I have been a flight attendant for one year now. During that time, I have seen a total of 73 performances where a touring theater company of The Lion King decided to “spontaneously” burst into song and belt out the opening number from their show. The “Circle of Life” lasts for six minutes. In total, I have listened to that one song for over seven hours of my life.
So please, for one fucking flight, don’t break into song. I spend all day at 30,000 feet handing mini bottles of Sutter Home moscato to flu-infected dough-piles in Tommy Bahama shirts. I have enough stress in my life. I don’t come to your work and make everyone in the theater fasten their seat belts.
I know theaters don’t have seat belts, chill out.
I do not need, nor do I want, your help calming down passengers on our aircrafts. People much smarter than any of us were paid millions of dollars to carefully design a contingency plan in case of a delay. Despite what those Huffington Post write-ups tell you, the people on the airplane do not find those deafening musical numbers enjoyable.
We HAVE The Lion King on DVD. If our flight experiences a delay, we will gladly show it for zero charge. We encourage passengers to utilize their headphones so that loud noises, like the noise a horde of attention-starved musical theater actors makes when it decides to take passenger management into its own hands, won’t bother them.
Civilians have only seen the few videos posted on YouTube, which unfortunately make these events seem whimsical and effervescent. Just because people pay you to sing does not mean you have that right to thrust it upon us. Not to mention that the majority of these offenders are NOT Broadway-caliber touring companies. More often than not, their singing sounds like more-pleasant screaming. I haven’t even mentioned international flights. You haven’t experienced true pain until you’ve had your ear drums beaten to death by thirty Aryan thespians singing “Der Kreis Des Lebens.”
And to these presumptuous showboaters who think it’s fine to start belting when no one asked for it: Is your narcissism so pathological that you’re willing to disregard the comfort of others? Instead of food and water does your body subsist on applause? If you stop singing for more than five minutes, will you die? Or do you simply not know that other people exist? Please, I am legitimately interested in the answers.
Our planes fly far up in the heavens, but I have never felt closer to hell.