04-01-2010, 11:43 AM
Good to be home... but what a last adventure! I learned a lot of things. For example...
Colleges now are NOT on the same spring break schedule across the country the way they were when I was a student. I had scheduled to stay in San Diego the week Bob was off school for spring break as I was traveling on an airline employee Buddy Pass and knew I would have trouble getting flights. What I did NOT know is that California was the week after New York and California. That means I was trying to travel in competition with all those low fare, mom & dad have frequent flyer miles and other standby passengers. To add to it all I was flying Delta... not my favorite airline in terms of customer care.
So... I have to get to LAX on Tuesday for a flight to Honolulu at 3 PM. I contact a friend or two and find someone with the day off. That was good because my California friend Karen stood up for me when we got married, but we don't see one another often. A couple hour drive was a good chance to catch up. That part was great fun.
Once we hit LAX and the drop off point for Delta, I was surprised that when at curbside we requested a wheelchair and a porter we were told to "go stand in line for the skycap and they will help you". So not following instructions for drop-off only at the curb, Karen goes and gets in line. I can walk but traveling like this with a large suitcase, one bump and I am on my face. Balance still isn't the best and I just get muscle fatigue. This is evidenced by the chipped tooth I have from a fall in New York. Did I even write about that? Can't get everything in. Once she gets a porter, he comes to the car, gets my bag and says "follow me". Now fortunately I can walk because I can imagine someone just left at their car. He went inside the building showed me to a chair when I got inside and then just walked away with my bag. He came back and asked for my ticket. I showed him my Buddy Pass and itinerary. He left again. 10 minutes.... 15 minutes.... finally he comes back and says "I checked your bag to Honolulu". I point out that I am going to Hilo, that there is only 40 minutes between the two flights if we get in on time AND that I am taking the very last flight to my island so can't miss the plane. He leaves again... this time I see him with an agent at the ticket counter. They go around, she gets on the computer, they shake their heads.... turns out that since I am on a buddy pass for the Delta flight but have a Mileage Fare on Hawaiian, they can not check the bag thru. This makes no sense but then again, it is not only the airline industry but Delta. Another 30 minutes and a lady shows up with a wheelchair. There is another older lady, her daughter and granddaughter sitting next to me. Now they arrived after I did, but that doesn't seem to phase them. The granddaughter is running around, sliding on the floor (she is maybe 4), bumping into people and alternately singing and screaming. Mother and grandmother seem not to find this behavior a problem. When the lady with the wheelchair arrives, they stand and Grandma reaches for the wheel chair. Note she has been to the snack bar, the bathroom and somewhere else I have no idea where on her own two feet with no cane or assistance. Now she is hobbling. Sheesh. The porter calls out "Pam Lamont". I stand and say That's Me. I think she knew that somehow. The daughter started ragging on the porter. "We have waited here half an hour. Our flight leaves in another half hour. We need a wheelchair right now". I was tempted to offer mine and then realized two things; My porter was Delta specific and I had no idea what airline she was flying on.... and it occurred to me that this little group of women needs to learn both manners and how to travel. I kept my mouth shut and got into the wheelchair to their stares and complaints.
The porter's manners were very polite to me but she complained about people acting like that all day. I can see her point, and though one would consider this behavior unprofessional, I reminded myself she was probably getting around $8 an hour and is not a professional. I made polite conversation, agreed that people are unreasonably demanding here in So Calif. and pointed out how peasant and friendly most people are in Hawaii, even on the airlines! I gave her a tip ad she was very thankful. She had, after all, gotten me through security, through a very large terminal and to my gate. Of course, then she had to take the wheelchair, so I was pretty much left on my own. Again for me not a problem, but for others traveling with a need for assistance, not so great. I managed to hang out the two hours (yes, I was early so I didn't have to whine that I couldn't wait for that porter, etc... I figure it is the responsibility of the person traveling to recognize that there may be a few barriers and to allow time). I learned a very valuable lesson that day about Delta. They overbook flights to the extreme. This sets up a problem for travelers because A) book them selves on several flights and B) have to wait for seat assigments until they reach the gate unless they are on a connecting flight.
