Out Of My Eye, You

This job seems to be all about keeping bad things out of your eyes. Even a thing as innocuous as closing the aircraft door is an ocular invasion waiting to happen. When the door's open, it's stairs, and so while you're busy saying hello several hundred times, it's collecting the dirt and bits of junk that fall off of people's shoes to use on you later. When, you ask? Why, when you close the door, of course. By now I've learned to always keep my eyes shut when I haul the door closed, because if you're looking up when the door clangs shut over your head, it gleefully flings its detritus right in your eyes. And at that point, I'm sorry to say, your only option is to stagger around the aisle with your hands over your eyes, screaming, "I'M BLIND I'M BLIND!" That scares passengers. The pilots think it's a riot, though.
Speaking of that... this one girl I flew with had flown with another airline that used old and banged-up planes, and once when she opened the lav door, the door carved several spiral bits of metal out of the door track, and they fell into both her eyes. What do you do, I asked her, when you have lav shrapnel sticking out of your eyes? She went to the hospital is what she did, where they put yellow dye in her eyes so they could see the metal bits and pluck them out with tweezers ohhhh. And that crappy airline made her work the next day, yellow eyes and all. What a crappy airline.