Saturday, July 22, 2006

Escape at Red Stick

OK, this is what happened.
Last Friday, and as more of a joke than anything else, I applied online to be a flight attendant. You don't get hired to be those things, no one does. Flight attendants are grown in vats in an underground hangar deep in the Southwest, everyone knows that. But Sunday they emailed me, inviting me to a 'group interview' on Monday. This interview was an interesting mix of boot camp and motivational speech assembly. And then Tuesday, they emailed again, congratulating me and asking me to confirm my spot in their training class, which begins in three weeks.
I'm getting out of Baton Rouge.
This will always be my home. But in order to return triumphant to your home someday, you have to leave it. I tried once with the military, but they brought me right back, so looks like this is it.
They'll train me in Utah (yeah, Utah) for a month. I hear stories of CPR, water survival, and navigating a smoke-filled cabin. And then I'll be sent to a 'domicile' city in accordance with the needs of the airline. Mind-blowing to think that, two months from now on my birthday, I will be living in a completely new city, having been tossed dartlike at the western side of the U.S.
The next three weeks will be a hectic uncoupling from everything I'm used to. Family. Friends. New Orleans. All of my keys.