Authors: Patricia Reid
Flying with the Rich and Famous: True Stories from the Flight Attendant who flew with them (6 page)
It wasn’t until much later, when the meal service was winding down, that I finally had an opportunity to speak with Ms. Taylor. I found her eyes to be what everyone said: utterly unique and striking. They were the most unusual color blue that I’d ever seen—a deep rich hue, lined with dark cat-like rings and black lush lashes that made them appear violet. They seemed to pierce your soul, yet with warmth and integrity. They took my breath away, truly. When I refilled her coffee she looked up at me, touched my arm and said thank you with sincere gratitude and a quick bat of her eyelashes. She said how wonderful it must be to fly for such a lovely airline, to which I responded, “Well, it certainly is with charming people like you aboard!” She was extremely beautiful and extremely kind, very personable,
warmhearted, and well mannered. She was definitely one of the finest celebrities I’ve ever flown with.
What left a lasting impression on me was watching Felicia squirm out of one of the most famous diamonds in the world to return it to its rightful owner. She had captured much attention wearing it, and she wasn’t giving it back without an audience. With childlike fun she milked taking off that ring for all it was worth. We all began to chuckle as she very slowly inched it up her finger, pretending it was too tight and needed to be precisely maneuvered. Even Ms. Taylor was enjoying this little show. When Felicia finally returned the exquisite ring, many of us began clapping. I wrapped my arms around my friend as if to say, “It’s okay, missy, there’ll be another ring someday!” After we all said goodbye to Elizabeth Taylor, we talked about how much we loved her, especially the way she embraced her fame and the responsibility that went with it.
ROD STEWART
When I realized that I was going to be flying rock star Rod Stewart, I was thrilled beyond belief. My sister has had a thing for the sexy rock star since I can remember. She played his
Every Picture Tells a Story
album over and over and over again. I mean, I know every word to every song on that album. To this day, he is on her to-do list—you know that list we all have where if the moon falls from the sky and
Rod Stewart came on the airplane a little tipsy with a sexy swagger and a “cheerio” smirk upon his face. I swear he was a walking, talking advertisement for his song, “Do You Think I’m Sexy?” Yes, Rod, we think you are.
He was a happy-go-lucky guy. He had every right to be—his career was rock solid and climbing. He was very thin and had
a head of hair that was blond and wild like the cartoon character Lisa on
The Simpsons
, except it wasn’t drawn in yellow crayon. His outfit was, however, like yellow crayon—very bright and eye-catching, and, believe me, he caught everyone’s eye. He was dashing. Then he spoke to me in that delicious accent and it all came together,
Forget it, Sis, if the moon falls, I get first dibs!
He was exaggerated in every way. He asked for a cocktail right away and continued downing them one after another. Each cocktail brought him to an even more cheerful place. He was animated during our brief, delightfully amusing conversations. We had an easygoing repartee, and he was easy to please. As he drank, his accent became more and more pronounced and by the end of the flight, I could barely understand him.
But with the outfit, the hair, and the personality, I was loving life and grateful for the opportunity. He was the kind of celebrity that didn’t require much attention, and he was very considerate. I had a marvelous time flying across the continent
with him, and I secretly hoped to have the opportunity to serve him again.
And that I did, shortly after our first flight. When he came aboard, I could tell immediately that something was different. His whole demeanor had changed. There was no animation this time. He was quiet and reserved. Maybe he needed a cocktail, I thought. But when I asked him for his choice of beverage, he requested “fizzy water.”
What the heck is fizzy water?
I wondered to myself. He must have seen the surprised look on my face because he quickly explained that fizzy water is sparkling water. Oh, thanks for the clarification, maybe he’s just thirsty. Or maybe he’s preparing his kidneys for the upcoming festivities. I anxiously awaited the call for alcohol, but it never came. He drank only fizzy water. No alcohol at all.
He seemed much more “British” on this flight and a wee bit shy. There were no bubbly conversations—no bubbly of any
kind. He kept to himself and was very quiet. I was bewildered. I really didn’t get it. Maybe his cat just died. Maybe the cleaners ruined his yellow coat. What had happened to Mr. Wonderful? It was very strange.
