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You get a unique perspective on flight crews, especially U.S.-based American Airline flight crews, when you spend five months sharing a hotel with them. A few observations:
1) They drink a lot. It is normal to see pilots drinking a beer breakfast after arriving on the overnight Miami to Santa Cruz flight. Let's hope they don't do the round trip. Last week, the flight attendants and pilots of one crew plopped down in the restaurant and sucked down capirinhas for a solid five hours. The party tailspinned when one raspy-voiced stewardess started complaining about how her pilot insisted on flying in foul weather. "I don't care about his life, but he's flying me as well," said the woman who reminded me of someone you might have seen (or smelled) at a Phillies game at Vet Stadium. Her flippancy was chastised by a co-worker and everyone dispersed. Some of the better drinkers later converged by the pool for another few hours of drinking.
2) They talk about sex a lot. Sex with each other, sex with prostitutes, sex with passengers. And they speak loudly (that's how I am able to report this). This morning a pilot -- not sure which airline he was from -- was talking about how his regular Santa Cruz hooker tried to get him to finish quickly so she could move on. A month or two ago, I overheard two pilots discussing their fondness for "golden showers." One said his wife indulged him. I'm not sure how to read the other's giggles.
3) They take advantage of the down time here in Santa Cruz by getting cheap plastic surgery. Those puffy eyes you see on your flight crew could be the result of spending the previous night drinking and having sex OR could be the work of a Bolivian botox doc. The availability of plastic surgery is another subject they talk about quite openly in the halls of Los Tajibos, probably under the assumption that there aren't many English-speakers around. I was in line at the reception last week and an American Airlines stewardess in uniform begged her colleague to not ask why she was wearing sunglasses inside. She later admitted she had dashed out earlier that morning to have a little ass fat pumped into her crow's feet. Can ya' blame her?