, in my opinion.

I said goodbye to Greg and waited in the security line, watching with amusement a woman in skin-tight jeans and 3-inch heel, knee-high boots try to remove them to go through the checkpoint. The flight was nearly full, but I scored a third-row window seat. The takeoff and initial ascent were bumpier than is comfortable, but we landed safely less than two hours later. The lady beside me had the worst smoker's breath I've ever encountered over a prolonged period.

The luggage was off-loaded, but onto which conveyor, they told us not. I walked back and forth between three for about 15 minutes before seeing my two bags. Caty and Ryan were a bit late picking me up, but no problem at all - I enjoyed the beautiful Texas sun while trying to relay information to my parents via phone with Boeing 737s landing on the runway directly beside me.

We drove past innumerable exotic dance clubs with very distinctive names, as well as a Diaper World. I wasn't quick enough with the camera, unfortunately. Upon entering the hotel lobby, I was at first dismayed to think I had gotten mixed up in an adult cheer leading convention; not so, it was merely my future co-workers who had all decided not to wear jersey skirts, orange t-shirts, or go without makeup on a travel day. Good thing I didn't care. I checked in, dropped my luggage in the room, was delighted to find a mini-fridge and microwave (since we had been lead to believe there would be neither) and went to the local supermarket for cheap eats!

5 Lean Cuisines, 1 quart of half-and-half, and some apples and bananas later, we three stopped by a Mediterranean bistro for a last meal of sorts. I heard all about Caty's job at a local church, and Ryan's masters program, and had lots of vegetables. And lamb kabobs. Back at the hotel at around 8.35, I was unsettled to find my roommate's luggage, complete with a fairly large shoe on the ground. After mulling it over, I thought to look at the airline tags. They read 'Josh.' I was sure there was a mistake; after checking with the front desk, I was assured there was no mistake. As Josh walked into the room, proclaiming, "You're not a guy," I was confirmed in my knowledge that this would be a trip just like all the rest.

Josh and I parted ways 30 minutes later after I was assigned a room on the floor below. Cassie, who is a girl, is now my roomie. See photo. The bad thing about Josh's room was that the 'view' was of the building's air conditioning unit. The bad thing about my new room was that it had no fridge or microwave, and I now had 5 frozen dinners and dairy products. Also, the window overlooks the hotel lobby, and affords no natural light whatsoever. I asked the front desk about the fridge and microwave, was told both were on their way, was glad when a microwave was delivered, but disappointed to glean from the incredibly broken English of the delivery lady that there were no more fridges. Good thing I had made friends with Emily before leaving Josh; I parked my foodstuffs in her fridge overnight. I was therefore up until 11, bloodshot eyes and all. I did not iron my clothes or unpack.

Monday - Wake up? 6 a.m. Cara is not impressed. Breakfast: 7 a.m. After sitting down to eggs and bacon, I noticed a mass exodus from the restaurant as word spread that the shuttles had arrived. I shoved the protein in my mouth while simultaneously fixing some terrible coffee to ward off the mid-morning headache. I spilt some on my leg, but was thankful for my black washable pants. It dried quickly.

Arriving at headquarters was astounding. The inflight instructors met us at the door, escorted us upstairs and down a long hallway filled with people from all the departments cheering us on as we walked by. This is why I want to work for this company - because it is a family, all 31,000+ people. I got to meet Kris, the lady who coached me through my interview; she came from her office to see me specifically, and then told me that my advocate in the Chicago office had called her this morning to remind her that I'd be here. Heartwarming.

We had to introduce ourselves to the group, all 136 of us, in three bullet points or less. That was easy. We had a good, free lunch in the cafeteria. There is also a Starbucks on the premises, which I avoided, seeing as I won't get a paycheck until successful completion of the course. We took the test on our material after lunch, which they had said in our info packet would be tomorrow. I made a 100, but a few failed. Sad. My roommate also scored a 100; we will establish the SWA Dean's List, I suppose.

