Katie
Established Member
- Joined
- Sep 21, 2009
- Posts
- 1,978
On Saturday at about 2pm, Mr Katie and I deserted Little Miss, umm, left her with doting grandparents at a family party and drove to BNE airport. We had a 3:30 flight to SYD to join the fun of the mid-year Xmas in July do. Dropped the car off, asked the nice man to make sure it was cleaned and ready for our return in under 24hrs, and we walked to the QF security area.
I was asked if we had any aerosols; I had deodorant in my usual LAG bag and had thrown in a small can of anti-static spray to use that evening so that my frock would not cling unbecomingly to my legs. The first security agent told me that the can would need to be inspected. I went though the scanner, collected my hand luggage and stood at the end of the conveyor belt. I watched another security agent collect the can, take it to the podium to the right of the end of the conveyor, and put it in the cupboard. I continued to stand and wait, smiling oddly at the agents as they went past me. Eventually the man who took the can away asked me if I was right. i said I was waiting for the inspection of my can. He said that it had been surrendered; any items that take a sharp left after Xray are surrendered. I explained that I had been informed that the can wiuld be inspected before determining whether it warranted surrender.
Ultimately, as the static spray is sprayed on clothing, not the body, it is not allowed through.
I wonder if that security agent has worn stockings frequently? I would suggest that spraying that anti-static spray over my stockings is not that far removed from spraying it on my skin. Meanwhile, Mr Katie has been through his random explosive test, and gone upstairs to the newsagent to check for exciting reading materials on offer.
We ran into a friend; a quick chat and catchup, and finally into the J Lounge with a flash of our QFF cards.
We checked in and got our boarding passes. My plans for an Op Up were dashed! Mr Katie in J, and me in Y; 2F and 5C to be precise. Maybe I should have changed names when we married. It seems QF's systems would recognise us as a family if I had.
Some nibbly bits, some allegedly sparkling stuff, and it was time to board. Not sure if PB worked, the boarding moshpit started before an announcement could be made (we were at gate 21 & another announcement was being made). Into our special queue, and on board quickly. No magic beep. Mr Katie settled into 2D; it seems I shouldn't select a window seat for him and Mr 2D happily took the window seat. I settled into 5C and hoped 5B would remain free. A gentleman sat in 5A, but happy days! 5B was free! 5E was as well, but 4 was full full full.
The next little while was filled with takeoff administrivia. No gate-to-gate IFE on this plane, so crosswords for me while I waited to be able to tunrn my iPad on.
Finally, the trolley made its way to the front of Y. The FAs had a discussion, the one walking forward had food, the one walking backward had no food. So they decided the front-walking one would offer food while the back-walking one would offer beverages. Afternoon tea was orange and choc chip mini cookies.
I was about the first person asked which beverage I would like. I asked for tea, with milk. The FA poured the first cup of tea from the pot and went to place it on my tray table. The cup was almost on the tray. Something happened. Not turbulence. Not a bump. I still don't know what.
But the next thing I knew, the contents of the cup were in my lap. And it was hot. Tea on my legs, searing through my jeans. How I didn't start cursing and swearing I don't know. I guess it was the f*€+ing shock.
I put my iPad on 5B, someone took off my seat belt, the FAs barrelled the trolley up to the J galley, walking past Mr Katie happily oblivious in 2D. The FA grabbed towels and water and started wetting them, and colling down my jeans. And apologising profusely. The other Y FA started getting some soda water for my white shirt which was splattered with brown tea stains. After a bit, a gentleman emerged from the J loo, and I was able to get in there, stocked up with cold towels, ice, and soda water.
I was able to half disrobe to soothe the burns direcrly with the cold towels and ice, without accidentally setting off the call button (which has been a problem for me at other times in the close confines of these loos). I waddled back to my seat, passing Mr Katie. He offered me his J dessert. I muttered something choice. Sugar would not soothe me.
I spent the rest of the flight with wet J hand towel down my jeans, and on top of them. The FA checked if my seat pad needed to be replaced, but my jeans and lap caught most of it. The J FA (CSM? He wasn't the team leader) filled out the incident report & got my details, and boarding pass. The FA who'd accidentally knocked the cup kept coming by, apologising, and offering to re-wet the towels. Towards the end of the flight, the FA also insisted onpersonally giving me money for dry cleaning my clothes, even though they knew QF would pay for it, as they said it was the worst day of their lives.
The J FA told me that the duty manager would meet us in SYD & suggested it would be a good idea to see a doctor. As we taxied, I messaged munitalP to inform him we would definitely be arriving late to the do.
