Flying sucks. If it didn't pay so well to travel, I'd never do it.
| Errline
Flights Updated
November 2007.
Flying sucks. If it didn't pay so well to travel, I'd never do it. |
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United lies to everybody. It's what they
do. To employees, to customers. And what's the point of constantly
giving me upgrade coupons if you never f______g upgrade me?
If you are NOT boarding early, then please get the
HELL out of the way. I'm in Group #1,
NO, I don't wanna listen to other people's cell phone
conversations while I'm in the air. I listen to enough
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This is
my ongoing log of bad flights. I have had many of them, and expect to
have many
more. The latest are at the bottom. I've also included
my index of airports.
| One of Ed's observations is that in order to improve ontime statistics, the airlines have lengthened, on paper, the flight times. This means that even if they take off incredibly late, they can still land on time, if not early. So with a little bit of smoke and mirrors, they've made themselves look much better. |
| October 1994: Sitting on a United plane in Phoenix, waiting
to head home to Chicago, with a bunch of Motorola personnel who made the
trip between the cities fairly often. As was apparently the usual case,
the flight was held so the usual bunch of idiots could board the plane
up to twenty minutes late. This way they got away with their stupidity,
while United got to fill more seats at the expense of all the morons who
showed
up on time. Finally, the gentleman seated directly in front
of me started yelling, "Close the damn door,
let's take off!" and several other passengers became equally
inflamed. Being the asshole that I am, I joined in the chorus, and sure
enough, it wasn't long before the attendants pulled the door shut and we
got our butts moving.
June 1995: Here we go again. United #145, Cleveland to Chicago, 40 minutes late taking off (despite good weather),and hotter than hell on the plane. July 1996: Southwest to St. Louis in the morning, back in the evening. Took off perfectly on time, both flights. Why can't everybody do that? August 1996: United 1142 Chicago to Detroit. A very full, regular businessman's flight. SO .... the first boneheaded mistake is not checking people in until 25 minutes before scheduled takeoff. That's the first indication we'll be late. We don't start boarding until five minutes past takeoff time. Half an hour past takeoff, we're still boarding. Way to go, guys. April 1997: Stranded in Detroit because Northwest couldn't get their plane off the ground. One person told me the wrong crew had shown up. Another told me they had mechanical problems related to the door. On the phone, they told me it was mechanical problems related to something electrical. It was originally a 5:45 pm flight, but it turned into a 6:00, then a 6:30, and so on. They kept promising updates to be announced at the gate, and of course they continually came fifteen minutes late. Interestingly enough, I got better updates on the phone than from the Northwest rummies who were right there outside the frigging plane. Five minutes before the next update at 8:30, I called Northwest from the pay phone right next to the gate counter, and they told me the plane was going nowhere for a while yet. Meanwhile, the gate folks couldn't tell us anything. So I loudly and obnoxiously informed all those standing around that I'd just been informed of our being stranded further, and also loudly announced that I'd arranged to trade in my "worthless frigging Northwest ticket" for accomodations on the next Southwest flight. Unfortunately, Southwest flies into the wrong airport in Chicago, so I grabbed the van between Midway and O'Hare upon landing. Northwest stuck me three times in five weeks. Early October 1997, United 570 out of Dallas. Because of faulty radar, the plane is delayed. Naturally. I've gotten to the airport and gotten myself on a flight scheduled two and a quarter hours earlier than my original. Great, I'll get to see the kids beforethey go to bed. But then United rears its ugly head. Instead of a 3:15, I'm now looking at a 4:15. But wait, after everyody's boarded, they keep the doors open, to squeeze in a few more latecomers, and compound our tardiness even more thrugh sheer greed.. HEY, we're already LATE, screw these people who are just now coming to the airport. Enough of us bitch that the attendants consult with the captain and
with the gate, and they finally shut the damn doors. THEN we sit at the
gate for another fifteen minutes, then we get lined up for the runway,
and we don't take the hell off until 5:30. This happens to be the scheduled
takeoff time of my ORIGINAL FLIGHT. Idiots. On top of that, most of the
phones in the back half of the plane didn't work, so I couldn't call home.
