Travel trauma
The worst thing about travelling is travelling.
I won’t blame the cramped seats on any one airline. You’ve heard it all before, so I won’t bore you with complaining about reality; if you want to fly anywhere these days you either suck it up or go first class.
Tempers were short. A desperate man ahead of us decided this guy was trying to trick us and a little racket broke out. By now we were getting glimpses of the scattered person in Air Canada garb, talking to each other, but not a word to us.
However I am still slightly traumatized by the on-ground events of trying to get home.
I have read or heard of so many horror stories about the customer service, i.e., lack thereof, of Air Canada, that to tell you the truth, I think I was a bit desensitized about it all. Well, I can’t resist seeing your horror story and raising you one.
It started at noon on Monday. Picture Newman and me, two specimens at bit past our prime, in a mass of humanity too huge to count, of all ages, shapes, sizes and conditions, on our feet, shuffling along, filling corridors with U-turns, just trying to get a baggage tag.
We all heard the announcements about the computers being down, hence the backlog, but not once did an Air Canada rep come down the line, updating us with any information. The few we saw scuttled past us averting their eyes in case someone asked them a question.
After almost two hours we handed our bag over and then joined another line to get through security. It took the security agent to tell us our flight had been cancelled, and to direct us to Air Canada customer service on the lower floor.
Endless lineup
We stood at the top of the escalator, looking down at another line 10 deep, stretching so far that we couldn’t see the end. There were two customer service desks open. After another couple of hours, we were bonding with the people around us. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone somewhere on that line up got engaged or divorced. I wondered if the woman from the line upstairs had her baby.
A fellow sufferer came down the line telling us that if we ever got to the desk they would send us to another desk upstairs, so we should just go now. A quandary; do we believe him? He wasn’t an official of any sort, just a guy saying he was passing along his own experience. Do we risk getting out of the line we’ve already been in for two hours?
Tempers were short. A desperate man ahead of us decided this guy was trying to trick us and a little racket broke out. By now we were getting glimpses of the scattered person in Air Canada garb, talking to each other, but not a word to us. I went up and button-holed one of them who confirmed that they had opened more customer service desks on another level. Our group had a quick huddle and five of us took off.
By now things were so bad that we actually reminded me of the little group who left the Donner party (a group of American pioneers led by George Donner and James F. Reed who set out for California in a wagon train in May 1846. They were delayed by a series of mishaps and mistakes and spent the winter of 1846–47 snowbound in the Sierra Nevada — Wikipedia.) But it didn’t matter. It was every man for himself.
Some situations are unavoidable. It’s how you handle them that makes the difference.
Insult to injury
Picture five of us racing to the third floor to find another line as long as the one we’d left. An announcement encouraged us to go online or use a designated bank of phones “free of charge” to rebook. Good luck trying to get through and being granted use of the phones “free of charge” added insult to injury.
After six hours of the cattle drive, Newman and I were told we couldn’t get out until Wednesday and because we had overnighted in Toronto (the connections being ungodly hours), this was considered the origin of our journey and we were not entitled to any compensation for accommodation or food.
Some situations are unavoidable. It’s how you handle them that makes the difference. Having agents going up and down lines, keeping people informed, and, not to be too radical, offering some assistance to people like a young mother with three small children and people with physical problems, is not rocket science. It is respect for the human beings who are your customers.
I hope this isn’t too disjointed; I should recover in a day or two.
Janice Wells lives in St. John’s. She can be reached at janicew@nf.sympatico.ca.