Plane Insanity: A Flight Attendant's Tales of Sex, Rage, and Queasiness at 30,000 Feet [NOOK Book]


You're belted into a middle seat with burly businessmen on either side. It's 92 degrees in the ...

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Plane Insanity: A Flight Attendant's Tales of Sex, Rage, and Queasiness at 30,000 Feet

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You're belted into a middle seat with burly businessmen on either side. It's 92 degrees in the cabin and someone forgot to use deodorant. A baby screams. A kid kicks the back of your seat. After two hours you haven't even left the taxiway. Welcome to modern airline travel! In Plane Insanity, Elliott Hester delivers stories that could only come from someone who "rides tin" for a living-a flight attendant. You'll hear about:

* the passenger from hell

* a smuggled python

* prostitutes working the lavatories

* a riot in coach-class

* a heist

* the anatomy of a carryon bag

* a malodorous couple

* the Mile-High Club

* and more!

Fasten your seatbelts. After Plane Insanity, you'll never think of air travel the same way again.

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Editorial Reviews

From Barnes & Noble
Flight attendant Elliot Hester's hilarious Plane Insanity is a collection of true stories about working the "friendly" skies. Medical emergencies, lusty passengers, snakes hidden in carry-on bags, and shocking air-rage incidents are just a day at the office for Hester. His lighthearted comic writing and irreverent stories make this an unforgettable read.
Publishers Weekly
In his debut book of hilarious essays, syndicated columnist Hester expertly recounts "lowlights" from his 16-year career as a flight attendant for major U.S. airlines. Like an angrier, more street-wise Dave Barry, Hester zeroes in on bad trips, in-flight fighting, intolerable co-workers and airline procedures, broken airplanes, bad layovers and sex on airplanes (aka the "Mile High Club"). Addicted to "travel by whim," Hester isn't complaining "The ability to fly for next to nothing is the reason I took this job." He's just sharing: "I once saw a drunken couple puke on each other until they looked as if they'd emerged from a pool of oatmeal. I watched a smug-faced man receiving high altitude fellatio from a woman he'd just met on the flight," as well as "full-blown airplane brawls, passenger stampedes, a flight attendant in the midst of a nervous breakdown, passengers in various stages of undress, and stressed-out flyers attempting to open the emergency exit six miles above the Atlantic." These and other stories (an onboard robbery in which $500,000 was stolen on a 727) will be a revelation to anyone who has flown; Hester's careful, well-paced descriptions show that what happens behind the scenes is worse than one could imagine and that modern attendants take this craziness for granted. Hester also provides a wide assortment of various other true-life airline shenanigans taken from newspapers and wire service reports, which adds to his book's lurid charm. 7 b&w illus. (Nov. 7) Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information.
From the Publisher
"...chronicles the circus of modern air travel...with an entertaining edge..." —Andrew Essex, Articles Editor, Details

"In this day of air rage, nothing could be a more timely tonic than Elliott Hester's captivating observations..." —Thomas Swick, Travel Editor, Fort Lauderdale Sun-Sentinel

"...should be required reading for every businessman and woman in coach." —Julie Cooper, San Antonio Express-News

"What a great book! Elliott Hester's insider view of air travel is by turns hilarious, insightful and even touching." —Larry Bleiberg, Travel Editor, Dallas Morning News

"Hester's witty tales and sensuous, cautionary parables, offer an insider's view to travel, sex, and social etiquette...Indispensable." —Nick Charles, Staff Writer, People

"With humor and poignant humanity, Hester confirms what you always suspected:...the flight attendants are thinking exactly what you are." —Jane Wooldridge, Travel Editor, Miami Herald

"Hester gives us a window-seat view of what life in the air is '*really'* like." —Scott Rosenberg, Managing Editor,

"Everyone who's ever flown will recognize at least one character, one incident, one exasperating moment." —Marjorie Robins, Travel Editor, New York Newsday

"By turns funny, outrageous, and revealing." —Keith Bellows, Editor-in-Chief, National Geographic Traveler

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781429905411
  • Publisher: St. Martin's Press
  • Publication date: 4/1/2010
  • Sold by: Macmillan
  • Format: eBook
  • Edition number: 1
  • Pages: 224
  • Sales rank: 253,088
  • File size: 2 MB

Meet the Author

Elliott Hester is a flight attendant, magazine writer, and former travel columnist. He writes "Out of the Blue"--a syndicated travel column carried by the San Francisco Chronicle, Dallas Morning News, Fort Lauderdale Sun-Sentinel, New York Newsday and other daily newspapers. He lives in Miami Beach, FL.

