Al in all, it’s just another brick in the wall.
Source at @JetBlue just sent this to me. Male flight attendants with stubble in dresses.
It’s real and it’s out of control.
Apparently passengers are pissed off, and between this and the BLM nonsense at JFK, pilots are ready for a job action. pic.twitter.com/U3zOeFH4OK
— John Cardillo (@johncardillo) July 15, 2021
The “Woke” and Transgender movements are helping to destroy the country and it just might help to damage Jet Blue.
The airline now allegedly allows male flight attendants to dress up as women.
Jet Blue Airlines, which did announce that they were going to reinvent what it’s like to fly ‘coach,’ appears to have caved to suspected pressure that presumed gay or transgender men have asked to dress like female flight attendants.
Ironically, one of their slogans is ‘Inspiring Humanity.’
What the hell, why the fuck not. Although I do have to wonder if, given the guy in the pic’s overall lumberjack-ish appearance, he really is a mentally-derailed Gender Negotiable type intent on inflicting his degeneracy on Jet Blue and all who sail in her, or instead just some poor male model desperate enough for work to hire himself out to JB and publicly beclown himself in such spectacular fashion.
I have a good friend who used to hang around the H-D shop a lot back in the Aulden Thymes, fella we all used to call Franky Load In The Pants for reasons I shan’t specify right now (trust me, it’s hilarious), who flies 7-7-7’s for Jet Blue nowadays. I’ll have to inquire next time I see him what his thoughts are on this. I can readily imagine, knowing him as I do, but seeing him express himself on this issue is bound to be a real scream.
Then again, maybe I should just leave well enough alone. Frankie has always been known as quite the practical joker, see. He once got suspended when he was flying twin-turboprop puddlejumpers for USAir some years back, for strategically placing several of those plastic fast-food packs of Texas Pete under a toilet seat in the Ladies’ of the USAir office, arranging them in such a way that they’d burst and squirt all over the victim’s legs when sat upon…or so he thought. To Frank’s horror, a burly bull-dagger av-mech went in to take a whiz (standing up, I’m sure) whilst he was standing in the office jawboning with a few fellow USAir employees, all of them just loitering around waiting to see what would end up happening.
What ended up happening: Miz Muscledyke plopped her big, granite-muscled ass heavily down and immediately got herself an agonizing Texas Pete snootch-bath. She was extremely irate about this, because good lord who wouldn’t be. Having one’s delicate naughty parts unexpectedly doused with fire-liquid would sorely tax anybody’s sense of humor, a trait with which angry flatrockers aren’t noted for being overmuch blessed in the first place.
Frank later said the second he heard said man-hater’s throaty, enraged bellows offering perfectly credible vows of swift and deadly vengeance, he ran out the door and away as if he had a no-shit T- Rex on his heels, which in a sense he damned sure did. The offended ladyman knew quite well who was responsible for the painful hot-sauce douche; all the evidence anybody who knew him would ever have needed to identify the culprit was the presence nearby of Frank and a crew of several others standing around, smirking and sniggering each time some poor dame walked even somewhat close to the little goils’ room.
The victim reported Frank’s ass to Higher with a quickness, and said ass very nearly got canned over it. Instead, the airline let him off with a month at leisure sans pay and a black mark on his Permanent Record, to the surprise of one and all. Not long after the Texas Pete incident—plus an unfortunately timed followup episode involving a belly cargo-door that Frank neglected to properly secure, which resulted in a barrage of suitcases and loose freight all over the end of the runway and neighboring warehouse roofs once the aircraft was wheels-up and climbing to cruise altitude—it was up, up, and away to Jet Blue for Pranky Franky, where near as I can determine he seems to have refrained from further actionable mischief. So far.
So yeah, as a preventive measure to assist him in staying out of trouble with his current employers and colleagues, I believe I’ll just keep my trap shut about this revoltin’ development. If Frankie Load has any opinions on it, he can share them with me on his own hook, without any prompting from me. I’m no troublemaker, nosirree.
Update! I should probably point out, in Frank’s defense, that he is actually a very talented and conscientious pilot, having been in the cockpit of one type of aircraft or another ever since he was but a young chap. Frank’s dad was a pilot also, and started teaching his son early on. Frank himself owns a Cessna 172 and has for years, spending a tremendous amount of time slipping the surly bonds both professionally and recreationally. I’ve never flown with him myself, but Goose has and says he’s a very skilled pilot, against all the expectations one might reasonably form from the above tale. My brother, a licensed, multiengine and IFR-rated flight instructor and a natural talent himself, also commends Frank as being one of those people who has that natural gift for it that distinguishes the true pilot from the run-of-the-mill hackabouts who will most likely end up dead someday because they ran out of gas. Frank’s just a goof, that’s all.