Sosauce: Average Consumer's Horror Stories Journal

Exposing the NYU Coles Gym!

Tue, 31 Mar 2009 17:40:21 GMT

I'm an NYU grad school alum, so I usually feel a bit of entitlement to be critical of my own school. Because I think I'm an insider and all... But what happened to a group of basketball playing friends and I got me particularly fired up, so here's my tale.

To Preface: As an alum member to the NYU gym, you're allowed to sign in 2 guests per visit for $10 per guest.

My friends and I met up at the front of the Coles gym at around 7pm last, last Wednesday. Some of us were alums and some not, so the alums would sign the guests in. I didn't have to sign anyone in, so I just waited and chatted.

One of my friends who got a guest pass stayed at the door to chat while the person who signed him in went ahead to change. We stayed at the front for maybe 2 minutes, and decided it was time to play some ball. And that's when the trouble started...

According to NYU gym rule, the guest has to be accompanied by the member when he/she goes through security (basically someone checking for IDs at the door). Although this is not very useful rule (the member and guest could be at different parts of the gym, and there is currently no way for the gym staff to know or enforce the rule after people have entered into the gym), this is understandable actually, for security reasons.

As we entered the gym, the security guard gave my friend trouble and asked him to find the person who signed him in. The question itself was ok, but the guard acted as if he was a thug in the movies trying to rob people at gun point. When we tried to tell him what happened, the guard basically pulled one of those DeNiro lines, "Am I talking to you!?"

So our solution was to take the guest pass back, exit the gym, and I'll sign my friend back in. The guest pass would then serve as a receipt so my friend won't have to pay another $10 needlessly. At this point, we were actually cooperating and trying to follow the rules.

Except the guard, or some inexplicable reason, won't give the pass back. He insisted on having us look for the guy who signed the guest in, wanted us to go down to track the person now. NYU gym is not exactly small, and this could take who knows how long.

And at this point, the other ID checker, who was a student, chimed in. No school spirit here. He gave us a smug laugh and told us to look. And for some reason, he told us that we were not only following the rule, we were actually trying to do something shady or sinister.

Finally, the student at guard thought he was being a smart ass, so he called his manager, hoping to get us kicked out. When the manager came, we explained our situation, and the manager let us through without saying much at all! The student and the security guard were embarrassed, but of course gave us the incredulous looks to save face.

Lesson here? Sure. For tasks as mundane as checking people in at the door, it is still about service, and service has to be performed with some degree of reason and compassion, especially when it is a student facility, and the people involved are all affiliated with the same school. Too often, people hide behind the little bit of authority that they get and abuse it, while it takes a lot of encourage to weild power responsibly.

Another lesson here? Sure. The service at NYU gym sucks! We get what we pay for I guess. The gym membership is cheap! And we get basketball courts and an awesome swimming pool.

Two other things to note at NYU Coles:

1. They don't have the ability to give out change... Meaning as a policy, they can't give you 2 $10s for a $20.

2. When you hurt yourself, they don't have ice.

The Third World of NYC

Tue, 24 Jun 2008 22:41:15 GMT

This entry takes you on an exciting (I'm lying. It's more like excruciating) journey through the Third World of NYC - The NYC Tow Pound.

Chapter I - The Setup

One Friday morning, I took a day off to take my little bro James to check out his high school in Rhode Island. I got my car out of the garage and parked on Greene right next to my apartment to help him bring down his luggage (we were spending the night in Rhode Island). I went up and back down in no more than 5 minutes, got my little brother and his luggage. And there he is! A traffic cop standing there writing me up.

Worse yet, he told me that he's towing my car! I looked around. And found the scene to be strange. Wait a minute, there were at least 6 or 7 cars on the street, in front or behind me, all allegedly illegally parked. Why me?

"You're arguing with me! Don't argue!" Said the police guy. "Where is your registration? I need your registration." Oh boy, my registration was still being processed by the California DMV. When it rained, it brewed the perfect storm. So I told him, but he said that they can't find any record in the database. My solution: "How about I pay for the parking ticket here because I need to drive my little brother to Rhode Island for his school orientation?" No dice. Can't believe it. So I stood there watching them call the tow truck, and then watch the toll truck come and tow my car away.

A footnote: I had gotten a ticket before on Mercer, under the same sign, and my car was not towed. I also got a ticket on 35th under the same sign on the day my daughter was born. No tow truck. Go figure... Consistency? Or just NYPD needing to make monthly quotas. I was hopping mad, but gotta keep calm in front of my little brother. Still couldn't help a few f words letting slip. Why bother, he swore more than I did. Time to figure out plan B. Can't think straight, but this is where my better half came in handy. Rental car! Ok, $100 a day, but what can I do! This was start of my descent down to government bureaucracy hell.

Chapter II - Gates of Hell

On Tuesday, I finally had time to bring closure to the matter, so I thought. I called the Tow Pound bright and early. Yep, my car was still there. I told them the entire context, sparing no details. My registration is still being renewed and car got towed, blah blah. So the lady at the Tow Pound told me that since it was my wife's car, I had to get a notarized letter saying that I can pick it up. Say what? Notarized letter? So Yvonne and I found a notary at the 4th bank we visited. Giving Commerce Bank, that 4th bank a plug here because their service was really good.

When I finally got the letter, I headed for the DMV, in a cab no less because the subway pretty much didn't go anywhere near there. As I got there, there was this unkempt dressing guy with a police uniform barely button up, with his gut and stomach hair hanging out. He barely muttered a word and motioned me to the entrance.

