July 4th, 1989
Flew as a passenger from LHR – MAN
Hotel in Manchester
It felt a bit odd checking in at TriStar House today, in civvies instead of in uniform because we were deadheading here.
I was happy to see Frankie in the briefing room and we immediately started chatting about all sorts. The rest of our crew seem nice enough but tomorrow is my first time to New York (arghhh, sooooo excited) and I plan on seeing as much as possible. According to Frankie she knows her way around, “rather well.”
Lyndsey Lobster left a bunch of great pictures in my mail slot at work, mostly of Graeme et moi on our Bermuda trip. Ironically, there was a note from Graeme tucked behind the pictures. “I just wanted to say hello,” he’d written. “Don’t forget to let me know if you need my phone number.”
Sat with Frankie on the fifty minute flight and I can honestly say I don’t enjoy being a passenger, I’d much rather be working. Observing the hectic nature of the service the crew provided during that short flight reminded me that I made the right decision leaving Air Europe and joining British Airways as long haul crew. (The only short flights we operate on the TriStar are the Paris dailies.)
Frankie and I arranged to meet up thirty minutes after we checked in, but she was at my door much sooner than that. She certainly brightened up the room in her bold, vivid coloured top and skirt.
“Get you,” I said.
“Do you fancy going clubbing?”
“I do but if we’re doing that I need to change.”
“Oh no darling, don’t. You look fab.”
We headed out into the streets of Manchester, which, considering it’s Tuesday night, were filled. Went to a few bars and finished the evening in a dank, dodgy looking nightclub that needless to say, we didn’t spend much time in.
We’re in Frankie’s room and just ordered room service. Hope it doesn’t take long…