A Demand in the Premium Cabin
The ferry attendant pointed the edge of her handheld scanner directly toward the paper ticket resting in the passenger’s lap. She stepped forward, planting her feet firmly between the two rows of leather seating inside the observation lounge.
“Get up,” she stated, her posture rigid in her dark navy uniform jacket and patterned neck scarf. “These seats are for premium passengers.”
The passenger remained sitting, his gray-bearded chin tilted down as his thumbs held the edges of the printed boarding receipt. He wore a simple navy quarter-zip pullover and charcoal trousers, blending quietly into the quiet corner of the cabin.
“My fare didn’t include this?” he asked calmly, raising his head just enough to meet her gaze.
The attendant did not scan the slip. Instead, she gestured with an open hand back toward the glass doors leading to the main decks below.
Refusing to Back Down
“That ticket belongs in the ordinary passenger seating,” she countered, lowering the scanner to her side. Across the aisle, two older travelers turned their heads to watch the exchange unfold.
“Does Boyle remove my carrier access?” the man asked, his fingers smoothing a corner of the folded ticket.
“Stop disturbing guests who paid for some comfort,” she replied quickly, taking another step closer to his small round table.
The man did not flinch or adjust his posture on the cushions. “Then stop disturbing mine.”
Her jaw set into a firm line as she lifted her chin. “The purser will have you moved out himself.”
“Bring the purser,” the man replied softly, resting his hands flat across the paper once again.
A Sudden Reversal
The attendant spun around toward the mahogany entryway and raised her right arm, calling out as a senior officer in a four-stripe naval jacket entered the lounge. “He’s refusing—”
“Enough!” the purser cut in sharply, his voice echoing across the wood-paneled ceiling. He stepped between them, his eyes wide and locked onto the seated traveler.
The purser turned to the young woman immediately. “He’s our ferry company’s passenger experience director.”
The attendant’s hand dropped from the air. Her fingers tightened around the handle of the electronic scanner as her shoulders sank an inch.
“I… I didn’t know,” she murmured, her voice losing its edge as she looked between both men.
The seated director folded his ticket neatly into thirds, his thumbs pressing down the crease. “Hold carriage ops. You’re off ferry duty.”
He looked directly up at her, keeping his hands still on his knees. “Your attitude needs the downgrade, not mine.”
The purser nodded once, taking the attendant’s scanner directly from her hands and turning his back to walk toward the bridge entrance. The woman reached both palms forward in desperation, pleading toward the seated man as the engines hummed steadily below the deck floorboards.
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