5 March 1998 - AIRLINE STEWARDESS
I've closed my special pet shop after just one day, as its potential was limited. I've a new job now working as an airline steward. I tell you - this must be the toughest job on earth.
We had Dick Whittington on our flight last night, and the demands he made were outrageous. He originally asked for sausages for dinner, but when they arrived he demanded the salmon, and knocked the sossies out of my hands, and into the lap of another passenger, possibly Puss In Boots.
6 March 1998 - AIRLINE STEWARDESS
Being a stewardess is awful - I have to remember so much, like the difference between pig sausages, and sausages made out of the veg. And I've got to remember how to pour fruit juice into glasses without spilling it.
What's worse is that I have to be on my feet - awake - for ninety one hours at a stretch. One time, by the end of my shift, I started to hallucinate, and accidentally called a passenger, Mr Pullen, "Mr Puffin".
7 March 1998 - AIRLINE STEWARDESS
I'm sick of being patronised by the cabin crew. Just because I'm a stewardess, they think it gives them licence to pat me on the head, and call me things like "Little one", and "The small boy".
On my last flight I made a comment about the UN's deal with Iraq over weapons inspections, and the captain and navigator just chuckled and said something like "Very good. Well done". Next time I'm going to push them over, and pull their trousers down.