True, The Transom doesn’t fly much, but it sure spends time with frequent travelers. And having seen the half-great, half-horrible Jodie Foster vehicle “Flightplan” (also known as “Fly Hard”) on a whim last night, it’s hard not to think that the Association of Professional Flight Attendants and Transport Union Local 556, who are livid about the film’s flight attendant depiction, aren’t suffering from long-term oxygen deprivation.
Please. Those sky bitches should be lucky to be shown as anything other than pyschotic cowgals of the air, unfortunate wranglers of drunks and anxious white people and handsy pilots and a million terroristy-looking folks though they may be. Sure, The Transom literally wouldn’t do their job for a million dollars a year— but have you experienced the jarring transition between the Admiral’s Lounge and the actual plane recently? At last, flight attendants have shed the reputation of being ditzy air mattresses— only to take a role as the most icky expression of the American superego.
— Choire Sicha