Dear United Airlines ... Well Done. From DFW to SFO in Just under Two Days

[From a letter I wrote to United Airlines after a tiring journey in early January from DFW to SFO. ]

Jan. 11, 2008

Dear United Airlines,

I recently had a Planes, Trains, and Automobiles experience on your airline. If you’re unfamiliar with the tale, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles is an 80s movie starring John Candy and Steve Martin. Martin’s plight to return home for the holidays was stymied by a series of comical and uncanny events. For instance, his plane was canceled due to bad weather. Thereafter, every mode of transportation fails him. In the end, Martin, who portrays a meek and good-humored man, turns maniacal due to his frantic journey.

Which leads me to my recent United trip on Sat., Jan. 6, 2008. Like Martin, I underwent a series of un-replicable circumstances on your airline. But unlike Martin, my experiences were completely real.

Flight 1247 – Non-Stop Flight from DFW to SFO
Scheduled departure: 7:09 a.m. CST
Scheduled arrival: 9:03 a.m. PST
Outcome: Cancelled

My day started at 5 a.m. CST, when my mom drove me to the DFW airport, where I was scheduled to depart on United flight 1247 at 7:09 a.m. to SFO. I payed extra for a non-stop flight to avoid weather delays and erratic (which has become typical) airline behavior. But to my chagrin, the fiasco unravelled anyway.

At 6:45 a.m. CST, I boarded flight 1247 to what seemed to be a pleasant journey. Weather in Dallas and San Francisco were fair. But at departure time, the pilot broadcasted a problem with a light in the cockpit, “Please wait patiently folks while maintenance arrives.” I waited patiently.

Thirty minutes later, the pilot announced, “Folks, I’ve never had this problem before, but it now appears that the laboratories are not working. Stay tuned.” Tuned, I stayed. Subsequent announcements barked less optimism as the pilot and the United crew continued to tamper with the light-cum-laboratory problem. “We’ll hold it,” one passenger barked back. “Give me a plunger and a gallon of drano and let’s move,” spoke another. No one heeded our pleads. In the end, after two hours holding our stead and our bladders, flight 1247 was cancelled.

Anticipating the cancellation, I had called in to an agent (after being granted cell phone usage) during my wait on the tarmac to reserve the next flight out to SFO, with a short layover in LAX. I scuttled off the plane and beat the crowds to the ticket counter to confirm the reservation (where an angry passenger was disputing the 57-lb weight of her bag). As pleasantly as possible, I booked my new flight time, now scheduled to leave in about two hours.

I collected my bags, watched the line of angry passengers grow, and went through security for a second time (removing my laptop, video camera, Docs knee-high boots, earrings, belt, newly bought water bottle, and jackets). And waited.

Flight 6210 (I think)* – DFW to LAX
Scheduled departure: 12:26 p.m. CST
Scheduled arrival: 2:40 p.m. PST
Outcome: Departed 30 minutes late; arrived 30 minutes late

Around noon, I boarded flight 6210 to LAX. A few minutes before departure, a flight attendant came on, “We’ve got a weight problem here. So instead of kicking you off, we’ll try to reshuffle bags. Stay attentive in case one of your bags is moved.” I stayed attentive.

Forty-five minutes later, with the overhead bins stuffed to the gills, we took off. Holy Mary. I had hope again. With my stomach gurgling from pretzels and water (no ice), we arrived in LA.

Flight XXX* – LAX to SFO
Scheduled departure: 4 p.m. PST
Scheduled arrival: around 5ish PST
Outcome: Cancelled

After de-boarding the plane, I made a B-line to the arrival/departure monitors. My eyes scanned the information: San Francisco, departure time 4 p.m., leave from gate A-61; flight status: cancelled. Wha?. Can’t be. I must’ve read it wrong. At times like this, you go through the five stages of grief – denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I was in the denial stage.

I gathered my carry-ons and walked to my intended gate, where I side-stepped a line that spiralled around two ticket desks. Perplexed, I grabbed the first flight attendant I could find and asked what my options were. She wisely said, ”Call United. That’s your best shot."

So I did – albeit ironically. The agent I spoke to over the phone – who had a hint of an Indian accent – said that all flights to San Francisco out of LAX were over-booked. “But would you be willing to fly into Oakland instead?” crooned the agent. Hell yes I would. Book it. And so I booked it – scheduled to leave within the hour. Ahh, just in time for cocktail hour.

But then I remembered my bag - last seen at the Dallas airport. “What about my bag?” I asked. The overseas agent said I’d have to offload it. “Offload it?” I questioned. “Offload it,” he confirmed. “Does that mean I need to recheck it?” I retorted. “Yes, you’ll need to offload it.” Damn. Another pass through security. I started untying my Docs.

But first that meant a stop at the baggage office, where I’d need to reclaim and “offload” my bag. So I went to the baggage desk, where the agent told me that the bag had actually been “re-offed” to Oakland. Splendid.

For a third time that day, I went through security (removing my laptop, video camera, Docs knee-high boots, earrings, belt, newly bought water bottle, and jackets). By this time I’d been at the airport, in the air, or on the tarmac for over 10 hours.

Getting through security, I checked the departure monitors. My flight, flight 689 to Oakland, was air traffic controlled, meaning it wouldn’t get out on time. New scheduled time of departure: 5:30 p.m. PST – a mere 2 hours away. Time passed slowly.

Flight 689* – LAX to Oakland
Scheduled departure: 3:10 p.m. PST
Scheduled arrival: 4:30 pm. PST
Outcome: Departed LAX at 5:30 p.m.; arrived Oakland at 7 pm.

Around 5:20 p.m. PST, I boarded flight 689 to Oakland and touched down 90 minutes later, at 7 p.m. PST - 14 hours since my journey started in Dallas.

At this point, I’d lost all faith in my baggage. My gut told me it wouldn’t be in baggage claim, and my gut was right. So I talked to a baggage agent for the second time that day. She said my bag had made it to San Francisco. But not to worry, they’d delivery it to my house in a few hours.

That night, several cocktail hours later, I got a call from United. I was expecting a call from the baggage department, but instead I got a recorded message that told me that the flight I’d been originally re-scheduled to depart on – after the first flight from DFW to SFO was cancelled - was - in a way that went from ironic to truly wicked – cancelled. I put my head in my hands and downed my drink.

The next morning, my bag still hadn’t arrived. Over the next 24 hours, my husband and I called five different agents, all who gave conflicting stories: that my bag hadn’t been processed, that my bag was on its way, that my bag was processed at 5:20 a.m., that my bag was processed but missing, and that my bag should be picked up at SFO. Finally, 28 hours later, an exhausted driver kindly and unapologetically delivered my bag.

Flight 86 United

And thus, my journey ends – nearly two full days after a simple 3.5-hour non-stop flight between two major airports in good weather began. So you tell me, was it worth the $325 dollars?

Even if I’m not compenstated for this nefarious experience as I should be, even if you don’t at least write back to apologize for your airline’s blunders and my inhumane experience, even if you don’t send me that $50 voucher which one of the agents promised me over the phone (and a part of the story I left out), and even if you never read this completely factual yet unbelievable story, you should at the very least reimburse me for the two water bottles I had to buy and so soon throw away at security – in a non-recyclable receptacle at that!

The price comes out to around $7.50.

*Flight numbers are subject to error. United was unable to track my itinerary due to so many blunders.

Sincerely,

Jenny Parma
1837 Oak St. #7
San Francisco, CA 94117