Sit Down, Sweetie. Your Constant Need to Show and Tell Everyone You’re a Flight Attendant Is Showing.

This is 35% satire, 50% truth, and 15% a forceful push for me to laugh at myself as well. 12 signs you might be a corporate flight attendant, or have been in another life.

To all the flight attendants/cabin attendants/private jet flight attendants—whatever you’re deciding to call yourself today—who list things like “Strict level of confidentiality; known for discernment and respect of HNWI privacy” on their resume, and then fill their Instagram feeds with selfies taken in the guests’ cabin (while tagging the hotel and location immediately after landing)—this one’s for you.

To those of us who feel the insatiable desire to blast a snap of the cabin preflight, lounge by the luxurious pool (even though we ALL recognize that PBI Hilton pool from five miles away..you’re not fooling anyone), or post a balcony view with the caption “Office for the day✌🏼”

And to everyone who has gone out of their way to correct friends and strangers alike when they mistakenly call you a “flight attendant,” instead of “your highness,”…I mean… “corporate flight attendant.”

Here are 12 signs that you are a corporate flight attendant, or could make a really good Instagram corporate flight attendant.

You turn dinners into a photoshoot

No, not into a photoshoot for you and your friends, but for the food. You give meaning to the phrase “phone eats first,” because nothing tastes sweeter than a meal that’s been photographically catalogued in a public manner. In fact, you have a folder in your phone dedicated exclusively to Espresso Martinis Around the World (unless you’re me, then you have one for Aperols but the sentiment remains). If the other doom scrollers aren’t drooling as they sprint through your 12 course meal, slide by slide, then you consider the meal a failure. You’ll try again tomorrow. Tonight’s meal was from a rooftop bar in Miami, tomorrow’s leftover catering in bed at the AC with the blinds held tightly shut with hanger clamps - glamorous isn’t a one size fits all, still photo-worthy based on relatability.

“First World Problems” define you

The presence of those $50 glass bottles of water will make or break the flight. It doesn’t matter if they’re consumed, it matters that they exist. And you mean to tell me that the new exclusive sushi restaurant downtown that takes reservations 6 months in advance won’t fulfill my 1030L local catering order? Who’s name do I need to drop to make this happen? How unhinged of a bribe can I come up with? I dare you to try and source proper champagne in the Pacific Islands. You have a list of hotels that you’ve put on probation because your Marriott profile clearly states that you prefer hypoallergenic down pillows but they keep assigning you rooms with foam ones. And you just haven’t lived until you’ve stayed in a European full-service hotel because the executive lounges put the American ones to shame. 

You get *excited* to correct someone when they mistake you for a regular flight attendant

Because they’re literally not even the same job.

You’ve complained about flying commercial (this week)

Plebeians. Peasants. Commoners. The “gen pop”. All words to describe the people on either side of you on your Delta flight to meet the jet. Words that, should another corporate flight attendant also be on this flight, would be used to describe you (unless they saw you flash your Flight Safety “Crew” badge in the most nonchalant way you could, while also making sure everyone saw it.) Because YOU only fly private! And by fly private you mean work, cook, clean, serve, polish toilets, load bags, have peoples’ lives in your hand whilst on a private jet. Those reels of people packing charcuterie to-gosies and mini cocktail shakers and bringing them onboard? You invented it..can you say “quiet luxury?” No, you can’t - not onboard the Greyhound of the skies with those engines ringing in your ears and that toddler than just sneezed directly into your hair.

Your apartment is filled with tchotchkes from around the world..what? THIS old thing?

Oh! I found those in a cute little shop in Amsterdam, and that rock is from Alaska. And that…I can’t remember, but probably from a bazaar in Morocco or something. Not pictured - food poisoning.

Honestly, these are my favorite things around the house. They hold memories, stories, and make my home feel “lived in”..like my home is MINE.  

When someone asks where you’re from, you respond with an airport code

And…CMH would be..where exactly? If you listened to a conversation between a flight crew, the amount of acronyms would blow your mind, and yet somehow they know EXACTLY what each other is saying.

Your stories are indistinguishable from an Alexis Rose experience

Ugh, that reminds you of this time you were on a layover in Switzerland at this mountain chalet with the 3rd in line prince from a country that you cannot speak of, sworn to secrecy through this weird ritual involving shark teeth, the blood of a goat, and a blonde lock of human hair. And they were like, “Please come with us to Nepal to see that new underground emo rap group go on tour!” And you were like “No, I can’t! I have to source fresh beluga caviar for my trip to Tahiti..”

And then everyone looks at you, confused as to how a story about their kids picking up hand foot and mouth at daycare jogged that particular memory of yours.

You are a modern-day Mary Poppins

You’ve learned to plan for anything! Prepare for the worst! So yeah, that’s why you have plating tongs, museum putty, a Japanese face mask, wrinkle removal spray, playing cards, 7 different hotel key cards, Tums, a headlamp, and a rogue mini Diet Coke can. Just the necessities, and just in case. 

“Who me?! I’m not an influencer..” You said as you shyly shot a soft smile over your shoulder, being secretly flattered

People have jokingly called you “an InFlUeNcEr” because your Instagram feed rivals that of a trendy blonde who is fooling everyone into thinking that she actually makes a living sharing her travel recommendations and filtered beach photos and isn’t married to that 6’5” blue-eyed man in finance. 

You have been referred to as the “always down” friend

Are you always home? Almost never. But when you are, you are DOWN. Last-minute pit seats to see the Backstreet Boys? See you in 15. Want to tag along on my trip to Cabo? Consider the ticket already booked. We prefer our plans to be spur of the moment because that’s the only way we know how to live. Don’t ask us if we can do something in 2 weeks, ask if we can do something in 2 hours.

You nonchalantly/extremely chalantly bring the best appetizer and bites to the party

You go full Martha Stewart on them. The most casual, least casual person. They asked you to bring a light snack, and you showed up with charcuterie…AND you brought the entire Italian deli AND the vineyard…and you also thought they might want something sweet, so you baked fresh seasonal tarts. When you brought it, you showed up early and are now assigned yourself as a secondary host. 

You would make a REALLY good rich person

You’ve thought about it, you’re in. You know too much. One night at the Viceroy in Aspen, and you knew. You know where the rich and famous spend their holidays, you know how they travel, you’ve seen the fun toys, and you’re well-versed in their palates and appetites (and where to find the best ways to fulfill these, now, NEEDS). You’ve seen all the world has to offer, at least the good parts of it, and you understand how to make the most of it. It’s as if this.

We laugh because it’s true and because we’re all guilty of it (umm hello? Who do you think inspired all of these?✋🏼). At the end of the day, whether we’re flying private or commercial, serving a cocktail or stirring it for ourselves, we’re all just trying to find a little meaning (and good lighting) at 45,000 feet.