Luke was the duty manager, and met me at the door of the aircraft. Mr Katie didn't realise this was happening, and was practially already in the terminal waiting for me to disembark. Lots of chat, and me being somewhat indecisive (touch of shock perhaps). I eventually decided to go to a doctor; Luke said a hospital would take ages in Sydney on a Sat night. We went to his office, and he called Maroubra med centre (the Mascot one closes at 5pm on Sat). Waiting time would be about 30mins. Luke asked when we returning to BNE or if this was home. I said we were flying back Sunday at lunchtime, Mr Katie in J, me in Y. Luke's response "Well, we'll sort that out then".
He'd also spotted the Gold tag on my wheelie bag at some point & said something about my status. i said it was an old tag, and I was actually Emerald. Oops, Platinum.
After making phone calls & upgrading me to sit next to Mr Latie on the way home, Luke presented me with three cab charge vouchers - to get to the medical centre, from the centre to the hotel, and from the hotel back to the airport on Sunday. He said QF would pay for dry cleaning at the hotel/at home, and he would let customer care know of my impending claim. He gave me his card, with the medical centre address written on the back (luckily, as the cabbie didn't know where to go).
We went to the cab rank, and went to the medical centre. Somewhat disturbed by the signs stating that the centre staff would abide no rude or aggressive persons in the centre, I was happy when I was shown to a treatment room. 6pmish was a tad early for aggressive people it seems, or the rainy night kept them away.
The nurse in the treatment room took one look at my legs and asked for a doctor to inspect before she did anything. To put it as delicately as possible, the inner seams of my jeans had retained the most heat, and that was where I had some burns and blistering. The doctor came fairly quickly, and said they were first degree burns, some blistering, some gel and dressing to be applied and kept dry (there goes any plans for a relaxing bath at the Hoilton. Not too sure when I would have had time for it, but I was hoping!!).
Eventually dressings were applied, and I put my PJ bottoms in rather than my wet jeans. The taxi took agesto get there & we eventually got to the Hilton after 7pm.
I was impressed that the Hilton staff did not blink at me walking in with a very awkward gait (think: cowboy getting out of saddle after 5 straight weeks in it) and pink leopard print PJ pants. The stained t-shirt was hidden by my jumper. We went straight up to our room, got changed, and went to find the AFF party. And sent my clothes for dry-cleaning. So we didn't wait any longer, war paint was not applied. (Mr Katie was chuffed to have win a lucky door prize!! Thanks!)
Thanks very much to Qantas and staff for their reponse to this total accident.
I've had the burns checked again today & confirmed they are superficial and need some basic care.
Qantas customer care called today to check how I was going, and as I was in the middle of buying some plaster for new dressings, they offered for me to claim payment for the plaster as well as the dry cleaning.
I was asked if we had any aerosols; I had deodorant in my usual LAG bag and had thrown in a small can of anti-static spray to use that evening so that my frock would not cling unbecomingly to my legs. The first security agent told me that the can would need to be inspected. I went though the scanner, collected my hand luggage and stood at the end of the conveyor belt. I watched another security agent collect the can, take it to the podium to the right of the end of the conveyor, and put it in the cupboard. I continued to stand and wait, smiling oddly at the agents as they went past me. Eventually the man who took the can away asked me if I was right. i said I was waiting for the inspection of my can. He said that it had been surrendered; any items that take a sharp left after Xray are surrendered. I explained that I had been informed that the can wiuld be inspected before determining whether it warranted surrender.
Ultimately, as the static spray is sprayed on clothing, not the body, it is not allowed through.
I wonder if that security agent has worn stockings frequently? I would suggest that spraying that anti-static spray over my stockings is not that far removed from spraying it on my skin. Meanwhile, Mr Katie has been through his random explosive test, and gone upstairs to the newsagent to check for exciting reading materials on offer.
We ran into a friend; a quick chat and catchup, and finally into the J Lounge with a flash of our QFF cards.
We checked in and got our boarding passes. My plans for an Op Up were dashed! Mr Katie in J, and me in Y; 2F and 5C to be precise. Maybe I should have changed names when we married. It seems QF's systems would recognise us as a family if I had.
Some nibbly bits, some allegedly sparkling stuff, and it was time to board. Not sure if PB worked, the boarding moshpit started before an announcement could be made (we were at gate 21 & another announcement was being made). Into our special queue, and on board quickly. No magic beep. Mr Katie settled into 2D; it seems I shouldn't select a window seat for him and Mr 2D happily took the window seat. I settled into 5C and hoped 5B would remain free. A gentleman sat in 5A, but happy days! 5B was free! 5E was as well, but 4 was full full full.
The next little while was filled with takeoff administrivia. No gate-to-gate IFE on this plane, so crosswords for me while I waited to be able to tunrn my iPad on.