I waited, watched the process on a large screen TV and observed there was no way I would make the flight as I was moved from position 4 on the wait list to 34... and then 45....on an overbooked flight. It wasn't as bad as it seemed as that wait list contained all those people who had not been assigned seats but paid for a fare so there was room for maybe 34 of them... many were left disgruntled. There was another flight to Honolulu in two more hours. It meant I would have to get a hotel as I would miss the last connecting flight but at least I would be closer. NOT..... this flight was overbooked the same way. This time I spent some time at the podium and discovered that there were at least a dozen people trying to fly on buddy passes and one lady had been at the airport with a 7 year old son for three days. I waited until everyone was pretty much gone after the second flight and then engaged the attendant in conversation. I learned "off the record" that this was Spring Break Week .. news to me until this moment... and that no one with a buddy pass would get on a flight until next week at the soonest. He also said he wasn't allowed to tell me that. Thank goodness he did. Okay now what to do? I ask him where I can get my bag. He looks it up... it went to Honolulu on the first flight even though they knew I would never get on that plane. Okie dokie, at least I have my meds if not a toothbrush. I normally travel with a separate overnight bag, but with my purse and computer bag, that was my maximum allowable carry ons and silly me, I tried to follow the rules. Not a single other person in the airport appeared to be attempting this, much to my surprise. Oh, did I mention that while at the podium for the second flight I inquired quietly if I could just buy a ticket. I was told there was a seat available for purchase. It would cost me $1800 dollars and they would bump someone with a lesser fare. Couldn't do it. Several principles involved here, plus I am too cheap. Back to the now empty seats.
I get out my laptop and figure I will look up flights for the night and the next day. I find out that even though I am willing to pay the $12 fee for wifi, the system is down. Hmmmm. Fortunately, I have patience. I think for a while, phone my son and a friend here in Hawaii and get them to start checking out flight options What I want to know is whether to pay for a taxi and a hotel room (and you know I would never find anything under $200 near LAX with no advance time) or go back to San Diego and fly from there. I think it was that connecting flight comment nagging at me. As it turned out, it cost $150 less to fly from San Diego on a commuter plane, then wait two hours and fly on the exact same flight I had been bumped off than to make the reservation directly from LAX. I had my friend Karen in Hilo make the reservation via priceline... they were the cheapest at the moment at $500 for one way, miserable seat in coach but assigned seating.
Now I have to get back to San Diego. It is around 7 PM California Time.... I have been up since 7 am with 4 hours sleep, am flagging a little but take a deep breath and try to think straight. A flight from LAX to San Diego is $239. Again, this makes no sense but I realize airline prices are not based on any formula of what it costs them to transport you but on what the market will bear and marketing schemes, etc.... Think some more. My friend with whom I stayed in San Diego was at the Paul McCartney concert in LA. I phoned her, left a message and hoped she would get it. Thank goodness one thing went right. They were just entering the stadium, where calls are all blocked. We got a quick "will call you when it's over... no idea when that will be". Deep breath. I can't get to any of the food places in the airport as I am outside security and can't get back through without a ticket. I have a bag of MnM's in my purse (what would you expect) and realized I had only had an OJ in the morning and no food all day. Oh well, other then being cranky and sleepy, I would survive.
This was an opportunity really. In the old days of living in So Cal, we used to go to Disneyland around once a year, not really for the rides but more for some entertainment. Oh, there were the bands and such, but also the fine art of people watching. Sitting in baggage claim in LAX was like Disneyland without the sugar coating. It was crowded. People were bustling from here to there dragging kids and tons of stuff. It completely supported my theory that in So Cal, people are behaving more and more like rats in an overcrowded cage. I watched them bump into one another without an apology or kind word. I saw a woman dragging three kids actually pursue a stranger screaming over some incident in the hallway by the restrooms about someone bumping into someone else. I expected security in on that one and was surprised to find they were nowhere in sight. However, I also noted that travelers from elsewhere (Not those coming home to LA) were much more calm, chatty, at ease. It was a good lesson on why I moved to Puna.
