Trying to explain the job

Most people go to work at the same place every day, and work with the same people every day. They do this from Monday to Friday, with vacations and some holidays off. In a typical person’s tenure at one company, they may work with dozens of, maybe even a hundred, people. Over time, you get to know those people very well.

Pilots (and to a degree, flight attendants) at a major airline go to work on Day 1 of a trip, which might begin on any day of the week. That trip will end on Day X, which will also be any day of the week. We won’t likely know which day is which day, nor will we care (unless it’s payday). Our currency isn’t the name of the days, it’s “how many days am I off” or “how many days will I be gone.” For years, the odds are high that we will work with someone we have never met, and at the end of the trip, there is a decent chance we will never fly with or see that person again. Ever.

What most people learn about their co-workers over years we have a few days to do. You’d be shocked at how well two people can get to know each other when they are locked in a space the size of a telephone booth for three or four or five days. This forced proximity factors in airline hiring, as each interviewer considers whether the applicant before them is someone the interviewer would want to spend those several days with while in that small space, because when the experience is unpleasant, the effect is magnified. Throw in bad weather, delays, and the fact that one of you might have a spouse with a car that won’t start, or a kid with the flu, and the no-fun factor can exceed the capacity of the gauge. Add to all this living out of a suitcase that has to be unpacked and repacked every day.

And yet, I know exactly how that stranger is going to do his or her job, and they know the same about me. I can’t tell you how good their landings will be, or how smooth their rotation, and I have no idea if they will have a “radio voice” in addition to their normal voice. But I know that certain things will occur a certain way at certain times, and they have the same expectation. Deviations from one pilot to another are rarely more than minor. And yes, the radio voice is really a thing.

Further, once we get to the airport, we won't actually report to anyone, we don't have to clock in or out, our boss will likely have no idea who we are, and in a week, we may not remember each other’s names. Even so, some co-workers will be unforgettable, for good reasons and bad. I will fly with thousands of pilots over the course of my career, and tens of thousands of flight attendants. Some will be one-and-dones, and others will become close friends. In my time based in Newark, I will go out of my way to fly with a handful, and I definitely look forward to those trips. And there are a few I will avoid like a dog avoids the vet.

Oddly enough, some of my best friends in the pilot profession are folks I never actually flew with, but were people I spent time getting to know in the crew lounge, bellyaching about the latest dumb company decision (all of them) or senseless policy change (again, all of them) or whether we employees could do a better job of running the company (better believe it). Strange is that.

My friends and family often can't fathom my lifestyle, what with waking up in a different city or state or country every day, frequently in a different time zone, occasionally with no earthly idea where I am. I have no way to know my schedule more than six weeks out, I can't tell you what holidays I'll be home for, and when I am home, the last thing I want to do is eat in another restaurant. In fact, never setting foot in a restaurant or eating a premade airport sandwich wrapped in clear plastic have become my top goals in retirement. I can almost never tell you what day of the week it is, my vacations will never match up with yours, and when I call in sick for one day, it's actually for three or four, even if I only needed one day. Twice a year, the government assigns a doctor to put his hand in a place I'd really rather it not be in order to determine my fitness for duty. If that isn’t enough, I get to get in the simulator every nine months for training and a checkride to make sure I’m still up to snuff. A bad day can cause a hard-earned career to unravel quickly . My family simply asks that I be home for birthday parties, school plays, and dance recitals. Anything else is gravy.

And I wouldn't have it any other way. Except for the medical exams. I could do without those. And I’m not a huge fan of ties and uniform hats. But I don't need a desk, I don’t have to worry about office politics, and I don’t have to put a signature or away message in my email. In fact, when it comes to email, I can (and do) ignore most of it.

But I’m also in charge of a multimillion-dollar machine with cargo that might be worth more than the airplane, along with close to 200 lives, including my own. I’ve learned to sleep when I’m tired; eat when I’m hungry; and never turn down extra fuel, a bit more runway, or a final stop in the restroom. I’ve been scared and I’ve been lucky. That suitcase? I can live out of it for months. I’m so experienced at packing that I can be ready to go on vacation in less than 10 minutes, 20 tops. But unless you’ve been fortunate enough to share this particular lifestyle, I don’t have the words to make it all make sense or come to life. And that’s too bad, because it’s like nothing you can imagine. Ask me how I know this.