My PSA

6/5/10
Location: Grand Forks to Fargo to Minneapolis to D.C.

I have my very own public service announcement for you today: NEVER, ever, fly Delta Airlines if you can help it, e.g. no other possible option is available. I’ve never had a great or even positive experience with Delta before, but today blew every other encounter I’ve had with them out of the water. I woke up at 4:45 A.M. today to get ready for my 7:00 A.M. flight. I was very excited to get to Washington, D.C. as soon as possible, because my new roommates wanted to have dinner together and we were all invited to a party with other college students and interns in our apartment complex this evening. Plus, I have to buy a pillow, toiletries, groceries, etc. after I arrive, and I wanted to get that all taken care of. On the way to the airport from our Grand Forks hotel to GFK with my dad, I get a phone call from a number I do not recognize. It was Delta. A very nice automated message told me that my flight, which was supposed to board in 30-45 minutes, is now cancelled. They kindly “protected” me by rebooking my flight from GFK to MSP at 1:00 P.M., and rescheduled the MSP to DCA flight accordingly as well. Thanks for the notice.

“Great,” I thought, but I figured I would just go in to GFK and I would see what is going on and make sure that my rebooking works. After standing in line for a good 20 minutes behind other ruffled passengers, I finally got to speak with Kristen. Oops, she told me, the 1:00 P.M. flight is way overbooked thanks to Delta’s automated system. The next flight out of Grand Forks to Minneapolis is at 5:00 P.M., putting my arrival in D.C. just after 11:00 P.M. Would I like to do that? It took me about 1.5 seconds to calmly say no, that I absolutely do not want to arrive in the city long after nightfall and try to get all three of my bags there. Kristen told me that was the only option for me unless I wanted to fly out tomorrow, which was of course, a definite no. I asked if Fargo had anything available. She said that there was a 7:30 A.M. flight out of Fargo. I said I don’t think I could make that flight, considering it was about 6:15 A.M. at the time of our conversation. She then said there was also a 10:50 A.M. flight from Fargo. I said I’d take it. I would get to Minneapolis around noon and leave for D.C. at 3:00 P.M. and arrive around 6:40 P.M. Not ideal at all, but the best we could do for the situation. I asked if they were compensating people and if I could get a voucher for my inconvenience. Sure, she replied. She printed me off two meal vouchers: $7 for breakfast and $7 for lunch. “This is it?” I asked. “Yes, that is all I’m allowed to do and that is what everyone has been getting,” she said curtly. I glanced back at the long line behind me and decided I didn’t want to make a scene, so I mumbled OK and took my new boarding passes and measly meal vouchers.

I relayed the info to my dad, who had left to go save his pickup from being towed since he parked somewhere he wasn’t supposed to. My dad had planned to drop me off and then go spray his crops, but now he had to run me back into town to discuss with my mom what we would do to get me to Fargo. My mom was going to drive me to Fargo and then drive herself back home. She was even more upset than my dad and I were at the major wrench Delta threw into our plans, since my younger brother is sick at home and my dog has been ill and in a lot of pain recently. She was infuriated when she heard that all I got was meal vouchers. We switched my luggage from my dad’s pickup to my mom’s Highlander, and my mom and I were off to Fargo. We wanted to be sure I had a seat on that flight, since a lot of other passengers from the 7:00 A.M. flight were going to Fargo as well. On the way, she called Delta since she was sure they do more for compensation for an overbooked flight than meal vouchers. She was right, and my dad headed back to the Grand Forks airport to get the compensation we should have received earlier. They weren’t going to give him anymore than the meal vouchers either, but my dad persisted and asked what a flight from Grand Forks to Fargo costs right now. They begrudgingly gave him that amount as a flight voucher.

My mom and I made it to Hector in record time and I did get a seat on my new flights, although it was a “seat request” pass and I didn’t find out what my seat would be until right before I boarded. We checked my bags, and they gave my mom a gate pass so she could wait with me for a while, as my plane didn’t leave for another couple hours. We read The Forum, and then security finally opened. We removed our shoes and I took out my Macbook and liquids, and proceeded toward the X-ray machine and metal detector.