Nodding off and fighting it with MnM's and Altoids for little sugar rushes, my friends phoned and said they were "5 minutes away". I had hidden out inside because I didn't even have a jacket; it was packed. I hit the cold air curbside, found a pillar to lean against to protect me from the people pushing and shoving to get to the shuttle busses and cars and was very relieved to find that silver mercedes minivan thingi pull right up. They had all had the time of their lives, being major fans. One look at me and eeryone piled out of the car and moved everything around to put me in the front seat. They later said it looked like I needed to be strapped in or fall over. Apparently a month in New York had left my complexion unsunned and sallow and the overtired/hungry thing added a component of grey. I hadn't seen a mirror in hours, so I could only imagine!
Amidst the bubble of chat and laughter, we stopped at some fast food or other and I had a fish sandwich. Sounded less greasy than a burger. It got me through the two hour drive home. Of course on the way we had car trouble. I immediately noted that I was a total jinx and that it was probably my fault. Turns out there had just bee repairs done on some sensor for the front stabilizers an it wasn't fixed yet. In the excitement and stupidity of post-concert mentality in a group of musicians, we kept driving. Got everyone home to La Jolla then got back on the road to Bonita, another 30 minutes south. Made it home by 4:30. I looked at the shower, settled for a toothbrush, peeled off my clothes and was handed a nightie by Shaaron. Thankfully I had my own room on this trip so I just melted back into the bed. At 8:30 my alarm went off, I dashed to a hot shower and put my clothes back on. We picked up another friend and headed to the airport within the next hour. Went through the same Delta Discourtesy to get a wheelchair and porter (man, do I respect the set up at Hilo and Honolulu airports!). At this point I need the wheelchair. My knee is swollen and I can hardly walk on it. That is fatigue and will be gone once I get some rest. They finally get me a wheelchair after I nearly fall over a bag some guy tossed in front of me as I tried to take a few steps. Then the guy looks at my ticket. OH. You are going to LAX.. Right I say. Well, Delta flights to LAX don't leave out of the regular Delta terminal. You have to go to the Commuter Terminal. That is about two mile that way (he points). I look at him like he is out of his mind and he looks at me the same way. Clearly he is not going to offer any help. So I finally say "And How do I get there? Do I take a taxi?" He just stands there like I should know then suddenly has a startling thought. He should tell me about the RED BUS. So he says that the RED BUS goes from terminal to terminal taking people who went to the wrong place to the right place. Great. And all I have to do is walk about 1/2 mile to the place where the RED BUS picks us up. Limping now and more than a little frustrated, I schlep my way to the bus stop for the Red Bus feeling like an idiot. At least those feelings were minimized by the six other people who arrived behind me complaining that their tickets didn't say anything about the commuter terminal.
There is no wheelchair assist at the commuter terminal, though there certainly are enough TSA agents to staff the entire Hilo Airport. There are only three gates so this seems excessive but whatever. I am of course moved to secondary and frisked very thoroughly. I am sure I fit someone's profile. Okay, that is totally unfair. My knee sets off all the alarms. We get throu that, I drag myself over to gate #3 which is surprisingly close and take a seat. Even after all this, I am half an hour early. Thank goodness for my anal need to get places early when I can. Then they call us to board. I give my ticket, follow the fellow in front of me and find myself standing out on the tarmac. The wind is blowing, I am tired, my knee hurts and I realize we are going to walk out to the plane.... another quarter mile that looks like three miles.. and then climb up stairs. Of course I am the last one to get there which is good because the whole stairs thing is a challenge with my cane, my purse and my computer bag. One would think that the three Delta flight attendants might offer some assistance but not so. They just watch me struggle and get to my seat. At least there is a seat. Of course it is a commuter plane. No leg room. My leg won't bend at first. It takes a bit to get me into the seat. Finally, success and only a hint of a tear.
The best luck I have all afternoon is that the gate we arrived at was only a short distance from the gate for the next flight, with which I was very familiar by now. I load my purse with two bags of MnM's and a vitamin water just in case. The whole process goes pretty much like yesterday. No courtesy for preboarding at Delta. No consideration of the unbending knee when doing seating. I am in the worst possible seat on the plane.... a middle behind the guys with the emergency exit which is extra space for them and no leg room for us. At least my seat-mates aren't awful. Delta does not provide meals but sells them. That is a riot. For $11 I got a sandwich and some chips. They did give me the pleasure of an orange juice at no charge. By now the fatigue in my leg and back is mounting. I take another muscle relaxer/anti spasm pill. It doesn't do much and my legs are jumping around like a frog every once in a while but I survive. It's a LONG six hours to be sure. I have never seen flight attendants arguing with customers before. Delta really does have a service attitude deficiency. I won't even go into the whole thing with a guy across the aisle being overcharged on his credit card and the ensuing discussion about crediting his card back. UGH. What have we come to?
