Flight Attentiveness

I'm on a plane. Yes, this is some really profound shit right here. This is the second of three planes taking me on this journey. The first one was considerably smaller and less comfortable, but had a more attractive flight attendant, which is what got me thinking about stewardesses. I know "flight attendant" is the more politically correct term, but for our purposes this time around, "stewardess" is more appropriate. Because it's outdated. Because it's sexist. We're talking about filth and fantasy tonight, folks. Ready?

I wonder what it's like having a job with so much kinky fantasy baggage attached to it. Stewardess, Nurse, Maid, Nuclear Physicist, whatever other occupations feature heavily into the porn industry and basically anything with a uniform. (Note: I'm leaving off Schoolgirl even though it fits both criteria because it's not actually a job, and Cheerleader because it's performance-based and overall intentionally sexual anyway.) "Coffee, Tea, or Me" aside, these are for the most part ordinary women trying to perform a job which in reality is innocent and non-sexual.

But it isn't.

Not to us.

Not to Men.

I think it's safe to say most guys raise an eyebrow when they hear that a woman is a nurse. Or better yet, nursing studynt. Younger. College girls, you know. How many men can't hear the word "maid" without subconsciously putting "French" before it? I think there's very few single guys out there who board an airplane without at least a fleeting consideration at some point of hitting on the stewardesses. I'll admit that I've been called a pervert by a fair share of people, but I really doubt I'm in the minority of males on this one. Sure, we're pigs. So what's it like being in a position so likely to be the object of our pigishness?

Is it flattering when you first notice it? Then just tiresome as it continues, day in and day out? Or are you offended when you hear that subtle suggestive taint in a man's voice? But eventually you just get numbed to their sexist assumptions? Do you ever get caught up in the fantasy yourself, thinking about sneaking off for a private tryst with a handsome passenger, patient, customer, or client? Or is there hate behind your eyes every single time you have to smile and bend over a man to offer a drink, your forced pleasantness hiding the knowledge that even if you did let him flirt with you, did want to meet him at a motel during the layover that it wouldn't really be you he's interested in, just the job, just the mystique, just the uniform and the bragging rights?

I'm reaching out here, ladies. You can tell me. I want to understand how you feel, to share your laughter, your frustration, or your grief. Because I'm a caring, sensitive guy.
You know, the kind you want to sleep with.