Tonight, I go to bed early due to light homework. I have ironed all my clothes, stocked the mini-mini-fridge that was delivered this afternoon, though it is disappointingly smaller than the one in Josh's room, and showered, pursuant to the appearance standards in the handbook we received today.

I passed the first exam, and the 10 minutes worth of verbatim recitation test won't be for another two weeks, and I'm feeling OK in Texas. Welcome aboard my life! Congrats if you made it this far.

Tuesday, they filled us in on all of the benefits for working at SW...profit sharing, great medical, etc. Then they started in on the academics and made us work for it. But not until Wednesday afternoon, because Wednesday morning, we got fitted for uniforms (my arms were too long to fit in the long-sleeved button-up tops and blazers; I'm stuck in a v-neck sweater and men's pants) and got a makeover. I resisted the temptation to buy the $55 foundation. That afternoon, we learned all about the Boeing 737 (four hours of lecture). Thursday, we were tested on the Boeing 737 at 7 a.m. I made a 100. Thursday afternoon, we learned about flight attendant duties (4 hours of lecture). Friday morning, we were tested on flight attendant duties. I made a 100. Friday, we had two sessions of lecture on customer contact ( 6.5 hours). I learned that 'service animals' include not only dogs, but pigs, cats, birds and monkeys. SW does not accept rodents, insects, or reptiles (with the exception of turtles, of course). Said animal must be trained, not in training. We also had an Easter egg hunt. Saturday morning at 8.30, we boarded a bus to visit a Boeing 737-300 up close and personal for 2 hours. In the snow. No kidding; it was 34 degrees and flurrying - see photo.

Saturday afternoon, my friends Caty and Ryan (friend from GPS and husband newly relocated to Ft. Worth) picked me up at the hotel. We ran many errands, saw the fancy-schmancy part of Dallas, saw a herd of cattle driven down Main Street at the Ft. Worth Stockyards, and had a generally good time. Sunday morning, we attended services at Ft. Worth Presbyterian, then ate a wonderful homemade meal. I returned to the hotel and was in bed by 9.


Week 2:

Monday, we were tested on customer contact. I made a 100. Then, we heard encouragement from Colleen Barrett, the President of SW, and later, from Herb Kelleher, one of the two founders and current Chairman of the Board. Not bad for a 30,000+ person company.

Incidentals: I'm popping vitamins like a veritable homeopathic; I'll tell you if the combo of Centrum, B-12, Airborne and ginko is a winner. If nothing else, I'm gaining substantial muscle mass. They feed us every day at headquarters; it's like college - they have 101 ways to fix chicken, no kidding. I'm definitely gaining something, let me tell you. People watching is my favorite. There are representatives of all walks of life in our group - a retired cop, a number of grandmothers, a working stunt-woman (she has been on 24, among other shows and movies), a man who looks like he could be a pro footballer, and I could go on. Two guys in particular always catch my attention due to the fact that they dress alike every day. The first day: pink shirts and green ties. Second day: white shirts and pastel ties. Third day: yellow shirts. Today: grey shirts and pants. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I've also met a conspiracy theorist who believes 9-11 to have been some sort of government cover-up, solemnly citing 'the Internet' and Rosie O'Donnell as his sources. We've lost about 20-25 people for academic reasons, inability to comfortably fit into standard-size uniforms, failing two tests, coming back late from breaks, or being 'height/weight disproportionate.' One curly-headed classmate was told not to wear her hair straight anymore until having it trimmed. This is the real thing, people.

Tuesday began our week-long foray into the emergency procedures and equipment that we all hope to never use. Tuesday afternoon, we all jumped out of 'Poolie' using an escape slide. Poolie is the 737 trainer we use; it is about one-third the length of a real fuselage and came to the inflight building to retire. All parts of it still function exactly like a real plane because it was, in fact, a real plane. Attached are photos to help you understand. That's me in the green vest. Wednesday, we got to use both water and halon fire extinguishers, put on smoke hoods that closely resemble Martians out of 1950's era movies, and play with those life vests that you always hear about being under your seat cushion, which may also be used as a flotation device.


