lilahgoode:
â oh, youâre preaching to the choir, my friend. â she was more than aware just how entitled passengers thought themselves to be, even though their childâs papercut doesnât come close to being as demanding as anotherâs broken arm. â thatâs the worst part of this job, really â whether youâre a security guard or a nurse, no oneâs authority is higher than the passengersâ.. apparently. â answering his grin with one of her own, delilah tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and shrugged delicately. â if thereâs ever anyone you donât have to worry about ranting to, itâs me. i know iâve gone off on more than a few tangents to unsuspecting co-workers about the trials of my job, too. as for my shift.. well, someone decided to upchuck all over my nice clean examination table, but thatâs nothing out of the ordinary. â
âwell, you know what they say; the customerâs always right. and the passengers are customers. they pay for the ticket on the ship and for everything they get whilst theyâre on board. itâs like weâre not human beings, weâre just robots with no emotions or feelings. we just exist for their pleasure and help. which is whatever, but you know, itâs a bit shit.â xavier smiled a little as delilah kept talking and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pressed his cheek against her hair. âyouâre a babe, you know that? sometimes just need a shoulder to whine on. especially after a shitty shift. but you can do the same with me. always. if you ever need to cry or whine on someone, thatâs me. you can just come and have a chat and iâll listen to everything. that sounds lovely. real fucking nice. i know you canât actually blame them if theyâre feeling ill, but god. aim a little, at least.â











