Maybe I underestimated you and for sure you’ve overestimated me. I assumed that you would have the capacity to think of me as more than a flight attendant fling or uncommitted counterpart. “It’s perfect,” you secretly surmise over two unpretentious cups of coffee— the type of beverage that squashes expectations and skirts responsibility. “She can’t, in any way, actually want a relationship,” you ignorantly think. “She’s a flight attendant.”

Oh yes— that is true. I am a flight attendant, but the phrase ‘flight attendant’ is NOT, and should NOT, and never will be synonymous with the terms ‘slut,’ ‘heartless,’ “emotionally detached,” or “robot soul.” If you have met a flight attendant accurately associated to those descriptives, the professional gypsy in question has greater issues than simply her job title, and if you date her, you will have more problems too.

Stereotypes exist for a reason, and you are proving one of mine to be correct. I disappointedly notice that you are just another man who wants easy, quick, and hassle-free companionship. You think that I am your perfect flight attendant. That’s fine, but for the record, I am not. Please stop pegging ‘flight attendant” as the ideal for a no strings conquest. It doesn’t work like that.

I am a flight attendant and with that, either fueled by the job or innately woven into the fabric of who I am, is an endless sense of wonder for people, places, and exploration. That might be why you perceive me as someone who craves a fling. I see how your flawed logic makes sense for you, but for me, do you know what I crave? I crave a man who has the courage to show up, live up and arrive at our relationship intentionally day after day— whether I’m in this city or that city. Whether it happens to be a good day for us or a bad day for us. I crave someone just willing to say, “It’s us, Babe. It’s us.” It’s so simple, really. Casual complicates everything. 

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I’m independent, bubbly, ambitious, and happen to be lucky enough to work in a career where only 1-4% of applicants make the cut. I’m not bragging or saying that I’m special, but what I will demand is that you stop treating me as average. The average girl who you can play because you have a pretty face. The average girl who won’t stand up for what and who she deserves. The average stereotype of a flight attendant that you simply believe, because no one showed you otherwise. Well, fuck average, and fuck you.

You’ve overestimated me. You’ve overestimated my capacity to tolerate and put up with bullshit. Fly on my airplane, and I’ll smile and serve you coffee, politely, all day long. Sit across from me while you drink your coffee and don’t expect me to politely accept your definition of who a flight attendant is to you. To me, a flight attendant is an unstoppable force with ideas, ambition, goals, and self-respect; displaying a poise, persistence and an unmatched capacity to care. You’ve missed this because you first defined me by my job title, second by my looks, and third by my surface-level carefree nature. Stop that shit!

With the last drop of coffee swirling in an off-white ceramic mug, I smile in hopeful and happy expectation. “He seems sincere. He seems genuine. He seems great.” Somehow, I’ve missed that ‘unattachment’ is the cream to his cold brew. These were never sincere dates or ‘pre-dates,’ but undercover interviews to land an ideal candidate to casually date. Fuck casual dating and you forgetting that flying doesn’t make me an easy target for your next fling. Because it doesn’t.

Yes. Fuck casual dating and don’t try to find another flight attendant. They probably read this blog and know exactly what you look like.



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