Today I’m writing to you live from the whisky, country music, NASCAR and redneck filled state of Tennessee. I wish we had traveled here via the latest form of advanced prototype teleporting technology, but alas we had to fly here on a Delta aircraft instead.
Now I’ve flown Delta several times before and on this same journey from Ontario, CA to Atlanta GA and have usually had a trouble-free experience. In fact based on these generally positive experiences I often wondered how Delta managed to achieve a customer satisfaction ranking in the bottom half of the spectrum when competing with other major US airlines - quite an accomplishment in mediocrity considering the company’s size and market share. However yesterday I was able to experience first-hand a sample of this frustration inducing service.
It all started with a 2 hour delay on the inbound flight of our plane to Ontario from nowheresville. We were told they had to make an emergency landing along the way - though it was apparently not something wrong with the plane itself as the turn around time was short and we were on the same aircraft. My guess is they found out someone had smuggled a plastic comb into the cabin so they used 3 armed sky marshals to arrest him then re routed the plane straight to Guantanamo Bay to drop him off for a visit ... for the rest of his life.
In any case the gate agents assured us they would do all they could to help us make our connecting flight to Chattanooga. Stuff like burn more fuel and ride the strong tail wind to get us there in 3.5 hours instead of 4. The flight took off (2 hours late), we fell asleep, the ride was smooth and as fast as they said it would be, and we touched down at 7:50 in the AM. The Chattanooga flight was to depart at 8:25 so I assumed Dunce Delta had come good on their promise to get us to our connecting flight ... but then things took a turn for the blood-boiling.
A 10 min, 1.5 mile an hour taxi to the gate, followed by a run and a shuttle ride and a another run to the departure gate all the while carrying our two ‘tiny’ travel weary dogs who seemed to gain several pounds in weight with each passing hallway. We arrived at the gate at precisely 8:21am - according to the synchronized airport system clocks - breathing heavily and believing deep in our souls that we had made it, only to find the door closed and no one at the desk. What The!?!
They had left ... early?!? In this day and age of frequently late and delayed flights how could they possibly be on time THIS time? Let alone a few minutes early. A trip to the nearest customer service desk only made the temperament see more red. “Oh no one was at the gate, that means they left” was her idea of customer service. “Before the scheduled time of 8:25 and while up to 4 passengers were on their way through the terminal”, I asked. A shrug and a “I’m just trying to help you here sir” was not a comforting response.
To be fair to the good few among them what they had done was preempt the flight arriving too late to make the connection and while we were still in the air pre-booked us onto the next flight to Chattanooga leaving in 2 hours. While that action was appreciated the failure to let us know was not. The running, the pushing past other disgruntled travelers, the stress, all for nothing and totally unnecessary in the end. Thanks but no thanks for that one Douchebags Delta.
Though it all worked out in the end and we made it safely and only a few hours late to Chattanooga the whole ordeal was quite an ... uh ... ordeal. Enough of an ordeal to inspire a ‘United Breaks Guitars‘ (check out the YouTube link to the right) type e-protest. But since I don’t have the musical skills to emulate Dave Carroll’s good work I decided to write a poem instead. This poem is titled ‘Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Douchebags’.
Roses are red
Violets are Blue
Delta is Lame
Finis
Take THAT Delta!!
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