Journals

Below is a true story of a 12-hour flight delay happened.    Delta Connect direct flight from JFK, NYC to Austin scheduled to leave JFK International Airport at 5:30pm Friday, 3/7/2008.  Flight # DL6474.     Sean and I took the flight out to go to SXSW to promote our underdog site.  Sean and I collected our belongings and left for the airport from Penn Station at 2:30pm and got to the airport and checked in at close to 4pm.  We were then told that the flight was delayed and pushed back until 7:30pm.  Ouch, two hour delay, not too bad, and luckily we were at the airport.  We fought a gate with wireless, got a quick snack, and did our work.  All we had to do is to kill off 3 hours.  We've all done this before.  Not a problem.     We boarded our flight at about 7pm, so far so good!  Well, so we thought.  This is the beginning of the end baby, if that beginning hadn't started 3 hours ago with the delay.    Right before we got on the plane, which was a small, cramped one that seated 4 per row, 2 on each side, we realized that our seat hadn't been assigned.  So we went to the agent to ask, and of course won the lottery - the back row.  Where the seats backs don't budge even if you are a line backer hitting a tackling dummy.  Ok, fine.  Bad break, suck it up and deal with it.    We stuff our tradeshow booth equipments in big bags below the seat, because the overhead bin had barely enough capacity to fit a pineapple, literally.  At this point, Sean and I were like two crawfishes fixed to our seats in permanent crash-landing position.  Everything for the team, for the company, for those at home who depend us to do a good job.  In the name glory, broken backs (no movie reference intended) are the necessary sacrifise.     We were still in our shrimp position on the tarmac, we heard the fireside chat from the announcement speakers:  "Because of weather and heavy air traffic, we will be on the ground for another 1-2 hours."   Ouch, this time, there is no slacking off in the back row.    After we were finally cleared to take off, we heard the friendly voice of the play-by-play annoucer again:  "Because we have a full flight with everyone on board, plus everyone is carrying luggages, we don't have enough fuel to get to Austin."   WHAT!!!  Are you kidding me!!!!!  Is this one of those friendly, patented Southwest Airline jokes!  Wait a minute, this can't be serious.  It was.  For some reason, the great Delta airline, having been in business since my grandma's days, still hadn't figured out how to get from point A to point B with enough fuel.     So what do the passengers get for a four hour delay before the plane's even lifted off?  Crappy, emotionless, unfriendly cookie throwing service from old, tired, battle hardened union workers.  The airline had robbed them of their souls years ago, and they trade customer's misery for mouths to feed and bills to pay.     After 2.5 hours in flight, we landed in Nashville, Tennessee, mecca to country music.  Except on this night, there was no joy in Nashville.  Sitting on the tarmac, we waited for another 1.5 hours for the plane to refuel.  And the captain promised it was only going to be 20 minutes! Shut up, quit whining.  They are doing me a favor just by getting us to our destination in one piece.    At this point, I expected to see grown men cry.  Except I was too tired and battered to care.  In a moment of clarity before I drifted off to sleep, I connected emotionally and physically to the lioness at the Linkin Park, Chicago Zoo, looking beyond a cliff and a fence that she can't cross at the pestering crowd beyond, semi-resigned to life as prisoner 24601.    Finally, at 2:30am, 12 hours after we left, we landed at Austin.  Looking forward to the 3 hour sleep before our first day at the SXSW start.   File a complaint?  Why bother.  Just wasting more time.  No one is listening anyways.  I bet whoever is reading complaint letters at Delta must be having a ball.  Who can believe these stories!?