Tales of a high-altitude coffee and tea dispenser

by hiigaran

8: El No A You Smoko!

After countless annual refresher courses and exams we call 'recurrents' that ensure you are still competent in the fields of safety, security and medical, certain procedures will feel like they have been drilled into your head, over and over and over again, until your reaction to certain events become almost unconscious, or second-nature. For instance, after dealing with so many cases of passengers fainting on our long-haul flights, you become desensitized to the distress of passengers and manage the situation without thinking. Within seconds, you'd have the patient on oxygen and his or her legs elevated to get more blood flowing back to the head.

Another example would be your response to an equally common event involving a triggered lavatory smoke detector. It starts with you performing your service-related duties, until you hear a chime, or 'ding'. Your first reaction is to look upwards at the call bell indicator and roll your eyes, wondering if some high-maintenance, overly demanding passenger wants yet another shandy, until you realize that this particular 'ding' sounds different. It keeps repeating, and rather than seeing a steady blue light, you see a flashing amber light instead.

In that split second during which you feel a surge of adrenaline wash through your body, you and every single other crew member will drop everything, regardless of where you are in the aircraft and run for the nearest fire extinguisher, or 'halon'. With a couple of flicks on the halon's quick-release fittings, we then run towards the affected area, knocking down obstructing passengers if need be. In the next few seconds, most of the crew are crouching and poised on either side of the lavatory with halons at the ready, not unlike soldiers ready to breach. The first one on the scene would feel the door and check if it is hot or cold. A hot door indicates a large fire, which requires opening the door just enough to fit the halon nozzle in, while minimizing the amount of smoke that would spew out. Once an entire halon is discharged, the crew would investigate to determine if the fire is out, or if additional halons are required. If need be, smoke hoods are donned.

Never in EAL's history has there ever been a hot door scenario. At least, not one that actually involved fire. Several years ago, one of my roommates in our company-provided accommodation operated a flight from Stalliongrad to Fillydelphia. One thing you should know about passengers from Stalliongrad is that they are heavy drinkers, and heavy smokers. You'd be surprised at how many ponies try to tamper with lavatory smoke detectors to get their fix. Petroleum jelly, sticky tape, plastic cups...anything to cover the smoke detector. There have even been instances where ponies would take blankets with them, covering themselves and the toilet in an attempt to contain the smoke. With each puff, they would flush the toilet and use the suction to draw away the exhaled smoke. In every case, the smokers were caught, their passports were held by the purser and they were subsequently fined. Severely. See, what ponies don't realize is that these are not your ordinary smoke detectors. They are highly sensitive. The slightest trace of smoke will set them off. Hay, even perfumes will. Makes you think twice before having the chickpea masala, doesn't it?

The first time I had a smoke detector going off, I saw the purser—this giant body-builder of a stallion from Manesoura—thundering down the aisle with fire in his eyes, the ground shaking with each approaching step. Pulling the hapless smoker from the lavatory, he pressed the offender up against the galley wall. Despite the fearful smoker apologizing profusely, the purser yelled back in his thick accent and booming voice, "You're not sorry! You're styoobid! You're STYOOBID!" and gave the nearby passengers a good show as he reduced the poor guy to tears. Two thousand seven hundred bit fine upon landing. Airlines don't mess around with this. Stick a lit cigarette into the wastebin full of paper towels, and you'll have a raging fire in mere moments. Potential secondary fires may erupt in unreachable places, and pretty soon, it will burn through the aluminium fuselage if you're lucky. If you're unlucky...? Well, electrical cables and hydraulic lines probably aren't that important, right?

Anyway, back to my roommate. His name is Bulkhead, and had the pleasure of experiencing something rather unique. Something which involved the aircraft diverting to the nearest airport for the smoker in question. After tampering with the smoke detector, our victim puffed away on multiple cigarettes. Eventually the smoke detector did go off, and the standard crew response ensued. Bulk being the first one on the scene had felt a hot door. Or rather, a warm one, but it still warranted following hot door procedures. As a result, the smoker received a face full of halon. Not exactly healthy when you breathe it in out of shock. While halons are highly effective against solid, liquid and electrical fires, they are also toxic in large quantities, such as when receiving a fire suppressant bukkake.

Oh right, my apologies. We're eating here. Sorry for that mental image.

Of course, the crew were quite confused as well. How did the door warm up in the first place? Turns out that the smoker was putting out his butts on the metal frame of the bi-folding door. Bulk's guess was that he was smoking multiple cigarettes simultaneously, causing the metal to warm up enough when he put out the cigarettes. He was just unfortunate enough that Bulk felt the door at the exact point where the butts were extinguished on the other side.

Anyway, while I'm positive that particular smoker will never dare to pull another stunt like that again, it upset me greatly that I was not on that flight. Discharging a halon in some smoker's face will most definitely be found on the bucket list of any crew member, right between restraining a passenger, and smacking one with a silver tray after being asked for a black coffee with milk. Sadly—or I suppose, thankfully—I've just dealt with cold door events. For those, we simply open the door to either catch the smoker in the act, or find them frantically flailing their hooves in the air, in a futile effort to dissipate the smoke.

Then there are the false alarms, mostly triggered by perfumes or aerosol deodorants. One particular event was most traumatizing for me. After hearing and seeing the indications of a triggered smoke detector, I bolted up the aisle with my halon and arrived first on the scene. Crouched low, I determined it to be a cold door. Upon opening it, I came face to face with the rear of an old stallion. Naturally, I yelped in shock at the sudden appearance of a pair of wrinkly orbs that I had not expected to see so close to my face. Equally shocked, the lav's occupant screamed at the sudden sound, stumbling back in the process and knocking me over with his rump, darkening my vision as he toppled back and ended up sitting on my face.

I spent the rest of the flight using antibacterial gel as facial cream and mouthwash.

Author's Note:

Bonus points for whoever knows the origin of the chapter title!