Travel Blogger Disappointed In Service & Attitude
When you travel and things don’t go right, it can either be an ordeal or an adventure.
With Delta Air LInes over the holidays, it was an ordeal.
An On-Time Performance Level At The Mendoza Line
Three of my four flights were late. I had a missed connection to see my family, encountered a surly gate agent, missed a pickup upon my return that cost me money to get back home and – perhaps worst of all – got an overall feeling that Delta just didn’t care.
It’s this last part that gnaws at me the most. In my flying career, as it were, I’ve flown half a million miles on Delta. It was always one of my favorite airlines, in large part because it always took care of its customers.
Apparently, that has flown out the window.
It started with my initial flight from LAX to Atlanta. It was an hour late but I still had a chance to make my connection to Knoxville. In fact, I DID make it, but more on that in a moment.
As the plane approached Atlanta, I did all the twitchy and fidgety things you do when you’re late and you want to make your connection. And that is planning your escape from the plane, thinking ahead about running through the airport, tying to mentally time things and constantly looking at the time.
In the past, the flight attendants would make not just gate announcements but also ask other passengers to allow those with tight connections to get off the plane first, then tell you the gate agent has been alerted to your arrival and that they are expecting you and holding the plane for you.
None of this happened on this flight.
Delta also used to station people in red coats to greet and assist you once you got off the plane. I’ve even had them put me and other passengers on a cart and take us to our gates. The Red Coats, they called them.
None of this happened on this flight.
Still, I had a chance to make it and of course I wanted to see mom and dad.
So I dashed out from the gate, got on the tram to the other terminal, was dismayed to find the escalator broken which meant I had to run up the 100 or so very steep steps (of course) and was not at all surprised to discover my gate was at the far end of the terminal.
Still, I made it. Nearly 10 minutes early, in fact.
But the door was shut.
Shur!? They knew I was late and knew I had landed. How could the door be shut?
I waited around and eventually the gate agent arrived, told me “we didn’t think you would make it so you’re not even listed for this flight and have been booked on the next one” and proceeded to cop one of the worst “I don’t care about you” attitudes I’ve ever encountered from an airline employee.
The next flight was not for two hours. Mom and dad had already left to pick me up in Knoxville so all of us had to sit around for no reason.
As a final kick to my rear, on my return to Los Angeles, BOTH my flights were late.
That’s three out of four; if Delta were a baseball player its batting average would be close to the Mendoza level. (For this not familiar with the term it’s a sports phrase used to describe a certain level of incompetence in one’s job.)
The ATL-LAX flight caused me to miss my ride home, so I had to pay Lyft (which took more than half an hour to arrive, by the way) and I should be compensated for this expense.
Of course, Delta doesn’t care. And that gnaws at me, especially since I was once very loyal to this airline.
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