I had this excellent opportunity to fly Spicejet from Guwahati to Kolkata after returning from a north east tour with a bunch of friends who joined from Mumbai.
Disclaimer for the Dumb: I am not appreciating you in any way in the rest of the monologue! And yes, I am going to be sarcastic while I recount my superb experiences endured in a short span of 1.5 hours.
Part I: The moment you realize: What is meant by hospitality?
A flight attendant who obviously was hired by Spicejet based on her skills and professionalism, not to mention simple humane acts like providing a glass of hot water for guests with a choked up nose and an excruciating pain in the ear due to sudden changes in cabin pressure.
With a name-tag that said “Rimjhim” (don’t really know if that’s even her real name, since all the Rimjhims known to me are hookers and/or exotic dancers), the attendant was marching to and fro throughout the 1 hour flight.
I am a very forgiving person and understand the disabilities faced by people with low IQ and even the borderline retarded. So, not once, but thrice, I pressed the button over my head, which ironically had a picture of a god damn stick figure holding a glass of water. She approaches, turns of the button, and vanishes into the crowd of dumb ugly people dressed in maroon. Nothing.
Losing all hopes of getting out of the flight alive, I gave up and waited for my whole life to flash in front of my eyes. Alighting the flight.
Me: What about that glass of hot water?
Rimjhim: (panicking and crapping her panties) Oh, sorry sir! One moment.
She reached for some knob beside the flight door, when I finally decided, “Fuck it, I have better things to do in life.” Since I was still alive, I walked away.
Part II: Who the hell handles the cargo?
Waiting for the luggage my friend checked into the cargo. Apparently some genius who is supposed to pick up the luggage from the flight and put it on the conveyor belt (a simple job that does not require the use of brain cells at any point of time) decides to actually “Spice up” his boring job. He extends the handle on my friend’s trolley suitcase and keeps it on a tray, with the handle still extended and sticking out of the tray. As soon as the luggage reached the conveyor belt it slid across the sloping surface of the belt, hit the edges and the extended handle broke into two halves. The brand new suitcase at that very point of time looked like a banged-up cheap ungroomed male flight attendant, like the ones employed by the so called low fare airlines that are owned by television networks (Not your area of expertise bro, stick to the annoying serials and masala movies remade in atleast for languages).
This happened to four other passengers too. The Spicejet airport staff, appeared baffled and actually had no SOPs for such cases. After a long discussion over their walkie-talkies, they found a form and took down the damage information, passenger details etc. Time: 12.30am.
Yes. In case if you are wondering, the airport staff was a bunch of retards too. They had trouble taking down addresses and spelling words that appear in addresses like “Phase.” He took down “pace”. Yes that’s where I stay. Right beside “U-R-A-Moron Rod”
Spicejet, I really appreciate you guys hiring retards and people with special needs (whichever is politically correct) whom no other airline would hire in the right sense of mind. That is, unless they actually want to get rid of frequent fliers.
So next time you want to have a fun time and observe the unevolved monkeys, skip the zoo… fly Spicejet!
Well that concludes my travelogue/monologue.
Written by Sagar Iyer. Travelled with Rakesh Marar, Abhilash Nair and Mrinal Dutta.