Praha: The Story Behind the Wedding Gift

By Sabra Hunter

Airline employee Sābra Hunter, along with one of her co-workers, are off again . . . this time to Prague—or Praha, as the locals call it, to purchase one (or two) of the world-famous Bohemian crystal vases as a special wedding gift for a family friend.

The trip doesn't go as planned, however. Non-Rev issues, weather delays, and airline strikes combine to impact an already too-short expedition.

Come join Sābra on this adventure. Savor the sights, the history, as well as traditional Czech foods along with her. By the time you finish reading this travel novella, you will want to go there and buy a vase for yourself. Just be sure to check the weather first.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sabra Hunter
• Release date: Apr 26, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370922901

Book preview

Introduction

Throughout life we are surrounded by groups of one sort or another, from clubs to—in their most basic element—gangs. After all, it’s human nature to want to be a part of something bigger than the individual. College years often involve joining sororities or fraternities, inclusive groups that cement lifelong friendships. In the workplace there are select nation-wide affiliations where not just internal friendships are forged, but also a mutual bond of professional cooperation and assistance that often endure long after employment has ended—the Fraternal Order of Police comes to mind, with some 325,000 active members today. Firefighters’ Leatherhead organization is another, with their long-standing history of camaraderie while performing community service. Even the fictional character Fred Flintstone belonged to the Royal Order of Water Buffalos Lodge.

But you won’t find much of this among the front-line troops of today’s airline industry. The prevalent attitude among roughly half of all U.S. airline personnel is every man for himself and to hell with our fellow employees.

This anti-fellowship is on full display when it comes to using one of aviation employee’s most cherished job perks: our travel benefits. Not all employees use the discounted travel opportunities that are bestowed upon us with employment, and it is this divide of travelers versus non-travelers that, if you look closely enough, is on full display at any airline gate in any airport on any given day.

Airline staff who do travel must adhere to several rules, each unique to the employing carrier. But one universal rule applies to all of us: never cause a problem in public, and never question decisions of those in charge. Infractions bring severe penalties, including loss of travel privileges. Be seen and not heard, these are our orders.

For standby travelers, the gate agent is God. Must I say it again? Gate agents are of two camps: those who travel and those who don’t. For the most part we all treat our traveling coworkers according to our own personal worldview. There are exceptions, of course, but among those who don’t travel the vast majority could care less if standby airline families sit in close proximity to one another when assigning seats, or even near their young children at all. Some, in fact, take malicious delight in seating 'Non-Rev's' (a misnomer if ever there was one, since we haven’t traveled free since before deregulation) in the back row of the airplane directly in front of the toilet. Though to hear them tell it, they can’t get families together because they simply don’t have the time.

For years we employees were the only passengers in the entire gate wearing company mandated 'proper attire,' which stipulated—same as in upscale restaurants—that men wear a tie. I can still remember purchasing new 'airplane shoes' for my kids every year just for the privilege of standing alongside the gum-popping, bedraggled-looking public in their torn jeans and dirty sneakers, feeling conspicuous as we trailed onboard behind them. It wasn’t until nearly all revenue passengers on the planet came to spot us in the crowd that U.S. airlines’ corporate management caught on (obviously, they’re not traveling standby!) and changed the dress code to 'business casual.' Nowadays I can wear jeans on a plane, but I still feel self-conscious. It’s a hangover from the past, I know, but I can’t help it. I keep waiting for the gate agent to call me forward to tell me to go change into something nice.

Space available means that when rank and file airline employees travel, it’s on a standby basis. There are ways to elevate our standby priority, but these perks are limited to a set number per year so we don’t use them carelessly. Nowadays, thankfully, modern technology has alleviated much of our pre-flight standby jitters, because we can now monitor our flight’s standby list from a seat in the gate without having to bite our nails in anxiety while waiting for our names to be called. Thank God, the days of bothering the busy gate agent for updates—a move that can sometimes guarantee you a crappy seat in the back, especially if the gate agent is one of those non-fliers—are gone.

Those of us working in the airline industry who do travel have learned to choose our vacation dates carefully, and to watch flight patterns well in advance. Weather is always a factor, but so are national holidays. And let us not forget partner airlines’ increasingly frequent strikes. Now that most U.S. airlines have gone global by partnering with foreign carriers, international travelers can be profoundly impacted by overseas union shenanigans. Winter months are better for traveling than summer, mid-week as opposed to weekend—basically whenever the rest of the world stays home is when it bodes well for us to claim an empty seat. Above all else, we have learned to be prepared for the unexpected. We have to be, because anything can happen. At any time.

- 1 -

The wedding invitation from my son’s best friend arrived early last June. The wedding was to take place the end of August.

