This was inspired by LV Steve's post about his experience with Ryan Airline. I'll not mention the name of the airline in my tale of woe because it is in the United States of America and is one of the biggies and there may be one or more memebers that work for this company and I don't want any hard feelings...or dings from the boss man. I'll simply refer to it as X Airline.
HELL'S AIRLINE
While my daughter was in the Army, building her money for college, she had left her car with me to sell and then send her the money. I wasn't having any trouble finding interested buyers but I wasn't having any luck actually selling the darn thing because of the outrageous insurance costs. It was a Pontiac Firebird and, although it had a small engine and was not a high performance car, it was still classified as a sports car, I assumed because of it's body style.
By the time she was transferred to Ft. Sill (Lawton Oklahoma) she had given up on ever selling the car so she called me one night and asked me, "Dad, if I'm going to be making payments on this car I'd like to be driving it. If I pay for your plane ticket home (The area just SE of Houston Texas) would you mind driving it up here to me?" I said I'd be happy to. I should have been listening for warning bells.
I like to drive at night so I left here about mid-night or so and drove from Deer Park, down in SE Texas to Lawton, Oklahoma non stop. It was well after day-light when I pulled into town. I took her car in to a service station for an oil change, radiator flush, transmission service, and tire rotation. While they were workring on the car I called my daughter and told her I'd made the trip okay and when her car was serviced I'd bring it out to her on the base.
When I got there she saw how sleepy I was and so we went and checked me into a motel in town and she agreed to come back for me that evening and we'd go to dinner. The next morning she'd pick me up and take me to the airport (I use the term very loosely)
Lawton Municipal Airport is a small square building. You can stand any where in the place and see the entire thing. It is mostly an X Airlines facility, featuring XX, X's subsidiary. There was also a small spot on the end of the counter for Y's subsidiary, YY
The entire ticket/service counter is approximately 35' long. 75% of that space is taken up by X. The lone ticket agent (or what ever) was a young woman in her early to mid twenties. Her short blond hair was stringy and dirty looking. Her make up was in pretty sorry shape and she looked like she'd slept in her uniform (on the ground) for 2 or 3 nights. She had bread, I think it was, crammed between all the teeth that showed and her deodorant had given up the struggle long ago, leaving behind huge perspiration stains. There was a small girl child of 4 or 5 years tugging at this young ladies uniform (I could only assume they were mother and daughter) and screaming, "Moma, Moma, I gotta PEE!
The child's hair was the same color blonde but more curly and longer. It was a mess. Small mammals could have been living in there. Her face sported a 2 or 3 day accumulation of dried dirt and snot and she was holding herself and yelling to beat the band how badly she had to go to the bathroom. Her mother was yelling right back at her, "Can't you see I'm working here? Just hold it till I get my break!"
I checked in when it was my turn and went and sat down with my daughter to wait for departure. I told her she needn't wait but she said she wanted to. So...we were having a nice visit when the announcement came that my flight would be delayed for an hour and a half. We decided to go eat breakfast.
When we returned to the airport I went to the counter and waited in a lengthy line to inquired as to my flight's status. While shaking the leg with the whining child hanging onto it she looked me dead in the eye and told me that the delay time had increased by one hour. I sent my daughter on her way and settled in for the wait. Now, this was all in the days before cell phones and I was having to call home with each new setback. I was to go into Dallas and fly on a real airplane (X, 727) to Houston where my wife was to pick me up. I was sweating the connection, still unaware of the downward spiral I was in...would I make it, or would I not??
I was just starting to get really antsy when the announcement came that my flight was cancelled. Every one in the joint must have been on that flight because in the next instant seemingly every one in the place was mobbing the little end of the counter with the Y subsidiary. I fought my way to the counter and got booked on a flight to Houston that left two hours from then. When I got that sorted out I moved along the counter into the space for XX and happened to notice out the window that there was a plane on the pad that had about a dozen guys working on it. Do you remember the old tv show from the '50s SKY KING? It was a plane just like that. A twin engine job and they had the cowling off both engines. There were parts and tools scattered all over the ground under both wings. Tempers were running hot too, as the guys were hollering at each other an nobody seemed to know what was going on. There were several extension cords going in through the side door and up into the cockpit. I asked the young mother if that was the plane that I was supposed to be flying on. She said that it was and that it would be ready "soon".
