If you read my last story about the napkin and the lipstick stain, here’s what came next. We flight attendants have our own secret language, nothing official, nothing you'd find in a manual. It’s simply our quiet shorthand, used when we want to communicate discreetly without passengers or even pilots catching on.

Like when I leaned close to my colleague and whispered:

“Coffee, Tea, or Me?” That’s our sarcastic code for when a passenger starts flirting like we're listed right alongside beverages. "Guy in 14A thinks this is a 'coffee, tea, or me' flight," I'd joke.

Then there’s:

“Sticky Tray.” This one's for when a passenger gives off uncomfortable, lingering vibes. “Sticky tray alert in 33B. Steer clear.”

I vividly recall one particular flight when I used that phrase loud and clear.

He was mid-40s, traveling alone. There was something off-puttingly personal about him, like he undressed people with his eyes and catalogued them for later. Every glance felt invasive, like a touch without permission. He asked for extra pillows three times, touched my hand a bit too long, and openly watched my hips whenever I passed. Eventually, he followed me to the rear galley under the pretense of needing another bottle of water.

That’s when I discreetly said to my crewmate, loud enough for her ears and just quiet enough for his: “Sticky tray in 33B, definitely avoid.”

No explanation needed. We both understood instantly.

But not all our secret codes are warnings about passengers. Some are just for us.

On long-haul flights, we take scheduled rest breaks in secret crew bunks. They’re hidden away, cramped and narrow, stacked like soft, dark coffins behind panels in the galley. Barely enough room to rest... or perhaps do something more.

Where Are They Hidden? The location depends on the aircraft model:

Aircraft Crew Bunks Location Boeing 777 Above the cabin, through a hidden hatch in the galley. Boeing 787 Behind the cockpit or over economy, stairs tucked out of sight. Airbus A350 Near the cockpit, behind a disguised panel. Airbus A380 Below the main deck, near cargo.

Passengers often don’t notice these at all, some bunks are camouflaged so well they just look like regular galley storage or closets.

I remember that one time... He was new, a first officer on rotation. Tall, quiet, carried himself with that calm, practiced ease pilots tend to have. Respectful at first. Polite. Kept his hands to himself, until he didn’t.

During boarding, our interactions were perfectly professional, yet there was a charge, a slow once-over, a subtle compliment about my perfume delivered softly, just below my ear.

After takeoff, I caught him watching as I leaned over the beverage cart. I mumbled something about a "galley check" to steady myself.

Later, he casually offered me the second rest break. I accepted immediately, perhaps a bit too eagerly.

Crew bunks usually fit 6 to 10 beds, depending on the aircraft and airline. They're meant for solo rest but sometimes, well, we make exceptions.

He went in first, murmuring something vague about needing a power nap. Ten minutes later, my heart racing, I followed.

The space was dark and intimate. He lay quietly on his back, waiting. I crawled over him, carefully straddling his hips. My tights were already halfway down, his belt unbuckled, as if we'd both been imagining this moment since boarding.

We moved silently. My breath quickened as his hands gently traced my thighs. His breath caught as he whispered my name like a secret only we shared.

We stayed painfully quiet; crew bunks might be private, but they're never truly soundproof. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, worth every second.

As we descended, the turbulence wasn’t the only thing leaving us breathless.

In our world, we might not always say exactly what we're thinking. But believe me, we always find a way to communicate. And it’s not just about the codes, it’s the hidden parts of the plane, the quiet rituals, the unspoken signals that make this job its own secret world.

You just have to know where to look.