Once at Honolulu, they manage to get me a wheelchair after I ask twice. I was registered in the seat as needing wheelchair assistance but that apparently isn't enough. You have to whine and complain first. I did neither so it took extra time. I just stayed in my seat and they flight attendants couldn't leave the plane until I did. Not my best moment, but it exacted a little revenge for the indignities my fellow passengers had been subjected to.
I pointed out that I had a tight call for my next flight. That mattered naught. I was wheeled up the breezeway and simply left there at the Delta gate. So were a couple other people in wheelchairs. I finally got a porter who worked for the Hilo Airport, not Delta. He was young, friendly, and ignored the chaos of complaints going on around him. He asked for my ticket, noted that we needed to go to the Hawaiian terminal, and bustled me along. He looked up my gate, took me to the desk to see if anyone could locate my bag (they could but Hawaiian employees were very polite about it) and he took me to my gate to wait for boarding. He apologized for having to switch me into a different wheelchair as Delta requires him to return "their" chair right away. No problem. I give him a nice tip, he gives me a Mahalo and a bright smile and things seem to be becoming right with the world again!
My husband has kindly booked me in a first class seat for the final leg home. No pinching off my knee. No climbing over someone. No strangers elbow in my side. AND Hawaiian had a wheelchair and porter waiting for me when I got off the plane who cheerfully wheeled me down to the baggage claim area, where Hubby Bob met me with a fresh flower Lei the words "I am glad you are home".
Me too!!
I want to be the kind of woman that, when my feet
hit the floor each morning, the devil says
"Oh Crap, She's up!"
Colleges now are NOT on the same spring break schedule across the country the way they were when I was a student. I had scheduled to stay in San Diego the week Bob was off school for spring break as I was traveling on an airline employee Buddy Pass and knew I would have trouble getting flights. What I did NOT know is that California was the week after New York and California. That means I was trying to travel in competition with all those low fare, mom & dad have frequent flyer miles and other standby passengers. To add to it all I was flying Delta... not my favorite airline in terms of customer care.
So... I have to get to LAX on Tuesday for a flight to Honolulu at 3 PM. I contact a friend or two and find someone with the day off. That was good because my California friend Karen stood up for me when we got married, but we don't see one another often. A couple hour drive was a good chance to catch up. That part was great fun.
Once we hit LAX and the drop off point for Delta, I was surprised that when at curbside we requested a wheelchair and a porter we were told to "go stand in line for the skycap and they will help you". So not following instructions for drop-off only at the curb, Karen goes and gets in line. I can walk but traveling like this with a large suitcase, one bump and I am on my face. Balance still isn't the best and I just get muscle fatigue. This is evidenced by the chipped tooth I have from a fall in New York. Did I even write about that? Can't get everything in. Once she gets a porter, he comes to the car, gets my bag and says "follow me". Now fortunately I can walk because I can imagine someone just left at their car. He went inside the building showed me to a chair when I got inside and then just walked away with my bag. He came back and asked for my ticket. I showed him my Buddy Pass and itinerary. He left again. 10 minutes.... 15 minutes.... finally he comes back and says "I checked your bag to Honolulu". I point out that I am going to Hilo, that there is only 40 minutes between the two flights if we get in on time AND that I am taking the very last flight to my island so can't miss the plane. He leaves again... this time I see him with an agent at the ticket counter. They go around, she gets on the computer, they shake their heads.... turns out that since I am on a buddy pass for the Delta flight but have a Mileage Fare on Hawaiian, they can not check the bag thru. This makes no sense but then again, it is not only the airline industry but Delta. Another 30 minutes and a lady shows up with a wheelchair. There is another older lady, her daughter and granddaughter sitting next to me. Now they arrived after I did, but that doesn't seem to phase them. The granddaughter is running around, sliding on the floor (she is maybe 4), bumping into people and alternately singing and screaming. Mother and grandmother seem not to find this behavior a problem. When the lady with the wheelchair arrives, they stand and Grandma reaches for the wheel chair. Note she has been to the snack bar, the bathroom and somewhere else I have no idea where on her own two feet with no cane or assistance. Now she is hobbling. Sheesh. The porter calls out "Pam Lamont". I stand and say That's Me. I think she knew that somehow. The daughter started ragging on the porter. "We have waited here half an hour. Our flight leaves in another half hour. We need a wheelchair right now". I was tempted to offer mine and then realized two things; My porter was Delta specific and I had no idea what airline she was flying on.... and it occurred to me that this little group of women needs to learn both manners and how to travel. I kept my mouth shut and got into the wheelchair to their stares and complaints.