A cold shiver ran up my spine as I counted myself lucky. I'll be HAPPY to wait a few more hours if it will keep me off that hunka junka.
With only about a half hour to wait, the announcement came that the original plane had been repaired and was going to be departing 5 minutes sooner than my new plane. We had the option to stay like we were or go out on the original flight. I thought that over for about half a second and decided to stay like I was.
Shortly I watched the original plane take off and silently wished all aboard GOOD LUCK! They called my flight and when the plane pulled around in to view my heart sank. It was another twin engine plane only a lot smaller and if anything, looked older. The cock pit had a pilot seat and a seat for the copilot. The entry way into the cockpit had no door in it. There were 19 passenger seats, 9 on one side and 10 on the other. We all had to duck way down to walk the length of the plane. You can forget about any such thing as a flight attendant.
We took off, climbed to cruising altitude and leveled off. The plane ride was extremely bumpy. All I could see of the pilot, from where I was sitting, was his right arm and he had it out in the doorway and was holding a cup of coffee, The copilot had his left arm extended into the doorway as well and he also was holding a cup of coffee. The coffee was sloshing around and spilling on the floor and soon both cups were empty. The guy across the aisle and I just looked at each other and I expect he was as uncomfortable and worried as I was.
Interestingly enough, the pilot made the announcement that we were passing the flight that left before we did, I looked out my window and down at the "SKY KING SPECIAL" as we passed over it. It seemed to be struggling. I looked away and silently repeated my previous prayer for the safety of all aboard.
We landed in Dallas and, although I despise DFW, I was overjoyed to be there. I checked in at the X Airlines counter and was told that due to rough weather in New York, the origin of my flight to Houston, we were delayed by an hour and fifteen minutes.
So it's one more phone call to home.
Just to add to the aggravation and tension, there were 4 rowdy children in the waiting area who's parents were either not present or not interested in the mental health of the other people waiting for their flight. These kids were about 8 to 11 years old and running wildly and noisily all over the waiting area. I was beginning to wonder if I was going to be able to maintain proper deportment long enough to get home. I mean come on, a room full of sadistic comedians could not have written a worse script here.
Finally, our flight was announced. I was in line and the pilot was standing there at the entrance to the jetway urging folks along and when I got up next to him he put his hand in the middle of my back and gave me a shove, saying, "Alright people, we've got a lot of time to make up. Lets move on along now." I turned on him and calmly told him that it was not my fault the plane was running late and that if he touched me again that neither one of us'd never make it onto the plane. I must have had a heck of an expression because he dropped his eyes and walked back up the line. When I got on the plane he was there and gave me a look. I halfway expected to have the cops yank me off the plane and clap me in irons. At that point I didn't really care. All I wanted was to get home, failing that, to cause grievous bodily harm to the next X Airlines employee that I encountered.
Dallas to Houston is about a 35 minute flight. You take off, you climb to altitude, and the you immediately begin your decent to your approach to Dallas. I needed a drink badly so I ordered a double bloody mary. When the flight attendant handed me the drink we were still gaining altitude and the nose of the plain was pointing almost straight up. After the "hand-off" I noticed the flight attendant still standing there, arm extended, hand open, to receive the empty glass. She told me to go ahead and knock it back, that we were about to land. No problem...chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug, and here ya go, and thanks!
When we touched down in Houston I was about half a heartbeat from killin' some one. I saw my wife waiting and I just melted into a puddle of relief and gratitude. One hug and I was back to normal...mostly. She asked why I was so quiet on the way home but it was a few days before I could talk about it. See, if I'm going to get jerked around, even for a whole day...If I'm going to encounter one problem after another and if the day is a loss, I do a LOT better if I know it up front. This moment to moment thing get's me hot. There'll be a short delay....Sorry sir, the delay will be a little bit longer....sorry sir you're canceled...Sorry sir there will be yet one more delay...sorry...and so on. Grrrrrr!
I wrote a letter to X Airlines and asked my wife to read it and see if my language may have been a little too strong. She read it and told me that before I mailed it I ought to hire a lawyer. I put it down and went back to it the next day and reread it. I'm sure glad I did because the best thing that could have happened was that I'd be dismissed as a kook or crack pot. I guarantee that a letter like that in today's world of homeland security, etc, would get you locked up before you knew what was happening.
I never did find out if that other plane made it to Houston or not and I hope that the little girl in Lawton finally got to go to the bathroom before she had an accident. And I hope that both she and her mom got to spend a little time on personal hygiene before the sun rose and set too many more time.