Thursday and Friday were the doozies. We began Thursday (my smaller group of 30 or so) by boarding Poolie at 8 am. We then proceeded to evacuate Poolie for nearly 5 hours in what was our 'Unplanned Emergency' evacuation proficiency test. That meant that every person in our group had as many as 4 turns in each one of three positions: two at the front or one at the rear of the cabin. Then, everyone shouted this script very loudly, not always in unison:
HEADS DOWN, STAY DOWN
RELEASE SEAT BELTS
COME THIS WAY
THIS WAY OUT
LEAVE EVERYTHING
CROSS YOUR ARMS; JUMP
or
STEP OUT
and possibly
GET OUT OF MY WAY
COVER YOUR NOSE AND MOUTH
STAY BELOW THE SMOKE

while also trying to correctly open one or two doors and a 50-pound over-wing window. One lady didn't turn her head as she opened the window and bloodied her nose. Luckily, I did not. I heard these phrases no less than 3 million times that morning; it was quite intense. Some people did not pass and must retake the proficiency on Monday. I went to sleep Thursday night telling myself to keep my head down and cross my arms while jumping.

Friday was no better, as we moved to the Planned Emergency proficiency, which included briefing fellow students as if they were regular Joes and Janes and needed to help in an emergency landing. We did this for 3.5 hours in 5 groups of 3, then were called back into the room as a group to be critiqued. The hallway outside the room was like a funeral parlor, since nearly half of the entire class did not pass this proficiency.

They also sent a nice lady to tell us about the company's zero tolerance drug and alcohol policy. I learned a number of things during her talk, the most interesting being that flight attendants must not have alcohol of any form on their person or in their luggage while on duty, including Listerine or pocket breath spritzers containing alcohol in even the most minute of amounts.

Also, during a rapid loss of cabin pressure (defined as depressurization in between 3-10 seconds, since 10 seconds or more is 'slow'), useful consciousness could only last 6 seconds. That's why you're always supposed to put on YOUR mask before you put on Junior's. I never knew that.

Friday night, as I tried in vain to wind down from two insanely stressful days by talking on the phone to long-lost loved ones, I stood in a hallway downstairs by a window since my room remains constant in its artificial light levels. I was soon swept up by a marauding horde making for a large, mirror-lined ballroom, saying something about tornadoes. Sure enough, Caty called at that very moment to say that one was headed directly toward us. As I surveyed the chandeliers in the room, I called my dad to verify tornado etiquette. Liz, a fellow student, was doing the same thing, and our dads agreed: bathroom. So Liz, her half-full (or empty, depending on your world view) wine glass and I all ended up underneath the bathroom counter right next to the ballroom. We got to know each other fairly well during that half hour, during which the lights flickered numerous times but we were not killed by a tornado.

Saturday was a fun day spent with Caty and Ryan again, going to various shops and buying things I didn't necessarily need while serving as Caty's personal shopper. I must not fail to mention that on the interstate between Ft. Worth and Dallas is the TBN headquarters. Much to my dismay I did not see the woman with the pink hair. They have a strangely small model of the White House though... Sunday morning, I had the distinct privilege of donating 45 mL of a certain bodily fluid to confirm that I am not engaged in any illegal drug use. I spent a large portion of the afternoon by the pool reading up on the emergency chapter on which we will all be tested tomorrow; I can report that my first idiotic sunburn of the season is officially present and accounted for on my top left foot, right hand and lower arm and neck. It is 6 pm. and I am in my jammies, eating the dinner of champions: a serving of Goldfish and a Naked Juice Smoothie. Mom, don't worry; I had more than enough calories yesterday to tide me over for the next three days. Welcome to my world!!