Fly the friendly frigging skies, indeed.
Late October, '97. It's the United 2:45
PM from Boston Logan to O'Hare. Because the plane's late getting in to
begin with, we're late boarding. Then the flight attendants do a less than
stellar job getting all the nincompoops in their seats, prompting me to
broadcast from my own seat, "Sit down so we can get home!" We finally
take off around 3:25. Then the phones don't work right, which is getting
to be a habit on these flights. The stupid shit sitting next to me is not
only spreading out all over the landscape, he's twitching in his sleep.
I finally give him a less than playful nudge. I really hate United planes,
they are WAY too tiny, there is barely enough room to just sit, let alone
do something complex like scratch your knee. Greed greed greed greed.
Mid-November 1997: Just went to St. Louis and back on Southwest. Took off on time, and despite the nasty snow down south, they got everybody's ass in their seat, and pulled out and took off (including de-icing) within fifteen minutes of scheduled departure. THe person next to me remarked, "Given the weather and the de-icing, United would've been at least forty-five minutes late getting out of here." Just what I was thinking. May '98. Continental 7 AM Chicago to Houston. We're maybe thirty seconds off the ground, and we hit two frigging geese.They take out the left engine, so we circle roughly a thousand feet off the ground for a while, making some lovely noises, then we land right the hell back at O'Hare. So instead of an aisle seat on a not terribly crowded plane that has left on time, I end up in a middle fucking seat on a packed plane that's already late for my appointment, and they leave half an hour behind schedule to boot. Thanks a lot, Ja. Late May '98, Air Canada dumps us off, we sit through the longest customs wait ever, and find out they've moved our luggage. They ask for our claim tickets, and hand us our bags. When we reach the hotel, I realize, they've given me a bag that looks JUST like my bag, but isn't my bag. Ed calls for me immediately, but the idiots say they can't deliver my bag until they get back the bag they gave me. I get in a f_____g cab at 1 AM and head to the Four Seasons Hotel to personally deliver the wrong bag to the right guy. He calls Air Canada for me, to say he's got my bag. Okay, I say, where's MY bag? They finally bring me my bag late the next morning, after I've gone to Eaton Place Mall and bought some new pants, socks, and a shirt for my meeting.
Mid June '98, Air Canada is over an hour late getting me from Chicago to Toronto on a Wednesday night. After we finally land, once again I'm sucked from customs into the immigration line, so they can hassle me for the third time in as many trips. The very next day, my 5:15 from Toronto to Kansas City is turning into a 6 PM. "Waiting on an aircraft, problems with navigational equipment," was all we could get out of somebody at another gate. Nobody bothers showing up at our gate counter until almost 6. Meantime, I get some bimbo at Air Canada on the phone, and all she wants to do is get off the phone. None of the Air Canada personnel at any of the other counters wants to take responsibility or even make a phone call. I get on the horn to Air Canada's offices again, and again some other woman tells me there's nothing she or anybody else can do, if there's nobody at the gate. "So you're telling me that there's no plane, there's no information, there's nobody at the gate to tell us anything, and nobody can do anything?" "Sir, that's all the information I have." So I tell her people are getting violent. "Can you hear that?" I asked. "People are throwing things. This is getting really ugly. One of you geniuses better do something quick." She finally makes a call, and a couple of minutes later somebody finally shows up at our gate. It's fifty minutes after originally scheduled departure, and somebody finally makes an appearance to say they've got a plane. Then they taxi for twenty-five minutes before we finally take off. We make it to Kansas City nearly three hours late.
