Ramp Managers Part 1

Chris Rock

Yo lemme talk to y’all about some real shady characters… Not drug dealers… not tax collectors… I’m talkin’ about… RAMP MANAGERS. That’s right—those vest-wearin’, clipboard-holdin’, radio-screamin’ motherf#$kers who think runnin’ the ramp is like runnin’ the f#@king’ Pentagon. Ramp managers always act like THEY the reason planes fly. Like, “You see that 787 take off? That’s ‘cause I authorized the tug!” Motherf#$ker, you didn’t authorize shit—you yelled at three rookies and hid in the break room with a Tim Hortons! And why they always got that power-trip walk? They walk like they own the f#@kin’ tarmac. All slow… head on a swivel like they lookin’ for someone to blame. They always come up like, “Hey, why’s that cart parked over there?” “Why you standin’ around?” “Why you breathin’ like that?” Damn, I didn’t know we was on a f#@kin’ breathing schedule! They love them radios too—like it’s a weapon. “Ramp 5 to Tower, I got a lav cart outta place, over.” You callin’ the tower over a LAV CART?! We got planes missin’ push times and you out here actin’ like the cart farted on the Queen! And they always show up right AFTER the chaos. You sweatin’, covered in glycol, bags fallin’ off the belt, and here comes the ramp manager like, “What’s the problem here?” MOTHERF@#kER, YOU THE PROBLEM! They don’t do shit but go meeting to meeting, hand out write-ups like Oprah: “YOU get a warning! YOU get a suspension! YOU get the f#@k off my schedule!” And don’t get me started on how they train people. They got the nerve to yell at you on DAY ONE: “You don’t know how to marshal a plane?!?” No bullshit, I was workin’ at Wendy’s LAST WEEK! I was marshaling fries, not f#@kn’ Dreamliners! Half of ’em used to be rampies anyway. But now they wear a white shirt and act like they Jesus with a vest. “Back in my day we loaded widebodies with one tug and a hockey stick!” Yeah? Well back in YOUR day, planes had ashtrays and dinosaurs ran ground ops! Ramp managers don’t manage shit. They babysit chaos with a headset and a bad attitude. Their whole job is just saying “Hurry up” to people carrying 400 pounds of bags in a snowstorm! And yet… SOMEHOW… They always disappear when the shit hits the fan. Plane comin’ in late? They gone. Missing bag? Gone. Lav tank exploded? Oh NOW you can’t reach ’em on the radio?! “Ramp Manager 4… please respond.” Crickets. So remember folks— Behind every miserable ramp crew is a ramp manager holdin’ a coffee, watchin’ chaos, and blamin’ YOU for it.

I’m Chris Rock—stay safe, duck the clipboard, and keep your vest zipped! Goodnight!