Ryan and I flew to D.C. today, via Atlanta. Whenever I'm in an airport flying somewhere, it's inevitable that I remember when I applied to be a stewardess.
I know what you're thinking. "Callie, you're much too [insert your own descriptor here] to be a stewardess." Or perhaps you're thinking, "Callie, you'd be a perfect stewardess!" Regardless, I for a fleeting moment thought it would be fun. (And I was working at Starbucks at the time -- I was a bit flighty. No pun intended.)
I had been searching for jobs in the PR world for about four months, and stumbled across an ad in the Star Tribune about a company looking for flight attendants. If you were interested, you had to go to this hotel for an interview. So I seized the bull by the horns and went. Wearing a business suite. I was dressed for success.
The first round was a big group listening to recruiters talk about the airline. Then they broke us into four or five groups, where we studied some things (I think for a test, but I can't remember). They'd slowly narrow the group down. The final step was a 1:3 (one of me, three of them) interview, which consisted of me standing in front of them and reading a script.
At the end they posted the list for those who were selected to go on in the process, which included a three-week training in Phoenix. I made the list.
I seriously considered going, but about four days after the interview, I met Ryan. He and my dear roommate Kasea tried their best to persuade me to stay. I decided to stay. A few months later I found and job in PR and Ryan and I started dating. I suppose the rest is history...
Sometimes, though, when I'm on a flight asking for a Diet Coke and see the man in front of me flirt with the flight attendant, I wonder where I'd be today if I'd taken a different career... but I'm glad I took the route I did.
I know what you're thinking. "Callie, you're much too [insert your own descriptor here] to be a stewardess." Or perhaps you're thinking, "Callie, you'd be a perfect stewardess!" Regardless, I for a fleeting moment thought it would be fun. (And I was working at Starbucks at the time -- I was a bit flighty. No pun intended.)
I had been searching for jobs in the PR world for about four months, and stumbled across an ad in the Star Tribune about a company looking for flight attendants. If you were interested, you had to go to this hotel for an interview. So I seized the bull by the horns and went. Wearing a business suite. I was dressed for success.
The first round was a big group listening to recruiters talk about the airline. Then they broke us into four or five groups, where we studied some things (I think for a test, but I can't remember). They'd slowly narrow the group down. The final step was a 1:3 (one of me, three of them) interview, which consisted of me standing in front of them and reading a script.
At the end they posted the list for those who were selected to go on in the process, which included a three-week training in Phoenix. I made the list.
I seriously considered going, but about four days after the interview, I met Ryan. He and my dear roommate Kasea tried their best to persuade me to stay. I decided to stay. A few months later I found and job in PR and Ryan and I started dating. I suppose the rest is history...
Sometimes, though, when I'm on a flight asking for a Diet Coke and see the man in front of me flirt with the flight attendant, I wonder where I'd be today if I'd taken a different career... but I'm glad I took the route I did.
2 comments:
Hee. This is great. I didn't know you did this. Of COURSE you made the cut to go to Phx. I can totally see you being a great flight attendant - your perky cuteness would make you a shoe-in. Until they got to know your feisty side perhaps! "No sir I will NOT get you a 5th beer! And do NOT pat my butt again if you know what's good for you!" LOL.
Hope you guys have had a wonderful time on vaca, and looking forward to catching up when you're back in MN.
I also can definitely see this. "Peanuts?" "Headphones?"
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