The porter's manners were very polite to me but she complained about people acting like that all day. I can see her point, and though one would consider this behavior unprofessional, I reminded myself she was probably getting around $8 an hour and is not a professional. I made polite conversation, agreed that people are unreasonably demanding here in So Calif. and pointed out how peasant and friendly most people are in Hawaii, even on the airlines! I gave her a tip ad she was very thankful. She had, after all, gotten me through security, through a very large terminal and to my gate. Of course, then she had to take the wheelchair, so I was pretty much left on my own. Again for me not a problem, but for others traveling with a need for assistance, not so great. I managed to hang out the two hours (yes, I was early so I didn't have to whine that I couldn't wait for that porter, etc... I figure it is the responsibility of the person traveling to recognize that there may be a few barriers and to allow time). I learned a very valuable lesson that day about Delta. They overbook flights to the extreme. This sets up a problem for travelers because A) book them selves on several flights and B) have to wait for seat assigments until they reach the gate unless they are on a connecting flight.
I waited, watched the process on a large screen TV and observed there was no way I would make the flight as I was moved from position 4 on the wait list to 34... and then 45....on an overbooked flight. It wasn't as bad as it seemed as that wait list contained all those people who had not been assigned seats but paid for a fare so there was room for maybe 34 of them... many were left disgruntled. There was another flight to Honolulu in two more hours. It meant I would have to get a hotel as I would miss the last connecting flight but at least I would be closer. NOT..... this flight was overbooked the same way. This time I spent some time at the podium and discovered that there were at least a dozen people trying to fly on buddy passes and one lady had been at the airport with a 7 year old son for three days. I waited until everyone was pretty much gone after the second flight and then engaged the attendant in conversation. I learned "off the record" that this was Spring Break Week .. news to me until this moment... and that no one with a buddy pass would get on a flight until next week at the soonest. He also said he wasn't allowed to tell me that. Thank goodness he did. Okay now what to do? I ask him where I can get my bag. He looks it up... it went to Honolulu on the first flight even though they knew I would never get on that plane. Okie dokie, at least I have my meds if not a toothbrush. I normally travel with a separate overnight bag, but with my purse and computer bag, that was my maximum allowable carry ons and silly me, I tried to follow the rules. Not a single other person in the airport appeared to be attempting this, much to my surprise. Oh, did I mention that while at the podium for the second flight I inquired quietly if I could just buy a ticket. I was told there was a seat available for purchase. It would cost me $1800 dollars and they would bump someone with a lesser fare. Couldn't do it. Several principles involved here, plus I am too cheap. Back to the now empty seats.
I get out my laptop and figure I will look up flights for the night and the next day. I find out that even though I am willing to pay the $12 fee for wifi, the system is down. Hmmmm. Fortunately, I have patience. I think for a while, phone my son and a friend here in Hawaii and get them to start checking out flight options What I want to know is whether to pay for a taxi and a hotel room (and you know I would never find anything under $200 near LAX with no advance time) or go back to San Diego and fly from there. I think it was that connecting flight comment nagging at me. As it turned out, it cost $150 less to fly from San Diego on a commuter plane, then wait two hours and fly on the exact same flight I had been bumped off than to make the reservation directly from LAX. I had my friend Karen in Hilo make the reservation via priceline... they were the cheapest at the moment at $500 for one way, miserable seat in coach but assigned seating.
