Next Time I’m Taking a Boat

The first leg of my journey to Prague for my semester long SIT program began in Orlando.  After many tears I boarded a flight to JFK for a lovely weekend in the city.  On returning to JFK I got dropped off at my terminal, only to be informed that my terminal had been changed.  The airline agent printed out my boarding pass, which said “Standby” on it.  When I asked him what this meant he assured me that I would be able to pick my seat when I got to the gate. An hour waiting to go through security and one shuttle ride later I was relieved to finally be at my gate.  Confidently, I approached the airline agent at the gate, “Hi how are you? I need to pick my seat on the flight.”

She looked at me like I was crazy, “What do you mean?”

“My ticket says Standby?”

“Oh, Yeah, we over booked the flight and you don’t have a seat yet.”

At this point it’s been about four hour since I’ve eaten.  “But I bought a seat on this flight?”

“Yeah… Our partner airlines and websites like Expedia sometimes overbook the flights and there’s nothing we can do about it.  When we start boarding, in like 15 minutes, the computer will randomly generate a list of people who can get on the flight,” she explained a little too nonchalantly.  I think I made her explain the situation to me three different times because it seemed too ridiculous to me.

“So, there’s no way of knowing if I’ll get on the flight?”

“Nope.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“I don’t know, you just better pray you get on.”

Astonished and aggravated I sought out sustenance in the airport terminal.  As a gluten-free vegetarian my options were pretty limited.  I returned defeated and still hungry to my gate, which should have now been boarding.  30 minutes later they began pre-boarding.  The good news was the supervisor was there.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand why I don’t have a seat on this flight.  This is absolutely ridiculous.”

“Did you book through Delta?”

“Yes, I booked my flight three months ago on the Delta website.”  No I didn’t.  “I’m a student and really need to be in Prague tomorrow morning for school.  Is there any chance I’m going to get on this flight?”

“Ok, let me check our system…  I moved you to number one on our standby list.”

“So… does that mean I’m going to get on this flight?”

“I promise you, Ma’am, you will be on this flight.”

After watching three people get on the flight before I did, I began to harass them again to get me on the flight.  Finally, they printed me a ticket.  Two hours of anticipation and six hours without food, I was about to cry tears of relief as I boarded the plane.  The flight attendant was stowing my carry on as I practically skipped to my seat… And someone was sitting in it.  We called over the flight attendant who disappeared with my boarding pass.  For at least 15 minutes, I was left standing in the aisle, delaying the flight from taking off, and hovering over this poor guy.  She never returned.  I only figured out I was being taken off the flight because I saw an airline agent taking my carry on off.

“Umm.. Am I being thrown off this flight?” I asked him rather aggressively.

“Yeah…. We… Ummm… Don’t have a seat for you,” he says, refusing to make eye contact with me.

I began to cry and make a scene.  I wish I could remember what was said, but it felt like it was me versus Delta Air Lines and I was not going to let them treat me this way.  All I remember thinking was  No longer will the little man be crushed and exploited by humanless corporations, I’m fighting for everyone who has ever been treated poorly by an airline, and God I hope no one from my program is on this flight to witness me acting this way.  The drama carried into the hallway. Burning with zeal, babbling incoherently, and frequently crying I was passed from agent to agent because no one wanted to deal with me.  No one would look me in the eyes or explain to me what was going on.  The plane was also having mechanical problems and as a mechanic boarded the plane he whispered to me, “Make them fly you first class.”

Yet another airline agents came up to me.  I told her, “No one is treating me like a human being, I just want someone to look me in the eyes and explain to me what is going on and how I’m getting to Prague.”

“I’m so sorry you are being treated this way.  That’s not right.  I will be right back to help you.”  She never returned.

Eventually, I found myself with the man who originally took me off the flight, who was allegedly trying to help me.  Meanwhile, a girl next to me is silently crying tears of frustration because no one will help her retrieve the cell phone she left on the airplane when they forced her off of it.  It was as if they were purposely being difficult with her.  Clearly, no one was taking me very seriously either, so I took out a pen from my purse and scrap paper.

“Excuse me, what’s your name, Sir?”

“Saad,”  he answered still not making eye contact with me.

“Can you spell that and your last name for me?”  Finally, he looked up, realized I was writing his name down and that I was totally serious.  He spelled his name out for me and I told him,  “I need to be in Prague tomorrow before 5 pm, I am not going to have more than one stop, and I am not flying coach.”  Within 30 minutes I was holding a check for a full refund for my roundtrip ticket and a first class ticket to Dublin and then onto Prague.  Saad then told me that my luggage could not be taken off the flight but it would be at the Delta booth in Prague waiting for me.  I skipped to my gate.  My flight was delayed two hours but at that point I wasn’t about to complain.  I buckled my seatbelt and thought, I won, I beat the airline hahahaha.  Little did I know that Saad would have the last laugh.

I landed in Prague, but my luggage did not.  The Delta Air Lines booth was closed when I arrived even though it was only 3 in the afternoon.  No one at the airport would help me because I didn’t have my original boarding pass, since the flight attendant took it and never returned to give it back to me.  They claimed that without the boarding pass they had no way of figuring out where my luggage was or how to get it to me.  When I saw the lovely SIT coordinator, Lenka, waiting to pick me up, I literally started to cry tears of joy and frustration as I explained the situation to her.  For two days Lenka, my father, and I will all try to work with Delta to find my luggage.  Delta will keep playing games with us, refusing to take responsibility or issue a refund, and shunt us off from one agent to the next.  My luggage is eventually found on a British Airways flight, go figure, to Dublin, then put on a flight to Frankfurt, and finally to Prague.  Three days and many phone calls later I will finally get my luggage.

After all the students had landed in Prague the SIT program director took us out to dinner to meet each other.  As we were introducing ourselves someone said to me, “Hey weren’t you on that flight from JFK to Prague?”