As I tended to the other passengers, I noticed Rod looking at me with a weird expression on his face. When I approached him, he began to chuckle. He seemed to know something I didn’t, and it quite amused him. I thought he was going to start drinking, but then he told me that he was on “week off.”
“Excuse me? What do you mean ‘week off?’ I asked.
He explained that he lived a week-on/week-off lifestyle: one week he drank, and the next he didn’t. Wow! Thank you! Mystery solved! I explained my confusion to him, and he broke into heartfelt laughter. I served him another fizzy water and went back to my role of fervent fan and first-class flight attendant. Now that I understood, he was the man sitting on the moon again (please Rod, gain some weight, so the moon will fall). The
duration of the flight was awesome. He was much more chatty and lively even without the alcohol. Polite and easy-going, he smiled at me a lot. I adored him. What a rock star role model Rod was.
DOM DELUISE
I love to rollerblade on the boardwalk in Newport Beach, California, where I lived, cruising along, listening to my music and inhaling the scent of the ocean and sand. One sunny day, just as I was lacing up my boots, I received a phone call. It was disappointing to have to stop what I was doing and pack a suitcase, but that’s the way this lifestyle works. When I read the manifest, however, I was happy to trade in my rollerblades for a set of wings. Movie and TV star Burt Reynolds had booked the charter for him and his friends.
Unfortunately, Burt was not feeling well, so we were told to monitor him without intrusion. We sat Burt in the very rear of
the aircraft where he could have peace and privacy, and he was subdued for the most part.
One of the guests on this charter was comedian Dom DeLuise. Dom and Burt were best buds and often co-starred in various film and television projects, usually comedies. Dom had a reputation for being funny—really funny. I had read that movie shoots took longer when he was involved just because people couldn’t stop laughing. So, I was expecting this to be one hilarious flight.
Dom boarded the airplane with a huge smile on his face and introduced himself to everyone, shaking each person’s hand vigorously and thanking us before we even did anything. He was very exuberant, gregarious, and excited to be on the flight. He made me feel like we were all lucky to be alive and on this airplane together because we were going to have so much fun. While I escorted him to his seat, he linked my arm, waved the other hand with a lively gesture and said with a jovial flourish,
“Show me the way!” When we got there, he gave me a bear hug, so huge it consumed my entire being. After I caught my breath, I thought,
this flight is indeed going to be memorable
.
When we settled at our cruising altitude, Dom pulled out a huge pile of paper. It was his personal stationery that read:
From the desk of Dom DeLuise
. Next to that there was a small caricature of him, with a gigantic grin, naturally. He told me that he wanted to send Burt a note to cheer him up since he wasn’t feeling well. He scribbled something on his letterhead and stuffed it into a matching envelope. He then shouted that he needed a delivery boy for his “air mail.” Singer and songwriter Paul Williams (another in this boys’ club) jumped up and ran over to Dom to volunteer.
They made a big production out of Paul delivering Dom’s “air mail,” saying how important this letter was, and that it had to be hand-delivered. It was so very funny, everyone was giggling.
Paul got down on his hands and knees while Dom
“knighted” him for his role of emissary and sent him on his way to “deliver de letter.” Still on his knees with Dom’s “precious cargo” in hand, Paul began to inch his way to the back of the airplane while chanting, “Hear ye, hear ye.” Everyone was in hysterics. He was taking his role as the knighted postman seriously! When he got to Burt Reynolds, he formally announced that he had an “air mail” delivery for him but proceeded to sort of toss or drop the envelope in Burt’s lap in a lackluster way. At this point, the laughter drowned out the jet engines.
Maybe the vigorous audience around him fueled Dom, because he continued to write letters to the other celebrities onboard. It was becoming mayhem throughout the cabin because “air mail” was “flying” all over the plane.
Then Dom decided that the pilots needed a letter, too, and again jotted something down. But he’d fired Paul Williams as his delivery boy—something about delivering letters to the wrong people. He proceeded to reprimand Paul, scolding, “You’re just
like the postman delivering the wrong mail to the wrong addressee.” And guess who he wanted to replace him? Me, that’s who. He shoved me off to the cockpit with a letter for the pilots after lecturing me on how to deliver his mail correctly, then pointing to the front of the airplane and instructing me: “That’s where the pilots are.” (Ok, I’m blond but still!) When I got inside the cockpit, I opened the letter for the pilots. It read: “Do you know the way to Tampa Bay?” We all cracked up because we were in fact headed to Tampa Bay.
