What I'm really thinking

At the start of a flight, I usually look around the cabin and think, "How am I going to serve this lot in the time I've got?" I fly short-haul, so I get about half an hour to serve 50 people. The leisure passengers are more rowdy – the holiday starts when they get on the aircraft, and they just want to party, get drunk – but I prefer them to the ­businessmen, who are like small boys. I'm thinking, you probably earn in a week what I earn in a year, and you can't even figure out where your seat is, or turn off your laptop when you're asked to. I like getting leisure passengers drunk. They get friendlier and it ­relieves the tedium. I turn a blind eye to drugs as well – my ­favourite flight is Ibiza, because I find it ­amusing to see what state people are in after a week's clubbing. The Nice route is the worst. People think they're flying club or something. They just hand you their dirty glasses without even looking at you. Sometimes I just want to scream, "Look at me, you fuckers!" They seem to think they're in a ­restaurant, not an aircraft hurtling through the sky. We're trained to look out for ­unusual behaviour – we've had air rage, breakdowns, fights – but we're also looking around for the best- and worst-looking passengers. We compare notes for "best on board". The social side of the job is great. I've been drinking in a pool at 5am with cabin crew and captains before an 8am flight. I don't worry about it. The ­flying is mostly computerised; the plane lands itself, really. • Tell us what you're really thinking at [email protected]