Bestselling author Elliott Hester is a flight attendant, award-winning travel writer, and former columnist. He writes "Continental Drifter," a syndicated travel column carried by the San Francisco Chronicle, The Miami Herald, New York Newsday, and other daily newspapers. He is the author of the books Plane Insanity and Adventures of a Continental Drifter. He lives in Miami Beach, Florida.
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Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

Something Smelly in the Air

Speed and altitude notwithstanding, flying in a commercial jet is not much different than riding in a Greyhound bus. You pay a higher-than-expected round-trip fare, inch sideways down a narrow aisle, toss your carry-on in the overhead, squeeze into a tiny seat next to a stranger whose ass is as wide and unruly as the Australian outback, then try to read, sleep, or stare out the window until you pull into the terminal in Boise or Detroit. Despite advertising campaigns that suggest a level of comfort and attention one might expect aboard the Queen Elizabeth II, air travel, in its purest main-cabin form, is little more than public transportation. Greyhound at thirty thousand feet. Amtrak with wings.

    As with most forms of public transportation, your travel experience is affected as much by the staff as the passengers sitting near you. At times, your seatmates can have an even greater impact. We've all sat next to someone who talked until our eardrums bled, who laughed obnoxiously while watching the in-flight movie or yammered on the telephone until we harbored thoughts of homicide. We've all endured the frequent-flying Goober who sucks his teeth, clips his dirty toenails (toenail shrapnel can be as foul as it is deadly), picks his nose unmercifully, or falls asleep and either drools from one corner of his mouth or snores with the vigor of a drunken wildebeest.

    The more unfortunate among us have suffered worse. On one crowded flight or another, I've been victimized by flatulence—the stealthy, gaseous, repeated break of wind from abusinessman who should never have eaten that burrito. An SBD (silent but deadly) can be a pungent emission, but it's far more civilized than the eye-opening trumpet blast from less conscientious cheeks.

    Flatulence, be it an SBD or a blaring tribute to Herb Alpert, is as short-lived as the crossing of a garbage truck at a busy intersection. You can wait for the pungency to pass (pun intended). You can breathe through your mouth for a little while. Or you can live in denial, like many passengers, pretending you can't smell a thing. But if your seatmate is suffering from a different kind of body odor, if the stench of dirty dishrags and rotten eggs seeps from his armpits like a noxious gas, you might find yourself praying for a cabin depressurization—just so the oxygen masks will drop.

    Not long ago, as our Boeing 767 was ready to depart JFK for Paris, a couple of peevish passengers confronted me and my crew. "We refuse to fly under these conditions," said a man approaching with his wife. Like a growing number of middle-aged American travelers, they were dressed in brightly colored sweat suits, brand new Nike athletic shoes and fanny packs that hung from their waists like decorative sashes. It wasn't clear whether they were preparing to fly to Paris or work as road monitors at the New York Marathon.

    The purser turned to address them. "What conditions?" she asked.

    "It's that group of rowdy Frenchmen," he replied. "They ... they ..." The man couldn't seem to find the right words so his wife interjected. "They stink!" she said, with a sneer.

    The purser and I exchanged a glance and went back to investigate. Sure enough, as soon as we approached the middle of the main cabin, we stopped dead in our tracks and gagged. The funk was alive. It came at us like a mugger in broad daylight. Bold. Brutal. Uncompromising. The stench of old gym shoes and exotic cheese. The reek of bottled sweat.

    The purser's face became a rictus of horror. Looking at her, one would think she had just walked into her bedroom to find her husband in bed with another woman, or perhaps another man. Had she been a new flight attendant on probation, a look like that could have easily gotten her fired. "Inappropriate facial expression," that's what the company calls it. (I know of one probationary flight attendant who lost her job because she rolled her eyes after a passenger made a sexist remark.)

