Yesterday Kish and I had one of those star-crossed travel days that make you want to grind your teeth into powder and curse the airlines with your dying breath.
The day began with a 90-minute delay of our flight from Bangor to Philadelphia. OK, no problem — we’d wisely factored in some weather delays, given the fact that we’re in February and it is winter, and we still had plenty of time to make our connection. We got to our gate in Philadelphia, checked the sign and saw that boarding was supposed to start in something like “42 minutes,” and found a seat and camped out. When a plane arrived, everything was looking up.
Then the delay notices and announcements started. First the flight out was delayed by 90 minutes, then another hour. We groaned and went to get something to eat, and when we returned they’d changed the sign above our gate to show that the flight for the new time would be boarding in a new, reassuringly specific time, like in “58 minutes.” They also made an announcement that, due to some kind of special fuel need regulation, they would have to load the plane with additional fuel and, as a result, the flight was oversold due to weight restrictions and some people would need to volunteer to take a later flight. And, still later, a gate agent was actually giving us a kind of play-by-play about the incoming flight, to be arriving from Richmond. First she announced that the incoming flight was at the gate in Richmond, then it had pushed back, and finally it was taxiing down the tarmac, ready to take off.
And then, only moments later and after our hours of waiting in the Philadelphia airport, American abruptly cancelled the flight. Fortunately, we were seated near the gate, so we were able to get in line immediately, where we learned that there were no other flights out and the airline had helpfully booked us for a flight leaving Philly at 1:09 p.m. today. (Hey, thanks, but I actually work for a living and Monday is, regrettably, a work day.) No offer of a hotel room or a voucher, either, apparently because the cancellation was deemed to be “weather related,” even though the weather in Philadelphia was just fine. When we left the gate agent, the line stretched back onto the concourse and was about 40 people long. I was glad we were able to get the bad news quickly, at least.
So we bagged the flight, rented a car and drove from Philadelphia to Columbus. Seven hours, a hefty rental car fee, and an outrageous, state-sanctioned-monopoly-gouging “toll” of more than $33.00 to drive from Philadelphia to New Stanton on the Pennsylvania Turnpike later, we rolled into Columbus shortly past midnight, bitching all the while that if the airline had just cancelled the flight right away or at least been honest with us that a cancellation was likely or even possible, rather than providing absurdly hopeful and totally misleading announcements and impending “boarding times,” we might have gotten home at a more reasonable hour.
I understand weather-related delays in winter, and that with such delays crew schedules can become bollixed and combinations of crew service regulations, maintenance issues, and other considerations can cause a legitimate cancellation. What really galls me, though, is the lying and the misstatements. Why can’t airlines just be honest with us?