Now you know why...I HATE TO FLY!
HELL'S AIRLINE
While my daughter was in the Army, building her money for college, she had left her car with me to sell and then send her the money. I wasn't having any trouble finding interested buyers but I wasn't having any luck actually selling the darn thing because of the outrageous insurance costs. It was a Pontiac Firebird and, although it had a small engine and was not a high performance car, it was still classified as a sports car, I assumed because of it's body style.
By the time she was transferred to Ft. Sill (Lawton Oklahoma) she had given up on ever selling the car so she called me one night and asked me, "Dad, if I'm going to be making payments on this car I'd like to be driving it. If I pay for your plane ticket home (The area just SE of Houston Texas) would you mind driving it up here to me?" I said I'd be happy to. I should have been listening for warning bells.
I like to drive at night so I left here about mid-night or so and drove from Deer Park, down in SE Texas to Lawton, Oklahoma non stop. It was well after day-light when I pulled into town. I took her car in to a service station for an oil change, radiator flush, transmission service, and tire rotation. While they were workring on the car I called my daughter and told her I'd made the trip okay and when her car was serviced I'd bring it out to her on the base.
When I got there she saw how sleepy I was and so we went and checked me into a motel in town and she agreed to come back for me that evening and we'd go to dinner. The next morning she'd pick me up and take me to the airport (I use the term very loosely)
Lawton Municipal Airport is a small square building. You can stand any where in the place and see the entire thing. It is mostly an X Airlines facility, featuring XX, X's subsidiary. There was also a small spot on the end of the counter for Y's subsidiary, YY
The entire ticket/service counter is approximately 35' long. 75% of that space is taken up by X. The lone ticket agent (or what ever) was a young woman in her early to mid twenties. Her short blond hair was stringy and dirty looking. Her make up was in pretty sorry shape and she looked like she'd slept in her uniform (on the ground) for 2 or 3 nights. She had bread, I think it was, crammed between all the teeth that showed and her deodorant had given up the struggle long ago, leaving behind huge perspiration stains. There was a small girl child of 4 or 5 years tugging at this young ladies uniform (I could only assume they were mother and daughter) and screaming, "Moma, Moma, I gotta PEE!
The child's hair was the same color blonde but more curly and longer. It was a mess. Small mammals could have been living in there. Her face sported a 2 or 3 day accumulation of dried dirt and snot and she was holding herself and yelling to beat the band how badly she had to go to the bathroom. Her mother was yelling right back at her, "Can't you see I'm working here? Just hold it till I get my break!"
I checked in when it was my turn and went and sat down with my daughter to wait for departure. I told her she needn't wait but she said she wanted to. So...we were having a nice visit when the announcement came that my flight would be delayed for an hour and a half. We decided to go eat breakfast.
When we returned to the airport I went to the counter and waited in a lengthy line to inquired as to my flight's status. While shaking the leg with the whining child hanging onto it she looked me dead in the eye and told me that the delay time had increased by one hour. I sent my daughter on her way and settled in for the wait. Now, this was all in the days before cell phones and I was having to call home with each new setback. I was to go into Dallas and fly on a real airplane (X, 727) to Houston where my wife was to pick me up. I was sweating the connection, still unaware of the downward spiral I was in...would I make it, or would I not??
I was just starting to get really antsy when the announcement came that my flight was cancelled. Every one in the joint must have been on that flight because in the next instant seemingly every one in the place was mobbing the little end of the counter with the Y subsidiary. I fought my way to the counter and got booked on a flight to Houston that left two hours from then. When I got that sorted out I moved along the counter into the space for XX and happened to notice out the window that there was a plane on the pad that had about a dozen guys working on it. Do you remember the old tv show from the '50s SKY KING? It was a plane just like that. A twin engine job and they had the cowling off both engines. There were parts and tools scattered all over the ground under both wings. Tempers were running hot too, as the guys were hollering at each other an nobody seemed to know what was going on. There were several extension cords going in through the side door and up into the cockpit. I asked the young mother if that was the plane that I was supposed to be flying on. She said that it was and that it would be ready "soon".
A cold shiver ran up my spine as I counted myself lucky. I'll be HAPPY to wait a few more hours if it will keep me off that hunka junka.With only about a half hour to wait, the announcement came that the original plane had been repaired and was going to be departing 5 minutes sooner than my new plane. We had the option to stay like we were or go out on the original flight. I thought that over for about half a second and decided to stay like I was.