I had to go through the metal detector three times. The first time I had to remove my scarf. The second time I had to remove my belt. The third time he asked me if I had anymore metal. I showed him my Cobber ring, bracelet, and earrings. That’s all I had, but apparently it was still setting it off, which I can’t believe. He reluctantly waved me through with a look that said, “I’m still not sure about you, but I can’t find anything else you can take off.” But still, that was fine; I understand he is just trying to do his job. Then came the X-ray machine. “Whose backpack is this?” a TSA woman asked. “Mine,” I said. She told me it needs additional screening. Fine by me. I’ve had to do this before on the May seminar and it was no big deal.

Wrong. After 14 flights in a month in a total of eight countries, I never had my bag screened like this. First, she unhooked every snap and plastic buckle on my rugged North Face backpack for seemingly no reason at all, since most of them just hold in the extra straps or are for looks only. Then she unzipped all of the compartments and took almost everything out. “What is this?” she asked of my black jewelry case. I took it with me because I know I’ll want my jewelry in D.C. since I’ll be dressing up everyday, and I wasn’t about to check it and risk losing it. She started to open it sideways. “Careful!” I yelped. “It’s my jewelry.” I had to just watch in horror as she emptied nearly every little compartment of the long case and pulled out my necklaces and earrings onto the stainless steel counter. She rubbed her fingers in every box and then stuffed all of the jewelry haphazardly back in the case. She proceeded to do the same thing to my zippered pouch of charger and USB cords. She then X-rayed everything one more time to be sure I still wasn’t harboring any weapons of any sort, and then finally gave me my stuff back.

I completely understand that TSA has to be vigilant about security, but I was honestly dismayed that my bag was torn apart like that when it had only been looked at and swiped for an explosive test on my international flights. Granted, the security wasn’t Delta’s fault, but it only added to my bad day of flying. Oh, and they also confiscated several items from my mom’s purse and condescendingly informed her that she needed to have a plastic bag for those liquid items and she could not bring her Leatherman tool along. She obviously showed them her gate pass and told them she wasn’t even flying anywhere, she didn’t have a ticket. Did that matter? No.

My mom and I said our goodbyes shortly after and she left, after retrieving her contraband items. I was standing in line for my seat assignment when I met several other passengers who should have been on the Grand Forks flight at 7:00 A.M. as well. One woman and I were discussing our final destinations and the pain it was that Delta cancelled so late. I asked her if she knew why we were cancelled, since Kristen did not tell me. No, she said. She assumed a mechanical problem of some sort. The lady in front of us overheard and turned and smiled. “Oh, no, no,” she said. “They got my husband and I checked in, then when they were checking her in,” she said, pointing to her young daughter, “an error came up. They didn’t know why at first, but then they discovered it.” She paused briefly. “A flight attendant called in sick.”

“You’re kidding!” the other woman exclaimed and I just shook my head. It was so ridiculous and ludicrous that we wanted to laugh, but couldn’t because all of our original trip plans were so destroyed. “Don’t they have subs or something?” the woman I was originally speaking with asked. “Yeah, really, I said. I mean, how many do they even need for a 45 minute flight?” Maybe they only had one, but the fact that at least 30 people (that I saw when I was in GFK, there could be more) had their trip plans and days derailed because of one sick person? Wow.

Well, I am sitting in the Minneapolis airport now, so fingers crossed that Delta manages to get me and all of my bags there! I already have my return flight booked, but after that, there’s no way I’ll ever be flying Delta again.

LATER…

Well, I did finally get to Washington, D.C. around 6:40 P.M. I also did get my bags, and they were not sent to BWI like they did to my good friend Jackie. After retrieving my bags, I took a taxi to my new home for the summer in Arlington. My new apartment is wonderful. It has a spacious, elegantly furnished living room, kitchen, dining area, and two bedrooms and bathrooms. To top it all off, there is a 500 sq. ft. patio that offers a spectacular view of the Washington Monument. I share a bedroom with Whitney, a great friend of mine from college, and the other bedroom is shared by my other two roommates, Anna and Kristi. They are both incredibly nice and I can’t wait for all of the fun the four of us will have this summer! When we are not working, that is, since we are all interns. Speaking of work, I start on Monday. I am excited, but a little nervous, as well. It feels incredibly strange to be living and working in a new city, but in a good way. I’m hoping for the best and am looking forward to what the summer will bring.