Feb. '99, Northwest 6 AM O'Hare to Detroit. Typical Northwest chaos in the boarding area. Wonderfully cramped 727, in a window seat next to a perfume-drenched woman who should have bought two tickets. Early on the flight turns into a 6:20, and after a gate delay, a long taxi, and another runway delay, it's a 6:50 before we're off the ground. Next day, on the United 10:45 AM to Boston, packed with parents hauling their kids, they hand out headphones to everyone, then proceed to show an episode of Friends in which Lisa Kudrow goes to bed with an underage boy. I watched the man sitting next to me in the middle section snatch the headphones off his two kids. |
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April '99, American 1112 Chicago to Boston. Our 5pm turns into a 5:40 when the crew fails to materialize before 5:20. Two older idiots in front of me while boarding insist on stopping every few seconds to converse. I remind them, they are causing everybody behind them to keep stopping. Talk on the plane, I tell them. Then they decide to take apart all their belongings for storage in three different bins before sitting. I suggest strongly that they take their seats so all of us behind them can get on the plane. After I sit, they get up again to start the process all over, holding up boarding even further. I remind them, we're running late, they're holding up boarding, and if they make me miss my connection to Quebec, I will thump them. They sit. At Logan (Boston), Ed's itinerary says he's getting a Delta Business Express from Terminal C. Mine says American Business Express from Terminal B. American's ticket counters are all closed. I find the airport map, which says Business Express is in C. We get there, and there are no signs for Business Express. We take a shot at the Delta counter, and they point us in the right place. Someone who isn't familiar with Logan and who might freak would have missed the frigging flight altogether. It's an itty-bitty prop plane. A man serves cheese and crackers and soda. It's not a proper job for a grown man. Two days later, despite rain in Quebec, Air Canada actually takes off on time for Toronto. But despite perfect weather in Toronto, we circle for thirty-five minutes and arrive late, and then they dawdle getting our bags to the carousel. We miss our connection to Chicago by minutes. And so we miss our connection in Chicago to Kansas City, where we don't make it to the hotel til 3 AM. On this trip, I'm reminded, at least American gives you some semblance of leg room. United jets are TOO DAMN CRAMPED.
Holy crap, this is a bad one. April '99, United 535 Chicago to Omaha. Weather's kinda crappy, so our original flight is canned, we end up on the later one, scheduled for noon. Everybody boards except me and Ed (we're holding out to the last second). Next thing you know, they herd everybody back OFF. "We're switching planes," they tell us. Hmmm, must be a mechanical problem, no? NO. They're giving our plane to some people connecting to San Diego. Huh? Why are THEY more important than WE are? They actually took us off the plane and GAVE OUR PLANE AWAY. Hey, I don't care, I get to see my daughter's recital now, but everybody else who wants to get to Omaha is standing around waiting to hear if and when we're getting another plane, while the San Diego-bound folks board OUR PLANE. And they stand there for an hour, while other people get to fly THEIR perfectly good plane to a different city. This one is un-frigging-believable. Two days later, United sent Premier members a letter apologizing for the "delay." I sent them back a crabby letter explaining to them that most people weren't stupid enough to see it AS a delay. After a few more weeks, I get an additional letter, and they give me a couple thousand miles. They also tell me they're crediting the flight. After looking at our credit card statement, we realize they've only credited part of the flight. We call, and they tell us they'll credit the rest of it the following month. Okay, so you take my money NOW, you take my plane away NOW, but you'll give me PART of my money back eventually, and then the REST of my money later still.
