It was one of those mornings. The shrill tones of the phone dragged me unwillingly out of my slumber, and I awakened in the dark of the Tehran Sheraton Hotel to a voice that announced emphatically: "Good morning, Miss, the crew bus is waiting!"rnI replaced the receiver and looked at my alarm clock. It was 0430-which might not have been so bad if I had had more than two hours' sleep. I was still on probation with the airline, so I had to look sharp. As I sat on the edge of the bed, barely upright, eyelids pressing down heavily on the pink peepers, I was not quite cognizant of the fact that I had been called for a flight.
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