Delta Airlines: A Round Trip Experience

The Departure

Our plane had left the gate in Washington, DC, and I was to fly up to New York City for a conference. I was probably engrossed in the most recent issue of Sky Mall for quite a while before I realized that the plane had been sitting on the tarmac, not moving for at least 15 minutes. I looked around and saw the flight attendant, and she informed me that there were major backups on the runway, and that we would have to wait our turn.

Fair enough, I thought. This was not uncommon and just the nature of air travel. But one hour later, not only had we not moved but there were also no announcements. I again turned to the responsive flight attendant, who apologized for not really knowing the status.

Another hour went by. This is all literal; I promise I’m not exaggerating (anyone who’s flown before knows that no exaggeration is necessary when it comes to airline horror stories). At this point, we had been sitting on the tarmac for over 2 hours. I thought to myself, if we don’t leave in 15 minutes, there’s no point in me even flying up to NYC anymore. I told this to the flight attendant, who asked me more information about it. “Where’s the conference?” she asked. “What time does it start, and what’s the latest it would make sense for you to arrive?” Her questions were obscure, but I humored her and answer them. She excused herself and headed toward the front of the plane.

A few minutes later she returns and says, “Thankfully you spoke up, sir. The pilots now have an urgency reason to tell the control tower … this should allow us to take off shortly.” Before I could gasp out of surprise, the captain announces that we’re next in line for takeoff. I assumed that she was being sarcastic with me, and I asked for clarification. She explained that it was Delta’s policy to prioritize departures based not just on the original departure time but also the priority level of passengers. As a master of the art of subtle sarcasm, I can tell you that she was telling the truth.

The flight attendant then proceeds to tell other passengers around me that I’m the one who deserves credit for the plane finally departing. Naturally, they questioned the absurdity of this, and her basic answer was, “All you had to do was ask.”

The Return

I’m not entirely convinced that overselling flights is a good business decision, but I am happy to volunteer for the voucher when it’s convenient for me.  Needless to say, my return flight was overbooked, and I was selected as a volunteer.  I stood aside while the plane was boarded, eagerly awaiting my $400 voucher, meal ticket, and hotel reservation.  The jet way door shuts, and moments later the plane begins pulling away.

Just like real money, it cannot be replaced if lost.

I continued to wait at the desk while the gate agent radioed back and forth with another individual, sounding like they were arguing about numbers.  The gate agent turned to me, and said that there was actually an open seat and they had miscounted.

They miscounted. How does this happen so often? People have to check in for their flights, and a computer scans each individual boarding pass as passengers board.  If that isn’t enough, the flight attendants walk the aisles a number of times, and I would think that an empty seat on a supposedly oversold flight would be pretty damn obvious.

The plane pulls back up to the gate, the jet way door reopens, and I’m rushed aboard the plane.  As I make my way to the back of the plane, I’m given looks of disgust by other passengers who reasonably assume that I was running late and was responsible for holding up their departure.  I head home with no $400 voucher, no available overheard cargo space, and more personal disgust of airlines.

You can’t make this stuff up.