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// 7: Safety First 
// Story: Tales of a high-altitude coffee and tea dispenser 
// by hiigaran 
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In this job, you’ll immediately realize an unfortunate truth. Despite the fact that you are first and foremost present for safety, your passengers will never see you as anything more than a high-altitude coffee and tea dispenser, as well as an emotional punching bag for when things beyond your control end up going wrong. Had a bad experience on a previous flight? Not my fault. Need to change aircraft due to technical reasons? Be glad we're doing this, instead of losing an engine mid-flight. Verbally abusing me because bad weather shut the airport down? Believe me, I'd send you into that raging hurricane if I could, but I'd rather sit comfortably in the airport lounge instead.

Now you may recall me mentioning passengers such as dear Prince Blueblood taking issue to my request to put his seatbelt on, but the list can go on and on regarding passenger reactions to simple safety procedures. I had the...pleasure of flying with Rainbow Dash for a second time between Cloudsdale and the Crystal Empire, in which she was given an extra large serving of poetic justice, but one which I did not appreciate in the aftermath. A lot of paperwork was involved, and I had to write to one of the crews' manager because she failed to secure her area of the cabin properly. I hate writing to managers.

As the aircraft rolled away from the terminal and taxied to the runway, my crew and I began securing our respective areas of the cabin from the moment we completed the safety demonstration. For me, that involved ensuring about thirteen rows of passengers at the back on the left side of the aircraft were ready for takeoff. Seatbelts fastened, armrests down, window shades up, seats and tray tables upright, overhead lockers secured, no loose items in the emergency exit and bulkhead rows, and so on.

Approaching the familiar rainbow-maned pony, I found her snoring up a storm in 40C, the outboard aisle seat about four rows aft of the L4 door. Granted, that in itself wasn’t a safety issue, assuming the two idiots all the way up front could hear air traffic control over the demonic noises blaring from the gaping maw of our national hero. However, the more immediate issue was a large bag jammed between her seat, and the one in front.

Waking the irate pegasus from her drooling slumber, I informed her that I would need to place the bag in the overhead locker for take-off. Her response was to frown, 'assure' me it was fine where it was, and ask “Why?”

Because it may hinder egress during an evacuation. Because it is a large and heavy loose object that may cause serious injury in adverse weather conditions. Because our governing air law has outlined the procedures we must follow regarding cabin safety and security. Because it is my job to ensure these procedures are adhered to by passengers and crew, and that both myself and EAL may be severely penalized by failing to adhere to these regulations. Because reasons.

Not that passengers ever listen to the real reasons. So I did what cabin crew do best, and gave her a big, steamy pile of horse manure. I ended up telling her that because we expect a bit of rough weather, her bag might get thrown about, and that it would be a shame if something inside were to break. Remember, always place emphasis on the disappointment of having something break. Works like a charm, as always, so eventually she kicked the bag out into the aisle after some melodramatic groaning, and I proceeded to stow it above.





My tale was briefly interrupted when I heard the door to Sugarcube Corner open. "Speak of the devil..." I snorted, observing the blue pegasus waltzing in. Glancing in my direction, she did a double-take and her eyes widened upon recognizing me. Though halfway up to the counter, her ears splayed back, and she backed out of the store with her head held low.

I returned my gaze to Flitter. "As I was saying..."





After securing my area, I started receiving the interphone calls from the rest of the economy class crew, stating their areas of responsibility were secured. Once I strapped myself in, I called the purser and informed her that economy class was secured. Shortly after, the Captain's voice came over the PA to prepare for takeoff, and I heard the engines whine as the aircraft accelerated to line up on the runway. Watching one of the IFEs in the last row, I saw the aircraft’s forward camera align perfectly with the runway, and heard the engines whine again with increasing intensity, before blaring that satisfying roar of dual, three and a half meter diameter, high-bypass turbofan engines. You ever heard those things in action? Makes a manticore's roar sound like a newborn kitten.

I continued watching the runway’s centerline stripes dart down faster and faster on the screen, when I noticed Rainbow Dash sliding out of her seat and making her way forward towards the lavatory just behind the L4 jumpseat, struggling slightly against the acceleration of the aircraft. Despite the noise, I could just manage to make out the exchange of words between her and the crew seated at that jumpseat.

“Ma’am! Ma’am you need to sit down right now!”

“I’m just going to the toilet. I’ll be out in a bit.”

“We’re taking off! You need to return to your seat immediately!”

“Hey, when ya gotta go, ya gotta go. What’s the worst that could happen?” she waved a hoof dismissively, her rainbow tail being the last part of her to disappear into the lavatory. The crew at L4 leaned over and looked at me helplessly. I simply shrugged. Crew safety comes first, so we could only hope no incident would come of this.

Of course, miss tiny-bladder had to utter those six magic words. That bad weather the Captain briefed us about before flight turned out to be worse than expected, and for about a minute shortly after take-off, we found ourselves being thrown about in some nasty weather, with several moments of brief weightlessness. As quickly as it came, it stopped, and once the seatbelt sign had come off, I immediately went to the lavatory to check on the pegasus, who had not come out since.

I knocked on the door. "Excuse me, are you alright in there?" No response. "Ma'am, I'm going to open the door..." I paused for a moment, just in case, then proceeded to lift the little metal flap above the vacant/occupied sign to slide the lock open. As I pushed the bi-folding door open to the side, I came across a rather peculiar sight.

There were feathers everywhere! The pegasus was upside-down with her hooves tangled in themselves and her tail. The mirror above the washing basin had swung out, revealing wires, plumbing, and extra rolls of toilet paper stored within. The light fittings for the shattered mirror were hanging loose from their plugs, flickering as they swung to and fro and smacking the dazed pegasus in the head. Looking down at the rest of her body, I noticed a few bleeding cuts and noted the fur and ruffled wings of the groaning pony was matted with what I could only hope was apple juice.

Needless to say, I think she learned her lesson when it came to following crew instructions.