    Inappropriate looks and all, the crew huddled in the first-class galley, trying to figure out what to do. Like reluctant bloodhounds, the purser and I had traced the stench to a cluster of fifteen or twenty Frenchmen. They were laborers: grim-faced, rough-handed, dressed in worn jeans and work boots as if they'd just finished a six-week stint on an oil rig. They spoke easily among themselves as if emitting the redolence of tulips instead of moldy Gouda cheese.

    The two passengers in sweat suits weren't the only ones who were offended. During my very brief stay in the coach cabin, I noticed many tortured faces. Several victims blinked at me as if sending a Morse Code plea for help. An elderly woman fanned her frowning face with an inflight magazine. A man coughed repeatedly into his fist and threw a dirty look my way. Others cursed beneath their breath. A few passengers turned their heads or pinched their nostrils—one guy even draped his head with a blanket. They tried anything to escape the inescapable aroma of hard-working Frenchmen who smelled as if they hadn't bathed since Bastille Day.

    Inside our flight attendant manual—the Bible of rules, regulations and step-by-step procedures that govern every activity from passenger boarding to emergency evacuations—there is a section dedicated to "Passenger Acceptance." Here, the airline provides a list of those who are forbidden on an aircraft: barefoot passengers; infants less than a week old (unless their parents have a physician's note giving approval to fly); intoxicated passengers; those with communicable diseases; those who are clothed in such a way as to offend other passengers; violent, obnoxious and rowdy passengers; anyone carrying an unauthorized firearm—concealed or otherwise. The list goes on and on.

    About halfway down the no-go list, somewhere between handcuffed criminals who refuse to cooperate with their escort, and people who appear to be under the influence of drugs, there's an entry that came in handy on the JFK-Paris flight. It says the airline reserves the right to refuse passage to anyone with an offensive body odor. No joke. The words are right there, written in black and white. If the ghastly smell is the result of a physical handicap or disability, the passenger is allowed onboard and his fellow voyagers will simply have to grin and bear it. But if someone stinks because of ineffective or nonexistent personal hygiene, if that someone could use a quadruple swipe of Right Guard or a dusting of Dr. Scholl's, the airline has the right to dismiss him on the spot—even if religious or cultural beliefs are cited for the offense.

    Luckily, I do not speak French. Once the crew came up with a strategy, one of several French-speaking flight attendants was dispatched to the main cabin. In a very low voice, she told a couple of guys in the group that passengers were complaining about their parfum. The offending men were offended, of course. But not as much as a plane full of pinched-nosed passengers. The accused threw their hands in the air and mumbled in French about the inherent stupidity of Americans (the French-speaking flight attendant made us aware of this later). But when they were told the plane would not leave until the smell had been eliminated, they rose like troopers and marched to the jet bridge where a quick-thinking gate agent had amassed twenty bars of soap and an assortment of underarm deodorant. When the men returned from an airport bathroom, smelling fresh as a dirty street hosed down from the night before, the plane took off. The flight was about fifteen minutes late—a delay that most passengers appreciated.

    It's not always so easy to get putrid passengers to freshen up, however. Once, while boarding a flight from Caracas to Miami, I caught the foul stench of a couple whose collective funk could fuel the warhead of a nuclear stink bomb. While loading oven racks in the galley of a 757, I looked up from a cluster of half-frozen chicken dinners and noticed two passengers moving toward me down the aisle. They were the first to board. The fact that no passengers followed was not unusual. Perhaps they were pre-boards, I thought. Perhaps age or physical disability made it necessary for them to come aboard ahead of everyone else. But they were in their early thirties and showed no apparent signs of disability. There were no children with them, either.

    The reason no one followed, I soon discovered, was that both of them stank to high heaven.

    First, I noticed a slight shift in air quality, as if the door to the Detroit Lion's locker room had opened just a crack. As they approached, the door flew wide open and I staggered backward as if I'd been shot. Suddenly, I was a small boy inhaling a big-city pile of doggie doo. A police diver hit by a pungent stench before splashing into a swamp in search of decomposing bodies. My head ached. My nostrils burned. I thought I was going to wither and die.

    By the time I came out of the lavatory the two passengers had settled into seats 30-A and 30-B. Several pissed-off passengers were waiting for me in the galley. They bombarded me with threats: "You better do something right now, goddammit!" and "I paid too much money to sit next to these pigs." But the most telling comment came from a man who spoke in a slow Southern accent. He shook his head, sucked his teeth and said: "Smells like somethin' crawled up their asses and died."

