Just my luck, getting through TSA security takes me longer than I expected. I must remove my shoes, take all electronics out of my bag and place them, exposed, in the screening bin. And, since I wear some medical devices, I'm treated to a full pat down and tested for bomb residue.
Bingochea, on the other hand — and other flight attendants flying through Denver International — goes through an expedited TSA screening, a process that usually takes less than a minute.
Apart from the essentials like extra underwear and t-shirts, medication, and clothing, he also takes a couple trinkets with him: A pink, rubber frog that was his daughter's when she was younger always goes around the world with him, as well as his Vietnam Veteran cap, which commemorates his time as a medic in the U.S. Army during Vietnam.
In general, Bingochea doesn't pack a lunch. He'll bring some snacks with him, but he opts not to eat while he's working — it makes him sluggish — and instead budgets enough money to try the different cuisines of where he's traveling.
Captain Bob tells the crew that our flight will be two hours and two minutes, so we should arrive at the gate eight minutes early.
It's standard security on this flight, so nobody "special" — meaning people like air marshals, secret service, or federal flight deck officers, who carry weapons — will be on board, and cabin crew will have to rely on able-bodied passengers for help in an emergency.
There won't be any in-flight meals available — just snacks for purchase and beverages.
And — "thankfully" (it's usually stressful for all involved) — no live animals will be on board this flight.
Finally, Bob reminds the cabin crew to let him know if anything out of the ordinary jumps out at them during boarding.
When a passenger gets up to use the bathroom, Bingochea alerts the flight deck.
"Once the aircraft starts moving, there's always the fear of someone falling down, and we're in that position of liability if we don't let the captain know," he says.
Once the passenger exits the bathroom, Bingochea gives the flight deck the all clear to start moving.
"Communication is everything here," Bingochea says. "It has to be paramount, because, as Mr. Munoz said years ago, a series of small mistakes is the beginning of a big mistake."
During take off, he says his mind goes to a different place.
"You go through the different situations that can happen in your head," he says.
According to Bingochea, protocol for different emergency situations are embedded in flight attendants from day one of training so that, in an emergency, they don't have to think about it. "It's just there," he says.
At one point during service, Bingochea asks me how I'm feeling.
As someone who appreciates their sleep, I'm honest: "I feel exhausted," I say. "How do you feel?"
"I could go another 12 hours," he tells me.
Baffled, I ask him how this could be.
"You either want to be here or you don't," he responds. It's the people, he says, that keep him going.
It takes a certain kind of person to be energized by other people. They're what you would call extroverts. It may not be a required skill for the job, but it certainly helps in Bingochea's case.
"This job will test your skills with people. It's not for everybody," he says. Even he has bad days, he admits.
But, he says, "Coming here, you regroup and re-instill your faith in yourself and your fellow man."
And if you can't manage it? "Every time we lose somebody, there are 100 people waiting for this job," Bingochea says.
They also perform another safety check in preparation for landing.
"We always go through these silent drills in our mind so, should something happen, we're ready to take on this challenge," Bingochea says.
Final descent is also considered a "sterile period," meaning the flight deck is concentrating on landing the plane, and cabin crew are not to communicate with them during this time.
Copyright © 2022. Times Internet Limited. All rights reserved.For reprint rights. Times Syndication Service.