Week 3:

Monday was rough. We boarded the buses at 6.30 a.m. First we demonstrated our ability to recite 10 minutes worth of announcements to passengers who will most likely not be paying attention, including how to turn on reading lights. Next we took our longest and most involved test over the emergency information we studied all last week. With those out of the way, we went on to learning about first aid for the rest of the day, with an interruption by Gary Kelly, the CEO. He was very amiable and willing to answer our questions in detail. We didn't leave until after 6, when we all looked very similar to zombies, although some more than others. Tuesday we focused on CPR for adults and children, learning to use the automatic defibrilator that is onboard each plane. There is also a headset that patches in to a Phoenix hospital emergency room for actual medical expertise if necessary. This is Jenny, April, and me with the strange robo-babies that we were expected to save; I was very put off by their mouths and body armor. I didn't feel very motivated to save the life of an inhuman form that looked as if it might try to take my place in 20 years, but I did anyway.

Wednesday was spent learning about security and was very sobering. We learned that post-9/11, the federally mandated priority of a flight attendant is to maintain the security of the flight deck at all times no matter what. Some ladies in our class who had worked for other airlines had a multitude of recommendations on items found onboard which would serve as excellent weapons - think coffee pot upside the head, oxygen bottle across the face, fire extinguisher to the gut and in the eyes. It does contain a freezing agent, after all. Thursday we FINALLY had an afternoon devoted to soda and peanuts! We talked about it, then served our classmates in a cabin mockup. I drank two cokes, one orange juice, and a water and was jacked up for the rest of the evening. On Friday we heard from an FAA employee who works specifically with SW. We learned that if a flight attendant does not have an up-to-date, correctly configured manual with him/her onboard, he/she can be fined $1100 on the spot, which is undesirable on many levels. That afternoon was a parade of representatives from various departments who imparted to us invaluable information which I will not recount as you do not care.

Friday night, we went to the Red River dance hall to two-step. Laurel, the most senior member of our class, asked me to dance. She is a very good lead, especially at waltzing. Later, she demonstrated her ability to ride mechanical bulls. I was beyond impressed. Saturday was boring since I was forced to study for our cumulative final on Monday. Sunday was OE (operating experience) time for me and half the class. 4 a.m.: wake up afraid that my alarm will not go off. 5 a.m.: wake up to alarm. 7 a.m.: catch bus. 8 a.m.: check into crew lounge at airport. 9 a.m.: board flight to Houston. 10.25 a.m.: work flight to Corpus Cristi, make a fool of myself trying to demonstrate safety features of aircraft, repeatedly point to huge button on my shoulder that reads 'Trainee, working for my wings.' 11.05 a.m.: work return flight to Houston, repeat foolish demonstration. 1 p.m.: work different flight to Nashville, puke on landing. 3 p.m.: work flight to Birmingham, puke on landing. 4 p.m.: work flight back to Dallas, puke after taking drink orders in forward cabin, luckily not in view of customers. Make a fool of myself trying to recite announcements with everyone's rapt attention; tell entire flight, "I'm new." 8 p.m.: catch shuttle back to hotel. 9 p.m.: attempt to eat dinner in a room that is pitching/rolling; give up. 9.45 p.m.: bed.

Week 4:

Monday was a challenge, but I passed my cumulative final while feeling as if I would rather be dead. We spent the rest of the day learning how to do very important things related to being employees. We also discussed our OEs. Only four people raised their hands in response to the question, "Who threw up yesterday?" I forgot to raise mine. The three wonderful crews who had taken care of me during the flights had said it was absolutely normal to be nauseous in the back of the plane and recommended getting certain medications. My parents and Greg arrived that evening and we had a wonderful steak dinner complete with complimentary chocolate cake in celebration of graduation! The velvety goodness made it all worth it.

Tuesday was graduation; I was valedictorian. Of the 136 people who began the class, only 91 graduated. I learned that of 10,000 applicants monthly, only 3,000 are interviewed and 100 are allowed to wait in line for a training class. This makes me proud. If you've made it to here, I'm also proud of you.