    I snatched the interphone and conferred with the purser, She told me to tell the couple to come to the front of the aircraft, I argued, insisting that dirty work like this falls under the domain of purser duty "You're in charge of the cabin," I said. "This is why you guys get extra pay." But the purser was busy with another problem in first class. Besides, the galley was filling with passengers trying to escape the fallout. If I stalled any longer we might have a riot on our hands.

    With all the composure I could muster, I approached the aroma-challenged (is that the politically correct term?) couple. I held my breath, speaking from a constricted diaphragm that made my voice sound hoarse. It was like trying to speak after inhaling a joint when you didn't want the smoke to escape. "Excuse me folks," I said. "But ahhh ... the purser ... she ahhh ... she needs to speak with you in the front of the aircraft."

    "The who?" the man asked.

    "The purser. She's the flight attendant in charge of the cabin." Aside from the caustic odor, they seemed like pleasant people. They were dressed in clean casual clothes and smiled as I spoke.

    "What does she want?" he said.

    "She wants to ... well ... It's like this ..." I was running out of air so I threw caution to the stench and blurted out the truth. "To be perfectly blunt, sir, the passengers are complaining ... they say your body odor is offensive ... you need to speak to the purser and try to rectify the problem."

    Like a swimmer who'd been under a few seconds too long, I took a huge gulp of air and immediately wished I hadn't. The couple exchanged a look and threw at me a gaze that could have melted steel.

    "We are not moving!" the man said defiantly.

    After a visit from the gate agent and the captain, after we threatened to call airport security, after impatience nearly gave rise to a passenger revolt, the couple finally grabbed their bags and walked to the front of the aircraft, leaving thirty rows of gagging humanity in their wake. Before leaving the airplane, however, they bestowed upon us a parting comment. The final insult voiced by drunks, obnoxious jerks, and yes, the indelibly stinky—as they are tossed from an aircraft: "We're never flying this airline again."


Excerpted from Plane Insanity by Elliott Hester. Copyright © 2001 by Elliott Hester. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

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Table of Contents

Acknowledgments ix
Introduction xiii
I Bad Trips
1. Something Smelly in the Air 3
2. Payback for a Condescending Jerk 9
3. Flying the Queasy Skies 14
4. The Heist 17
5. Escape from New York 22
6. The Ferret in First Class 34
II Pugnacity Aloft
7. When Fists Flew on the San Juan Special 45
8. Preventing the "Delinquent-Flier" Upgrade 51
9. Conduct Unbecoming an Investment Banker 57
10. The Passenger from Hell 61
III The Motley Crew
11. Fly Boys and Girls 73
12. The Flight Attendant from Hell 85
13. Tests, Drugs and Swollen Bladders 92
IV "Huh?" Traveling in the State of Confusion
14. I Thought This Plane Was Heading to Antigua 99
15. Anatomy of a Carry-On Bag 109
16. Good Ole Airplane Sustenance 115
17. Doing the Non-Rev Shuffle 120
18. Out of the Mouths of Passengers 125
V Rocket Science
19. Adios Hydraulics 135
20. Pass the Defibrillator Please 139
21. Sorry, Captain, I Broke the Airplane 154
22. The Thing About Turbulence ... 160
VI Layovers in Purgatory
23. Beer and Loathing in Caracas 171
24. Sex and the Thin-Walled Hotel Room 178
25. Just Another Flight to Cali, Colombia 183
26. The No-Show 192
VII The MMM-MMM-MMM Mile-High Club
27. Lechery at 30,000 Feet 201
28. Miguel Mendoza: Playboy of the Skies 207
29. Membership Has Its Privileges 211
Afterword 218
Believe It or Not: More Mind-Boggling Airline News from Around the Globe 221
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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4.5
( 18 )
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Sort by: Showing all of 18 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted December 27, 2011


    If you want something light to read,especially in flight this is perfect. Short chapters great for flight or layovers

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 31, 2006


    One of the funniest books I've ever read! I, too am a Flight Attendant for a major airline, and have experienced some similar incidents, which at times, defy belief! You'll love this read!!!