Now I have to get back to San Diego. It is around 7 PM California Time.... I have been up since 7 am with 4 hours sleep, am flagging a little but take a deep breath and try to think straight. A flight from LAX to San Diego is $239. Again, this makes no sense but I realize airline prices are not based on any formula of what it costs them to transport you but on what the market will bear and marketing schemes, etc.... Think some more. My friend with whom I stayed in San Diego was at the Paul McCartney concert in LA. I phoned her, left a message and hoped she would get it. Thank goodness one thing went right. They were just entering the stadium, where calls are all blocked. We got a quick "will call you when it's over... no idea when that will be". Deep breath. I can't get to any of the food places in the airport as I am outside security and can't get back through without a ticket. I have a bag of MnM's in my purse (what would you expect) and realized I had only had an OJ in the morning and no food all day. Oh well, other then being cranky and sleepy, I would survive.
This was an opportunity really. In the old days of living in So Cal, we used to go to Disneyland around once a year, not really for the rides but more for some entertainment. Oh, there were the bands and such, but also the fine art of people watching. Sitting in baggage claim in LAX was like Disneyland without the sugar coating. It was crowded. People were bustling from here to there dragging kids and tons of stuff. It completely supported my theory that in So Cal, people are behaving more and more like rats in an overcrowded cage. I watched them bump into one another without an apology or kind word. I saw a woman dragging three kids actually pursue a stranger screaming over some incident in the hallway by the restrooms about someone bumping into someone else. I expected security in on that one and was surprised to find they were nowhere in sight. However, I also noted that travelers from elsewhere (Not those coming home to LA) were much more calm, chatty, at ease. It was a good lesson on why I moved to Puna.
Nodding off and fighting it with MnM's and Altoids for little sugar rushes, my friends phoned and said they were "5 minutes away". I had hidden out inside because I didn't even have a jacket; it was packed. I hit the cold air curbside, found a pillar to lean against to protect me from the people pushing and shoving to get to the shuttle busses and cars and was very relieved to find that silver mercedes minivan thingi pull right up. They had all had the time of their lives, being major fans. One look at me and eeryone piled out of the car and moved everything around to put me in the front seat. They later said it looked like I needed to be strapped in or fall over. Apparently a month in New York had left my complexion unsunned and sallow and the overtired/hungry thing added a component of grey. I hadn't seen a mirror in hours, so I could only imagine!
Amidst the bubble of chat and laughter, we stopped at some fast food or other and I had a fish sandwich. Sounded less greasy than a burger. It got me through the two hour drive home. Of course on the way we had car trouble. I immediately noted that I was a total jinx and that it was probably my fault. Turns out there had just bee repairs done on some sensor for the front stabilizers an it wasn't fixed yet. In the excitement and stupidity of post-concert mentality in a group of musicians, we kept driving. Got everyone home to La Jolla then got back on the road to Bonita, another 30 minutes south. Made it home by 4:30. I looked at the shower, settled for a toothbrush, peeled off my clothes and was handed a nightie by Shaaron. Thankfully I had my own room on this trip so I just melted back into the bed. At 8:30 my alarm went off, I dashed to a hot shower and put my clothes back on. We picked up another friend and headed to the airport within the next hour. Went through the same Delta Discourtesy to get a wheelchair and porter (man, do I respect the set up at Hilo and Honolulu airports!). At this point I need the wheelchair. My knee is swollen and I can hardly walk on it. That is fatigue and will be gone once I get some rest. They finally get me a wheelchair after I nearly fall over a bag some guy tossed in front of me as I tried to take a few steps. Then the guy looks at my ticket. OH. You are going to LAX.. Right I say. Well, Delta flights to LAX don't leave out of the regular Delta terminal. You have to go to the Commuter Terminal. That is about two mile that way (he points). I look at him like he is out of his mind and he looks at me the same way. Clearly he is not going to offer any help. So I finally say "And How do I get there? Do I take a taxi?" He just stands there like I should know then suddenly has a startling thought. He should tell me about the RED BUS. So he says that the RED BUS goes from terminal to terminal taking people who went to the wrong place to the right place. Great. And all I have to do is walk about 1/2 mile to the place where the RED BUS picks us up. Limping now and more than a little frustrated, I schlep my way to the bus stop for the Red Bus feeling like an idiot. At least those feelings were minimized by the six other people who arrived behind me complaining that their tickets didn't say anything about the commuter terminal.