The comedy sketch continued as we flew across the entire country. As the mail wound down, Dom found new ways to keep us entertained. He came up to the galley where we had balls of butter out in a bowl and said, “Yum, butterballs!” He popped one into his mouth—without the help of bread or water, just a giant ball of fat—then he looked at us for a reaction and with a hearty laugh meandered back to his seat. He was constantly “on,” and never has five working hours gone by so quickly. Other than
Burt not feeling well, this charter was one of my favorites.
SYLVESTER STALLONE
We were all thrilled to find out Sylvester Stallone was one our passengers, but we had one flight attendant who was especially excited. This woman was so over-the-top exuberant over Sly I thought she might start hyperventilating. She was so ridiculously star-struck I wanted to slap her. Seriously, she was driving us all nuts.
When Rocky Balboa swaggered into the cabin, in all his gorgeousness, we kind of saw where she was coming from. He was extremely handsome, buff, and seriously sexy. If you looked into his eyes (which turned out to be a rare occasion), you were frozen; his eyes are the epitome of being “lost in those eyes.” And when he spoke in that distinct mesmerizing voice, I was almost ready to jump on the loony flight attendant’s bandwagon.
I was really expecting some kind of Rambo persona, like
he would save the airplane and all of us in it if the flight went down. But after just a few moments, the bottom fell out of the airplane and the air out of my lungs—I very quickly realized he didn’t give a hoot about anyone but himself. He didn’t acknowledge anybody, passenger or crewmember, and he never made eye contact with anyone. The only time I saw his eyes was when he first boarded the aircraft. He rarely spoke and when he did, he would ask for something in as few words as possible. His tone was flat and cold, like it was an effort for him to move his lips or his head for that matter. He said what he wanted and that was that: we were dismissed, like we were the help or something. Okay, we were, but still. It seemed like he felt as if he had the whole airplane to himself, like he was traveling alone (which he wasn’t), like he was the king of this flight and everyone else were his subjects, or like he owned the airplane (which he didn’t). I was really surprised because he’s such a good-looking man and plays “Joe hero” type of characters, but in real life he
was exactly the opposite.
Thank goodness, Miss Loony Flight Attendant had him in her section (a gift from me) and gushed over him repulsively. I kept my distance. I did learn that preconceived notions have no place in this business. Makes you wonder how many other erroneous mental pictures we have in life. Forgetting rules and regulations, Miss Loony asked for Sly’s autograph and was never invited back because of it.
GOLDIE HAWN
Some of my flights on Regent Air were noisy and rowdy, especially at night. The passengers would be drinking and partying, chitchatting with one another and excited to meet another celebrity or person of interest. It was entertaining to watch the dynamics: who thought they were better than another, and who wouldn’t be caught dead talking to whom.
The bar/galley area was the core of all the entertainment.
If a passenger was in one of the three seats in this section, sleep would prove difficult if not impossible, and privacy was out of the question.
Goldie Hawn was a last-minute addition on a Regent Air flight. The lovable, comedic star is usually cast as the typical “dumb blonde.” She’s certainly anything but. However, she’s always played it to a “T”—remember
Laugh-In
? Always a huge, silly grin upon her face, many people were enamored with Goldie, especially television and film producers who knew she could bring in the male viewers on variety shows that were all the rage in the eighties. She then moved on to critical acclaim as a movie actor and a respected producer. Her political and personal beliefs have also made her a unique soul and someone most women admire—if nothing else, out of jealousy over her twenty-five plus year romance with Kurt Russell! And, of course, she is mother to Kate and Oliver Hudson.
The plane was at capacity, except for one seat right next
to the bar, and I could tell this flight was going to be a perpetual party across the Great Plains. Goldie was late and the last passenger to come aboard. When she did turn the corner from the stairs into the cabin, immediately everyone became calm and quiet, which I would have thought was bloody impossible with that crowd. The other passengers were looking at her in awe and admiration. You could tell they were filled with intrigue and curiosity. Of course the only seat left was that one in the middle of the “war zone.”
