The Passengers I’d Do Anything For (And One Who Wrote About It)

Maigen Thomas

08 Apr 2026 — 9 min read

You might not know it, but if you top Delta's quintessential Biscoff cookies with a squeeze of fresh lime juice, it tastes just like a key lime pie!

There are passengers we tolerate.

There are passengers we forget immediately.

There are passengers we are pleased to have onboard.

And then there are the ones we would go absolutely out of our way for.

Not because they’re the most important. Not because they're a celebrity. Not because they've got Million Miler status. Not because they’re sitting in first class. But because they make the flight feel…lighter. More human. And more fun.

Years ago, a writer named Francis Lam published an article in Gourmet about a flight attendant who made his flight unforgettable (spoiler alert: that flight attendant was me!). And this article is why I got nominated for the President's Club in my second year of flying.

I can't find any details about the President's Club that are public-facing at the moment I'm writing this, but it's an award given every year to In-Flight Service (IFS) department employees, and there's a lot of pomp and circumstance at a gala and some shiny awards are given out.

I heard from a Senior Mama that I shouldn't expect to win on merit, as "it's very political." Like, the internal politics b—s— that big companies always seem to have.

It didn't matter to me that I wouldn't win, I was just thrilled to be nominated for it. I didn't even find out why I was nominated until I called the manager of my manager's manager (my great-grand manager?). They told me the President of IFS saw an article that mentioned me and entered my name as a nominee.

Um, what?

Oh snap, it's TRUE!

I took a screenshot of the page, as Gourmet is no longer in publication. Clicking on the link before the image will take you to the page where all text is accessible.

The Vibes Began Well Before the Flight

Okay, so, here’s what actually happened.

First of all, you know I'm a pretty good time on a regular day.

On the days where I'm in the zone, rested, hydrated, moisturized: oh baby I'm a frickin' BLAST to have on a flight!

While being a flight attendant is not quite like being a showgirl, that line about "she makes her money being pretty and witty" rings true. I'm charming as fuck. Flying with me is an awesome experience. I put out the good vibes and they are returned back to me, everyone has a great flight.

My crew and I had a layover in Las Vegas, but it was just about 14 hours on the ground. That meant we had enough time to eat something, shower, relax, and get a good night's sleep before the final day of our three-day trip.

We were staying at the Sahara back in those days, and at some point before heading to the airport, I grabbed this absolutely massive Rice Krispie treat from the coffee shop in the lobby. This is not a normal sized treat. Not a dainty one. This thing was a brick. A commitment. A Las Vegas-sized block of crispy rice and marshmallow glue.

I was super hyped to eat it (let's be real, there is no such thing as a bad Rice Krispie treat) but I couldn't wash my hands on the way to the airport, and then I forgot about it when we got on board. Which, in hindsight, is insane behavior, because who forgets about a Rice Krispie treat the size of a paperback novel?

But whatever, we make it uneventfully from LAS to ATL, where we have a "sit," a chunk of several of hours to kill before our final leg of the trip, ATL to LGA.

A "sit" is a long wait between flights. Lots of folks not in the industry might call this a "layover" but that's not what it means to flight crew. Sometimes a "sit" can mean the crew is 're-routed' if there is weather or IROPS (that stands for Irregular Operations, AKA 'shit hitting the fan'). No one likes a four-hour sit in the Atlanta airport because we love predictability when we can get it, and since ATL is headquarters, that means anything goes.

I’m tired. I’ve already flown one long leg. People are out here peopling. I found a quiet gate on the A concourse to sit and read. The rest of the crew is getting food and coming to meet me, or they're in the lounge below us. And I remember the Rice Krispie treat.

Y'all, I promise you it was not cute how I attacked this massive, sticky block, but it was DELICIOUS. My jaws hurt by the time I got done mowing through it. I chugged the rest of my bottle of water, and spaced out for an hour or so before we had to head to our gate.

Now I’m on this flight. DL 18 with service from ATL to LGA. I’m in that slightly unhinged, slightly caffeinated, slightly “let’s just have fun with it” mood that happens when you’ve been in uniform too long but not long enough to be bitter. The sugar rush is creeping up on me.

The cabin’s a little sleepy. A little bit chill. It's not a full flight. You know the vibe: people are tired, a little cranky, not quite settled. It's late on a Thursday when we take off. But when we get back to New York, I'm off for two full days in the glorious June weather. I'm young, single, and broke, but ready to say "Yes!" to what life has to offer.

I'm sitting on the jumpseat, waiting for the signal to get up and move about the cabin, and my foot just will not stop shaking in a tight, frenetic back and forth; I have a bunch of energy with nowhere for it to go.

And I just decided that this flight is going to be a Great Flight. So I leaned into that extra energy. I am working the snack cart, so after we drag the both of the heavy carts up the aisle, I am by myself. I'm slinging peanuts and cookies, selling sandwiches and snack boxes. I'm chatting with each row of passengers, teasing a little, making jokes, just…bringing good energy into a space that didn’t have much of it.