Shortly I watched the original plane take off and silently wished all aboard GOOD LUCK! They called my flight and when the plane pulled around in to view my heart sank. It was another twin engine plane only a lot smaller and if anything, looked older. The cock pit had a pilot seat and a seat for the copilot. The entry way into the cockpit had no door in it. There were 19 passenger seats, 9 on one side and 10 on the other. We all had to duck way down to walk the length of the plane. You can forget about any such thing as a flight attendant.
We took off, climbed to cruising altitude and leveled off. The plane ride was extremely bumpy. All I could see of the pilot, from where I was sitting, was his right arm and he had it out in the doorway and was holding a cup of coffee, The copilot had his left arm extended into the doorway as well and he also was holding a cup of coffee. The coffee was sloshing around and spilling on the floor and soon both cups were empty. The guy across the aisle and I just looked at each other and I expect he was as uncomfortable and worried as I was.
Interestingly enough, the pilot made the announcement that we were passing the flight that left before we did, I looked out my window and down at the "SKY KING SPECIAL" as we passed over it. It seemed to be struggling. I looked away and silently repeated my previous prayer for the safety of all aboard.
We landed in Dallas and, although I despise DFW, I was overjoyed to be there. I checked in at the X Airlines counter and was told that due to rough weather in New York, the origin of my flight to Houston, we were delayed by an hour and fifteen minutes.
So it's one more phone call to home.
Just to add to the aggravation and tension, there were 4 rowdy children in the waiting area who's parents were either not present or not interested in the mental health of the other people waiting for their flight. These kids were about 8 to 11 years old and running wildly and noisily all over the waiting area. I was beginning to wonder if I was going to be able to maintain proper deportment long enough to get home. I mean come on, a room full of sadistic comedians could not have written a worse script here.
Finally, our flight was announced. I was in line and the pilot was standing there at the entrance to the jetway urging folks along and when I got up next to him he put his hand in the middle of my back and gave me a shove, saying, "Alright people, we've got a lot of time to make up. Lets move on along now." I turned on him and calmly told him that it was not my fault the plane was running late and that if he touched me again that neither one of us'd never make it onto the plane. I must have had a heck of an expression because he dropped his eyes and walked back up the line. When I got on the plane he was there and gave me a look. I halfway expected to have the cops yank me off the plane and clap me in irons. At that point I didn't really care. All I wanted was to get home, failing that, to cause grievous bodily harm to the next X Airlines employee that I encountered.
Dallas to Houston is about a 35 minute flight. You take off, you climb to altitude, and the you immediately begin your decent to your approach to Dallas. I needed a drink badly so I ordered a double bloody mary. When the flight attendant handed me the drink we were still gaining altitude and the nose of the plain was pointing almost straight up. After the "hand-off" I noticed the flight attendant still standing there, arm extended, hand open, to receive the empty glass. She told me to go ahead and knock it back, that we were about to land. No problem...chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug, and here ya go, and thanks!
When we touched down in Houston I was about half a heartbeat from killin' some one. I saw my wife waiting and I just melted into a puddle of relief and gratitude. One hug and I was back to normal...mostly. She asked why I was so quiet on the way home but it was a few days before I could talk about it. See, if I'm going to get jerked around, even for a whole day...If I'm going to encounter one problem after another and if the day is a loss, I do a LOT better if I know it up front. This moment to moment thing get's me hot. There'll be a short delay....Sorry sir, the delay will be a little bit longer....sorry sir you're canceled...Sorry sir there will be yet one more delay...sorry...and so on. Grrrrrr!
I wrote a letter to X Airlines and asked my wife to read it and see if my language may have been a little too strong. She read it and told me that before I mailed it I ought to hire a lawyer. I put it down and went back to it the next day and reread it. I'm sure glad I did because the best thing that could have happened was that I'd be dismissed as a kook or crack pot. I guarantee that a letter like that in today's world of homeland security, etc, would get you locked up before you knew what was happening.
I never did find out if that other plane made it to Houston or not and I hope that the little girl in Lawton finally got to go to the bathroom before she had an accident. And I hope that both she and her mom got to spend a little time on personal hygiene before the sun rose and set too many more time.
Now you know why...I HATE TO FLY!
Oh and I still have my stamps flying into and out of Bagdad.
