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Yesterday, I returned from spending my Christmas in Denver with my lovely parents, darling little brother, and assorted aunts, uncles and cousins. So I’m sure you can guess what this post is going to be about.
That’s right! How much I hate the airlines. Caution: This one’s a doozy.
Okay, on my way to Denver, I was substantially delayed, but it was a weather thing and the plane was coming from somewhere that was fogged in, and I got there fine… so no problem. Of course, when I got to DIA (which is a sizable airport), I discovered that crack crew at DIA Delta had decided to put six flights on one luggage carousel… despite the fact that there were three empty carousels right next to it. This carousel was loaded down with luggage packed so tightly that new luggage couldn’t find a place on the belt. The belt would start, run for five minutes, and stop. People were shoulder to shoulder around the belt. Passengers were actually rearranging the luggage to make room for more. The Delta baggage guys were standing in their office, leaning against the counter and passively surveying the madness. Finally, I elbowed my way to the front, reached out to grab my bag… and went with it. The man next to me hoisted me back to my feet, and someone further down pulled my bag and handed it down to me. An excruciatingly stupid (and avoidable) situation that ended up creating a very “we’re in this together” mentality. So I guess everything came out okay.
Cut to December 26th when it was time to fly home. Forget that I was already in a bad mood because these visits home are always so short (being a “grown-up” sucks). I got out of Denver with no problem and arrived in Atlanta for my 2 hour layover. I grabbed a slice of super greasy pizza (yum) and waited for my quick little hop (usually about a 30 minute flight) back home. Of course, it was the last flight of the night. So… they canceled it. “Maintenance.” And thus begins my love letter to Delta.
- We all rushed to customer service and stood in line. The woman at the front of the line kept yelling that we should scan our tickets to find out when we’ve been rebooked instead of just getting in line. So we did. Only they hadn’t rebooked us yet, so it just kept saying that our flight still existed. Awesome.
- One of the first people to make it to the front of the line came back to report that she had been informed that no flight vouchers would be awarded. It’s one thing to not offer them. It’s another thing to be asked for a voucher by an inconvenienced customer and refuse them. Great.
- There was another woman at the counter who kept yelling out to the line, “you know, they should just get on the phone instead of waiting in line or they’re not going to get a seat,” in this sing-songy, angry tone that really just made me want to kick her in the shins.
- This is a plane of people whose destination is a 2 1/2 hour drive from this layover. So you’d think a logical solution would be rental car vouchers. Nope. “We don’t do that.”
- Okay… fine. No rental car. So they gave us hotel vouchers and two seven dollar food vouchers for dinner and breakfast (I’d already eaten dinner) and rebooked us for the next morning. They also handed out little overnight kits (I got the last one… so I’m not sure how the people after me fared). Fine.
- I’m not sure if they told the hotel the scope of the people coming, because we went out to the bank of hotel shuttles… and waited… and waited… and waited… a rather sizable crowd of people all waiting for a teeny shuttle. I finally snapped and payed for a taxi. Of course, they hadn’t told me the address of the hotel, only the name… and there were two Comfort Inns near the airport. But my friendly neighborhood taxi driver asked around and figured it out… and I’m pretty sure I got there before anyone else.
- I checked in and went to my room where I finally examined my overnight kit. Emblazoned on the side, in all its silk-screened irony, was the Skyteam logo and the words “Caring more about you.” Fantastic. Inside were some basic toiletries and – oh yes – a Delta Skyteam t-shirt. I’m sorry… I know that they’re just trying to give me something else to sleep in, but at this point… I want any t-shirt but a Delta t-shirt. Seriously… Dave’s Neo-Fascist Garage might have evoked less of a sneer from me.
- The hotel itself was… well… it was pretty crappy. The faucet on the sink was VERY loose. The stopper had been removed from the bathtub – leaving only the rusty metal spike on which it used to perch. And I had to go down to the front desk to retrieve the world’s shortest ethernet cable in order to plug in and email my good friends at Brains on Fire to let them know why I would not be there in the morning as I had planned – and why I would be using an extra half day of valuable vacation time. Now, I’m not expecting five-star accommodations or anything, but a place where my shower is not a tetanus risk might be nice.
- The next morning, I awoke from my oh-so-satisfying night’s sleep in that room between the vending machines and the elevator and headed off to the airport… where my flight was, of course, delayed for an hour.
- I FINALLY arrived in Greenville (12 hours after my original scheduled arrival time)… with no little gray wheely bag in sight. The ONE man working the Delta baggage counter allowed a line of about a baker’s dozen to form while he unloaded an inordinate amount of unclaimed luggage (we all looked at it longingly… searching vainly for a familiar bag) from the carousel. He then meandered over to his thankless position behind the counter where he informed me that my luggage is “probably” still in Atlanta and “might” come in on the next flight around 1:30. Again… no flight voucher. Northwest gives you a $25 voucher when they lose your bag. Sure, it’s rife with blackout and expiration dates, but it’s a gesture. No such gesture from our friends at Delta.
- I tracked my luggage claim online… which is really pretty cool, if you’re going to need it. First my luggage was located and trying to be scheduled for a flight. Then it was in Greenville. Then it would be delivered sometime between 4:30pm and 4:30am. Swell.
- Around 5:30 (pm), my luggage was delivered by a friendly courier… a company independent from Delta… and the ordeal had drawn to a close.
Okay… that is a whole big long rant to say this: Airline prices continue to go up, while the term “No-Frills Airline” becomes increasingly redundant. Not only do these companies not feel they owe us, I dunno, more than a couple crackers. They don’t feel that they owe us basic human treatment. The service is poor, the employees are rude, the apology for inevitable issues is non-existent… and we have no recourse, because we still have to get where we’re going. I guess I can’t help but wonder when the turning point comes. When will we say “enough already” and demand an airline that treats its passengers as if they are paying hundreds of dollars to engage their services? And will they ever deliver? So many things have gotten so much better in the last decade. The internet, TVs, cars, phones… it all keeps getting “better.” But air travel gets increasingly awful. We (and everyone) post continually about the power of the consumer in today’s society. So when do we band together as consumers and say, “HEY! I want my lukewarm quiche and free mini-pillow, and I want it NOW!”