Mayday on the Ground!

2 11 2014

Two flight attendants sat in their jump seats, with their backs to the cockpit, and facing passengers. I was sitting in seat 1C, which put us nearly within arm’s reach of each other, and in a position to clearly hear and see what was about to take place.

 

We had just landed at Raleigh-Durham Airport, following a one hour flight from Atlanta. As we slowly taxied toward the terminal, one older, and very diminutive, gentleman came walking at full trot, knees locked together, down the aisle toward the front of the plane. He was in the fig leaf position, as if he had just stepped out of the shower only to find all of his friends and a news photographer waiting for him.

 

One of the two flight attendants got quite excited as she told the man he had to return to his seat until we get to the terminal.

 

The contortions in his face told us he was in dire straits, but the flight attendant persisted. “Sir, FAA regulations…” she never finished that last thought. She was interrupted by his pleas in a language which I did not recognize. He repeated, almost tearfully, whatever it was he said, but then realized he wasn’t making his point as no one could understand him. Finally, holding a firm grasp on the situation, he blurted, “Pee-pee! Pee-pee!”

 

That worked for him. The compassionate flight attendant decided that his emergency trumped FAA regs at the moment, and he was allowed to jump into the rest room. Crisis averted.

 

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