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 5, 2002

    Elliott Hester at his best

    This is the best book I have read written by a Flight Attendant. His tales make me laugh hysterically, and he has good ways of describing people without using their names. A VERY GOOD BOOK... Do not miss it. Read it today

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted June 2, 2014

    Ariana's Bio

    Name: Ariana <p>
    Age: 10 <p>
    Gender: You HAD to ask. Sigh. <p>
    Species: 1/2 PokeHuman, 1/8 pegasus, 3/8 Elemental <p>
    Appearance: Long light green hair the covers her eyes like a Ralts. Her eyes, when uncovered, are bright teal. She has darker green ear-things like Chespin ad tiny Xerneas antlers. She wears a turquoise scarf like Dawn's and a neon green tank top, blue capri leggings, and light blue Converse. She also wears a cape made out of cyan see-through fabric with dark blue music notes on it. Her tail is a Raichu's. <p>
    Personality: I don't know. <p>
    Powers: Ice elemental and the powers of Meloetta, Ralts, Chespin, Raichu, and Xerneas. <p>
    Other: Go. Away. Before. I. Watergun. You.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted June 2, 2014

    Ashoka and pickachus bio

    Ashoka bio <p> name:lk to your left its ashoka <p> age:unknown <p> from:star wars <p> looks:go on the internet and search up star wars or something like that and there be my description but use wiki <p> specialty:lightsaber <P> <p> <p> pickachus bio <p> name:pikcachu <p> age:unknown <p> from:pokemon <p> looks:sear ch up pikachu on the web<p> specialty:lightining

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted June 2, 2014

    Reds bio

    Name: Red <p> gender: male <p> from: pokemon <p> age: about 13 <p> looks: go on the internet and search up pokemon red and you will know what I look like <p> other: ask me

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 13, 2013



    0 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 23, 2013


    Lost steam towards end. Rambled at times.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 11, 2005


    Funny in a way that only 'I'm so glad it's him and not me' can be. Hester's stories are hysterical, and it really makes one wonder why anyone would want to be a flight attendant these days. Thank God Hester was and gave us this smart, well-written and funny book.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 12, 2002


    This is the funniest book I have ever read!! I thought I was about to die I was laughing so hard. I have a waiting list of about 6 people who are waiting to borrow it from me, so they can read it.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted October 28, 2002

    The truth is funnier than fiction

    As only another flight attendant could tell these stories, Elliott Hester is right on. The truth is stranger (and more humorous) than fiction. His anecdotes brought to memory the time I found a dead bird lying feet up on top of a meal tray inside a food cart. The poor bird apparently met his demise after getting trapped inside a catering truck out on the tarmac. Or the time a passenger found a piece of latex glove in in his entree, claiming it had to be a condom. Not! Hester tells it as it is, warts and all. We all could add to his stories, but most of us couldn't tell them as well as he does. Full of laughs for frequent travelers, passenger and crew members alike.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted July 10, 2002

    Too funny!!!!!

    From another flight attendant's point of view - this book is a MUST READ for those who travel, especially for a living! It usually takes me months to read a book - I finished this one in four days!! I couldn't put it down. I'm still laughing....

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted September 4, 2002

    Just PLANE True!

    In case you ever wanted to know what it's REALLY like- the glamorous life as a flight attendant! You're hardly going to believe some of these stories, and from yet another flight attendant in the industry, I assure you they are completely true! Very well written- a highly recommended read!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 9, 2002


    This book is a true thing my friend, get it!!! It's a must and you won't regret it. I just recently bought this book in April and I love it. I travel alot and I know what it's like, and I'll tell ya what, ths book tells whole truth and no lies! This book is outstanding and by far the best book I have ever read. It's a fact that this book is phenomenal and outstanding, no such thing as an opinion!!! :^)

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  • Anonymous

    Posted September 21, 2001

    Sounds great!

    My mother who is a former Flight Attendant got me interested in his stories. Hes hilarious! I've read a lot of his columns so I can imagine his book will be outstanding :D As a future Flight Attendant (One day...) this book is a must in my house. Looks like I know what I am ordering my Mom for Christmas. God Bless & may he keep you safe while you fly the friendly skies :) Mimi~

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 5, 2009

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted April 7, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted November 16, 2008

    No text was provided for this review.

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