And then I get to this one guy. He’s trying to decide between the peanuts and the cookies. It's a classic conundrum, and on some flights (depending on what catering put on the plane), it's a real either-or choice. We don't have enough for everyone to have everything. Sometimes we don't even have choices!

Here's the thing for this moment: I'm on my way home. What's left on the plane after this flight won't matter. We land at like, 11pm. This plane will sit overnight and then be freshly catered first thing in the morning.

Por que no los dos, if you know what I mean. Why not both?

I click through all these thoughts in an instant (remember, I am running on pure sugar at this point), so I'm like, “Okay, but what if we elevate this experience?”

Because when you’ve done this job long enough, you realize: the rules are the rules…but the vibe? That’s yours to play with. So I tell him: "Take both! If you eat them together, maybe it'll taste like a peanut butter cookie."

He laughs, his wife laughs, but I'm serious. No one is looking at me like they're going to actually do the thing.

But like...getting creative with food when you're broke as fuck in your first year as a flight attendant is just reality. I legit always had struggle meals in my suitcase: camping food, granola bars, protein bars, and ramen cups. I am not kidding. I went hungry on a few layovers and it sucks. I always have food squirreled away when I travel now.

I need to find my 2008 taxes to give y'all proof. I made about $16,000 in taxable income that year. I qualified for food stamps, but I didn't 'officially' move to NYC, and I had no idea how to go about getting those. Besides, as long as I stayed busy on flights, I could always scrounge up something to eat.

I'm looking at this guy, he's laughing and thanking me for the cookies AND the peanuts, but I just learned about something and I want to share it. I say, “Here’s what you’re gonna do. Ask the beverage cart flight attendants for a slice of lime. Squeeze the lime juice on the cookie. Trust me.”

And he looks at me like I’ve absolutely lost my mind. Which, fair. But I commit.

I’m like, “No no no, I’m serious. I’m coming back. We’re doing this.” And because I am now invested in this experiment, I go get the lime myself. We build this ridiculous little snack situation at 35,000 feet. Everyone within three rows (and it's half full, so it's like 8 people at most) is leaning in to see how this guy reacts to a whole culinary experience no one asked for.

I spear him a slice of lime from the cup (this is back in the days of fresh limes being catered, none of this powdered bullshit) and hand it to him. He squeezes the lime over the cookie. Some of the liquid even lands on the cookie. He's nervous laughing because suddenly he's the center of attention and it slips in his hand a little before he can properly squeeze it. But he gets it done. And then we wait.

This man takes a bite.

It's like a rehearsed moment that none of us knew we signed up for but there's a collective moment of holding our breath. It's the moment in Ratatouille where the fireworks start going off in Remy's brain when he mixes flavors. My mouth is watering just typing this out.

I’m watching him like I’ve just presented something to Gordon Ramsey himself. All eyes are on him.

Then his face changes. His eyes light up in recognition and pleasure.

And I’m like YES. “See?? It’s like key lime pie, right??”

He’s laughing as he nods, and I’m laughing, and then everyone's laughing, and now it’s not just a free snack, it’s a moment. At this point, I am no longer a flight attendant. I am a one-woman in-flight entertainment program. This is my stage. People are laughing. They’re watching. The energy in the cabin shifts. It’s not just a flight anymore. It’s…fun.

I remember thinking "I fucking LOVE this job."

An older couple nearby was not totally following the action. They looked confused. I think English wasn't their first language, so they were bowled over by my rapid, sugar-fueled, animated chatter. They seemed a little overwhelmed, so I tried to reassure them that it was just the sugar talking by saying "I had a Rice Krispie treat this big!" while holding my hands out to show them the size.

Yes, I did follow that up with "...and then I'm gonna crash!" which I intended to imply that I would come down from my sugar high, but...you can see how that might not be appreciated while we are currently hurtling through space and time in a pressurized metal tube, right?

The rest of the flight was easy, and we got to LaGuardia safely. And apparently, one of those passengers went home and wrote about it. Which is how I found out later that this whole chaotic, slightly unhinged, fully committed snack moment had turned into a published story.

Here's the thing I want you to know: That flight wasn’t special because of me. I mean, yes, it was a little bit because of me. But the joyful engagement worked because of them. Because the passengers were open to it.

We co-created that magical moment because they weren’t trying to be too cool to engage with a dorky flight attendant. They weren’t trying to be above it. They said yes to something a little weird and they played along. They let the moment happen. They were down for it.

Those are the passengers we’d do anything for.

The ones who:

smile back
engage a little
roll with it
don’t take themselves too seriously
stay positive

Not the ones snapping fingers. Not the ones acting like we’re beneath them. Not the ones treating the plane like a personal inconvenience (if you hate it so much, fly private, my dude).

If you want your flight attendant to go above and beyond for you? It’s not about status. It’s not about what seat you’re in. It’s about whether or not you feel like someone we want to take care of. Because at 35,000 feet, kindness gets you a lot further than status ever will.