June 9, 1999: United 554 MPLS-Chicago. A bunch of screaming ninny teenagers are heading to DC. I just want to get home. Because of weather, we get hung up, first at the gate, then on the runway. Meantime, the pilot broadcasts a personal message to one of the teens, who is the son of one of the pilot's friends. How touching. Next thing you know, this idiot kid has hauled six of his friends, both girls and boys, up to the cockpit. At one point, there are FIVE TEENAGERS IN THE COCKPIT. Two of the girls are wrestling, literally, for position in the cockpit door. They're yanking on things. I"m thinking, what the f____ is the pilot thinking? What if one of these future cab drivers bumps a switch, knocks something loose, or loses a retainer in the controls? Here's a good one: at the end of said flight, my bag never shows. I
dig out my ticket envelope, which had contained the tickets and the bag
claim checks for both me and Ed. I peel off Ed's to look at mine. It's
stamped with some stranger's name, and indicates that my bag is headed
for DENVER. I put in a claim for lost luggage. My bag is scanned an hour
later in Denver. I call the next morning, and find out that the idiot United
baggage guy who took down my report never entered the info into their computer
system. So I go through the whole freaking mess with another guy in
the morning. They tell me my bag will be on the first flight back to
Chicago from Denver. Later, I call, and they tell me they don't have my
bag in Denver anymore, so it must have been put on the flight to Chicago.
But later, I find out they tried delivering my bag, the one with my
name on my luggage tag, to that same stranger, IN DENVER, and he refused
it. HIS bag, a golf bag which looks nothing like mine, languishes in Chicago.
NINE phone calls over the course of eight hours FINALLY gets my bag identified
in a bin in the Denver airport. They put it on a plane that night. Meantime,
I've gotta get to Ottawa that night, so I have to put together another
travel bag.
September '99, on United, heading for San Fran.
Weather here is good, as is the weather there. So why do we sit on the
plane at the gate for an extra hour and ten minutes? Hell if I know. But
we do. No information is forthcoming.
October '99: da wife and I are off to Hawaii.
When you redeem frequent flier miles with United, you are instantly scum.
No options, no modifications, no upgrades, NOTHING. They love you
UNTIL you trade in those miles. Fine. They
book us in an aisle and a window for all four legs, telling us, "nobody
will take those middle seats." Bullshit. Chicago to
LA, LA to Honolulu, Honolulu to San Fran, San Fran to home, those middle
seats were ALWAYS filled. ON the flight, we were told they always ARE.
To Honolulu, a plane change had the two of us seated several seats apart,
but we were lucky enough to convince somebody to swap a seat. On
both legs home, a combined nine hours of air time, we got non-working audio.
So screw the movie, screw the music and the news. "We'll give
you a refund on the headsets, if you'd like." If I'd like?
They don't frigging WORK, so I think I'd like.
Oct '99 : Off to Toronto again. I've
got upgrade coupons that expire at the end of the month. Do I get
to use them? They keep sending me the goddamn things. But they
never upgrade me. I've got miles out the ass. How about a goddamn
break once in a while?
23 Dec 99 : miracle of miracles, trying to
get home from Grand Rapids in a blizzard, pretty much a whiteout.
If I'm screwed, I rent a car and plow home around Lake Michigan.
But what's this? Our plane is carrying a kidney, whose ultimate destination
is a transplant operation in Denver, so we get special priority.
Amazing. Everybody else is grounded. There truly is a God.
She's just screwing with me most of the time, is all.
December '99 : Trying to get home from Columbus. Lotsa snow there, but not too bad in Chicago. We finally get in the air (American), but when we land, there's no gate. After some mumbling about conditions and scheduling, they blame it on "de-icing," none of which is going on at O'Hare, since it's well above freezing. American simply didn't have a gate ready. And when they do, they can't get the plane and the jetbridge lined up, so they don't open the doors for an additional ten minutes. Just get me off the stinking plane! Ah, but wait ..... I read in the news how American is suing to get the unions to stop a work slowdown in Chicago and elsewhere. So that's the REAL reason for the delay. January 2000 : United gets me to Boston almost three hours late. It's now 1 am, and they're having trouble opening the cargo doors on the plane. So now I'm really tired, really hungry, and I can't get my luggage. Still January, and coming back from Toronto. United 743. We take off and immediately start climbing at 45 degrees, it feels like. Everybody grips their armrests. TOO steep. It's a weird climb, don't know why. The whole trip, we're making weird bobs and weaves. Then on approach to O'Hare, we descend so rapidly, it feels like we're being pushed back into our seats. What the hell was the pilot on that night? |