Finally, the trolley made its way to the front of Y. The FAs had a discussion, the one walking forward had food, the one walking backward had no food. So they decided the front-walking one would offer food while the back-walking one would offer beverages. Afternoon tea was orange and choc chip mini cookies.
I was about the first person asked which beverage I would like. I asked for tea, with milk. The FA poured the first cup of tea from the pot and went to place it on my tray table. The cup was almost on the tray. Something happened. Not turbulence. Not a bump. I still don't know what.
But the next thing I knew, the contents of the cup were in my lap. And it was hot. Tea on my legs, searing through my jeans. How I didn't start cursing and swearing I don't know. I guess it was the f*€+ing shock.
I put my iPad on 5B, someone took off my seat belt, the FAs barrelled the trolley up to the J galley, walking past Mr Katie happily oblivious in 2D. The FA grabbed towels and water and started wetting them, and colling down my jeans. And apologising profusely. The other Y FA started getting some soda water for my white shirt which was splattered with brown tea stains. After a bit, a gentleman emerged from the J loo, and I was able to get in there, stocked up with cold towels, ice, and soda water.
I was able to half disrobe to soothe the burns direcrly with the cold towels and ice, without accidentally setting off the call button (which has been a problem for me at other times in the close confines of these loos). I waddled back to my seat, passing Mr Katie. He offered me his J dessert. I muttered something choice. Sugar would not soothe me.
I spent the rest of the flight with wet J hand towel down my jeans, and on top of them. The FA checked if my seat pad needed to be replaced, but my jeans and lap caught most of it. The J FA (CSM? He wasn't the team leader) filled out the incident report & got my details, and boarding pass. The FA who'd accidentally knocked the cup kept coming by, apologising, and offering to re-wet the towels. Towards the end of the flight, the FA also insisted onpersonally giving me money for dry cleaning my clothes, even though they knew QF would pay for it, as they said it was the worst day of their lives.
The J FA told me that the duty manager would meet us in SYD & suggested it would be a good idea to see a doctor. As we taxied, I messaged munitalP to inform him we would definitely be arriving late to the do.
Luke was the duty manager, and met me at the door of the aircraft. Mr Katie didn't realise this was happening, and was practially already in the terminal waiting for me to disembark. Lots of chat, and me being somewhat indecisive (touch of shock perhaps). I eventually decided to go to a doctor; Luke said a hospital would take ages in Sydney on a Sat night. We went to his office, and he called Maroubra med centre (the Mascot one closes at 5pm on Sat). Waiting time would be about 30mins. Luke asked when we returning to BNE or if this was home. I said we were flying back Sunday at lunchtime, Mr Katie in J, me in Y. Luke's response "Well, we'll sort that out then".
He'd also spotted the Gold tag on my wheelie bag at some point & said something about my status. i said it was an old tag, and I was actually Emerald. Oops, Platinum.
After making phone calls & upgrading me to sit next to Mr Latie on the way home, Luke presented me with three cab charge vouchers - to get to the medical centre, from the centre to the hotel, and from the hotel back to the airport on Sunday. He said QF would pay for dry cleaning at the hotel/at home, and he would let customer care know of my impending claim. He gave me his card, with the medical centre address written on the back (luckily, as the cabbie didn't know where to go).
We went to the cab rank, and went to the medical centre. Somewhat disturbed by the signs stating that the centre staff would abide no rude or aggressive persons in the centre, I was happy when I was shown to a treatment room. 6pmish was a tad early for aggressive people it seems, or the rainy night kept them away.
The nurse in the treatment room took one look at my legs and asked for a doctor to inspect before she did anything. To put it as delicately as possible, the inner seams of my jeans had retained the most heat, and that was where I had some burns and blistering. The doctor came fairly quickly, and said they were first degree burns, some blistering, some gel and dressing to be applied and kept dry (there goes any plans for a relaxing bath at the Hoilton. Not too sure when I would have had time for it, but I was hoping!!).
Eventually dressings were applied, and I put my PJ bottoms in rather than my wet jeans. The taxi took agesto get there & we eventually got to the Hilton after 7pm.
I was impressed that the Hilton staff did not blink at me walking in with a very awkward gait (think: cowboy getting out of saddle after 5 straight weeks in it) and pink leopard print PJ pants. The stained t-shirt was hidden by my jumper. We went straight up to our room, got changed, and went to find the AFF party. And sent my clothes for dry-cleaning. So we didn't wait any longer, war paint was not applied. (Mr Katie was chuffed to have win a lucky door prize!! Thanks!)
Thanks very much to Qantas and staff for their reponse to this total accident.
I've had the burns checked again today & confirmed they are superficial and need some basic care.
Qantas customer care called today to check how I was going, and as I was in the middle of buying some plaster for new dressings, they offered for me to claim payment for the plaster as well as the dry cleaning.
)