There is no wheelchair assist at the commuter terminal, though there certainly are enough TSA agents to staff the entire Hilo Airport. There are only three gates so this seems excessive but whatever. I am of course moved to secondary and frisked very thoroughly. I am sure I fit someone's profile. Okay, that is totally unfair. My knee sets off all the alarms. We get throu that, I drag myself over to gate #3 which is surprisingly close and take a seat. Even after all this, I am half an hour early. Thank goodness for my anal need to get places early when I can. Then they call us to board. I give my ticket, follow the fellow in front of me and find myself standing out on the tarmac. The wind is blowing, I am tired, my knee hurts and I realize we are going to walk out to the plane.... another quarter mile that looks like three miles.. and then climb up stairs. Of course I am the last one to get there which is good because the whole stairs thing is a challenge with my cane, my purse and my computer bag. One would think that the three Delta flight attendants might offer some assistance but not so. They just watch me struggle and get to my seat. At least there is a seat. Of course it is a commuter plane. No leg room. My leg won't bend at first. It takes a bit to get me into the seat. Finally, success and only a hint of a tear.
The best luck I have all afternoon is that the gate we arrived at was only a short distance from the gate for the next flight, with which I was very familiar by now. I load my purse with two bags of MnM's and a vitamin water just in case. The whole process goes pretty much like yesterday. No courtesy for preboarding at Delta. No consideration of the unbending knee when doing seating. I am in the worst possible seat on the plane.... a middle behind the guys with the emergency exit which is extra space for them and no leg room for us. At least my seat-mates aren't awful. Delta does not provide meals but sells them. That is a riot. For $11 I got a sandwich and some chips. They did give me the pleasure of an orange juice at no charge. By now the fatigue in my leg and back is mounting. I take another muscle relaxer/anti spasm pill. It doesn't do much and my legs are jumping around like a frog every once in a while but I survive. It's a LONG six hours to be sure. I have never seen flight attendants arguing with customers before. Delta really does have a service attitude deficiency. I won't even go into the whole thing with a guy across the aisle being overcharged on his credit card and the ensuing discussion about crediting his card back. UGH. What have we come to?
Once at Honolulu, they manage to get me a wheelchair after I ask twice. I was registered in the seat as needing wheelchair assistance but that apparently isn't enough. You have to whine and complain first. I did neither so it took extra time. I just stayed in my seat and they flight attendants couldn't leave the plane until I did. Not my best moment, but it exacted a little revenge for the indignities my fellow passengers had been subjected to.
I pointed out that I had a tight call for my next flight. That mattered naught. I was wheeled up the breezeway and simply left there at the Delta gate. So were a couple other people in wheelchairs. I finally got a porter who worked for the Hilo Airport, not Delta. He was young, friendly, and ignored the chaos of complaints going on around him. He asked for my ticket, noted that we needed to go to the Hawaiian terminal, and bustled me along. He looked up my gate, took me to the desk to see if anyone could locate my bag (they could but Hawaiian employees were very polite about it) and he took me to my gate to wait for boarding. He apologized for having to switch me into a different wheelchair as Delta requires him to return "their" chair right away. No problem. I give him a nice tip, he gives me a Mahalo and a bright smile and things seem to be becoming right with the world again!
My husband has kindly booked me in a first class seat for the final leg home. No pinching off my knee. No climbing over someone. No strangers elbow in my side. AND Hawaiian had a wheelchair and porter waiting for me when I got off the plane who cheerfully wheeled me down to the baggage claim area, where Hubby Bob met me with a fresh flower Lei the words "I am glad you are home".
Me too!!
I want to be the kind of woman that, when my feet
hit the floor each morning, the devil says
"Oh Crap, She's up!"
I want to be the kind of woman that, when my feet
hit the floor each morning, the devil says
"Oh Crap, She's up!"
hit the floor each morning, the devil says
"Oh Crap, She's up!"