I knew it, my son announced, holding the open invitation up in the air. He fell like an old oak tree the minute he met her.

My husband, sitting on the far side of the room quietly working a crossword puzzle, nodded in agreement. She isn’t pregnant, is she?

I cracked up laughing. Oh come on! Things have changed a lot since the sixties.

My son didn’t have any idea of what we were talking about, which explained his puzzled look. What’s the big deal? They’re both in their late twenties. Once they decided to hitch, why wait? Besides they sent out a ‘we’re engaged’ photo months ago.

I’m sure most people will just give them money, I said, changing the subject. I don’t think we should do that. After all, they both make good salaries. Wouldn’t it be nicer to give them something memorable instead? I know! We should give them a vase like the one we have. Our son’s wedding was coming up at the end of the year as well, which gave me another idea. I should buy two vases while I’m at it. One for both weddings.

My husband tore himself away from his crossword and looked up with a glazed expression. Vases? Where did you get ours again?

Prague.

He blinked. I had his attention now. You’re going to fly all the way to Czechoslovakia to buy them a vase? Can’t you just buy one off of eBay or something?

"It’s the Czech Republic now, dear . . . but to answer your question: yes to Prague, no to eBay. Short little trips like this are one of the perks of my job, remember? Why else would I still be working in this crazy business? Besides, it’s not like I haven’t been there before. It’ll be easy. I’ll sleep on the way over so I can hit the ground running. I’ll head straight to the hotel, check-in, walk to Old Town, buy the vases, then go back to the hotel and go to bed. I’ll fly home the next day."

Yeah, I’ve heard that before, my husband grumbled. Join the airlines and fly free. When will you learn it ain’t what it used to be? For emphasis, he added, It would be easier to just write ‘em a check for five hundred bucks.

"Five-hundred dollars? How did you come up with that figure? It won’t cost anywhere near that much." Or would it, I wondered? I ran through a quick mental calculation of expenses: pass fee, one night hotel, transportation between the airport and town, meals . . . 

"I have an idea: I’ll see if Levida wants to come along, that way we can split the hotel fee. Now that she’s retired, she’ll probably jump at the chance to do a quickie turn-around for the fun of it. Especially since I’m pretty sure she’s never been there before."

Knock yourself out, said my hubby, returning to his crossword.

Why don’t you come too?

He shook his head. Not a chance. Every time I step inside that airport things turn to crap. The flight can have a hundred seats open when I leave the house, but by the time I get to the gate they’re calling for volunteers because they’ve managed to oversell the damn thing by at least ten people. Your company has no control of their inventory.

I had to agree with him in spite of myself because I’ve witnessed that same scenario time and time again in recent years. They want us to buy our tickets like everyone else.

Yet we can never seem to find those cheap fares like everyone else.

"I know. But in another couple of weeks all the college kids will have returned to school. And besides, non-Revs have been getting out on flights this summer. I know because I clear plenty of them. All I need is a three day weekend a couple of weeks from now and some good weather."

The reason you’ve been able to clear so many standbys this summer is because most sane people are worried about getting murdered by terrorists in Europe.

Well Prague isn’t France. And it isn’t Belgium, or Germany. I refuse to live in so much fear that I can no longer do the things I enjoy doing.

Like I said, knock yourself out.

And so the planning began.

Levida, as expected, was ready, willing, and able to take off. Oh what perfect timing! she gushed over the phone. I could use a change of scenery before all my fall leaf raking starts up.

We’re spending just the one night, I reminded her, recalling her tendency to pack for every possible contingency. So only one wheelie.

Okay, okay, she said, laughing. I promise!, I’ll pack light. In the meantime tell me what’s so special about this vase?

"Well, for starters, it’s Czech crystal, which is world famous for its hand-cut craftsmanship. They’re gorgeous. What’s more, if you can even find them here in the states, it would only be in high-end New York stores—and at double the price." The ‘high-end’ comment caught her attention, as I knew it would.

Leaded crystal, what’s that mean exactly? she asked.

It’s the composition that makes it crystal versus just plane old glass, I began. At least that’s the way it was explained to me when I was there before. True crystal contains lead oxide; glass doesn’t. And it’s that lead oxide that makes it heavier, thicker, and softer, which enables artisans to cut it rather than engrave or laser it with a machine.

Uh huh, uh huh Levida repeated, sounding bored.

I walked over to my fireplace mantle where my prized vase sat, snapped a picture of it with my phone and then forwarded it to her. What did we do before modern technology?

Got it, Levida said a few minutes later.

See that round bottom? I asked her. "It’s at least an inch thick. This one flares up to the scalloped top edge, but they have other styles, too. Those side panels alternate between an intricate hand-cut design and strips of painted 24 ct. gold. And, on top of the gold