Upon entry, it took me 20 minutes to get to the counter. Then another hour and a half before my name was called. Waiting in the tow pound is a sad and mentally debilitating sight. I've been to the morgue once in my life, and this stirred some memories, except this place was hot. You can tell that everyone in there were either numb, defeated, or angry. There was a lady whose car was parked by the hotel valet and got towed, and she had to be in Philly in two hours. Ouch. There was a man asking for a form along with a receipt to show the people who gave him a parking ticket. No luck. There was another girl who got sent there earlier, then was told to go downtown, and then told to come back. After she ran around all day, they told her to wait for another hour and a half. No reward for Pheidippides who just ran from Marathon.

After the hour and a half of eternity, my name was finally called! As I walked up to the window, the lady said, "Well, you don't have your registration (no kidding). We'll have to remove your plate." Ok... "But we can't do that because your notarized letter didn't say that we can remove the plate." Uh... I told her that I called earlier specifically asking for everything I needed. I followed every instruction that was given me. She told me that they didn't explain clearly, and she went to get her manager.

So I moved over to the manager's window. After some long minutes, she appeared. She was a woman of few words, "You need to go back and get another letter specifically saying that you are authorized to remove plate and take the car out of the pound." Isn't that what I was there for!? I started to say something. "You need to..." I knew there was no use. So I went back...

Another 45 minutes later, I got my letter. Took another cab back to the pound. Waited another hour to get my name called. When it was finally called, I had to go through the backdoor to the security area before the garage.

Chapter III - Lost Cause

So I waited, again, at the security office. This place was even worse. Not a single piece of equipment that you would consider "modern," meaning nothing you would recognize in the latter half of last century. There was a huge ledger on a desk, with a lady officer sitting behind. 10 minutes into my wait, I began to look in her direction. She took my gaze, and finally said, "Oh, I'm just waiting for someone to come so I can escort you to your car." Hmmm... This was interesting news, because there was nobody else in sight!

Finally, after some minutes, she decided that she couldn't wait any longer as well. So she led me out the back door to the garage. We were joined by another lost soul looking for her car. And the officer lady decided to look for her car first. Except no one seemed to remember or know where her car was. Oh boy... We searched half the garage, which was huge by the way, before we found it. It was covered in dust because the lost soul lady came to finally claim it after a month. And she promptly started a cussing match with the officer lady because her car was dirty. I was broken in and demoralized at that point.

Now, after the lost soul sped off with us left suffocating in her dusty wake, we finally made our way to my car. The tow truck that I called earlier had arrived. Tow truck? As you would recall, I needed a tow truck to get the car out of the tow pound. Ok, so all I had to do was to remove the plate, pay, and get the heck out. Piece of cake.

Wrong answer. The officer lady and I stood over my car, and she pulled out a couple of screwdrivers of choice. Except there was a minor problem. All of them are way too big for the screws on ANY license plate. So I said, "What do I do now?" She pulled out a ranch... Oh please. Have some mercy. "Can I go find my tow truck guy? He must have screwdrivers I can use. Or can we go look for screwdrivers in this garage?" Her response was: "Nope. You can't go anywhere without supervision, and I can't move anywhere until after I supervised you to remove the plate." "Can you walk with me to the office then?" "Nope." So I stood there and tried to pry the screws loose with the ranch. Took me half an hour.

When I had succeeded in removing my plate, sun was about to set. I made my way back to the office to pay. The tow truck guy was shaking his head, and I was paying him by the hour. To pay? How about waiting for my name to be called. Tick Tuck. Another half an hour flushed down the toilet that held all the lost time. "Howard Tsao, please come to the window."

Ok, as soon as I got in front of the window, the piece of manure of a computer from the 80's broke down right in front of my eyes. The tow truck guy was there as well; mortal sighs from the both of us.

The lady at the counter started to try to do this manually. Task 1: Figure out how many days my car has been in the tow pound. Let's see... Friday morning 10am to Tuesday afternoon 4pm. 4 days and 6 hours maybe? After straining over the form for a while, she turned around to look at the calendar on the wall. Not a good sign. After another while, she went to the back office, disappearing for 5-10 minutes. When she returned, she had a minor epiphany of sorts. "3 days!" Great! I'll take it. Ok, now, we just had to add up the totals. $180 for the tow pound + (3 days x $20/day storage) = $240. She busted out her calculator, wrote her math on the back of the form, crossed it out, rewrote, and $240!

She felt more comfortable with her computer on still, so she switched over to another terminal and booted the computer up. Then, after a 80's style boot up, it was time to pay. I took out my credit card and handed to her. "Sorry, no credit card." What! "Why is that?" "Oh because you're not the official owner of the vehicle." "But I'm just paying for get the car out! And I got two notarized letters saying that I'm authorized to do pretty much whatever I want!" "Sorry, cash or debit." Like I had that much cash on me, so debit it was. After punching in my pin number 3 times, the ordeal was over. Just like that, it was over.

Epilogue: The Math

Towing fee: $180

3 days in the pound: $60

2 days of rental car: $200

Gas total: $60

Cab fare: $50

Parking ticket: $120

Towing out of the pound: $175 (he gave me a deal because I ran out of cash)

Cost to replace my plate: $50

All day rotting at the tow pound for $900: Priceless

The Delta Reparation

Thu, 05 Jun 2008 22:44:39 GMT

Today, I got a letter in the mail from Delta Connection and Comair! In the letter, they tried to explain their position which I already know when I was on the flight. But they did apologize for their crew's behavior, which I appreciate. Although parts of the letter felt a bit boiler plate, it still feels sincere overall, and they also gave me a $100 voucher for a future Delta flight. It's a pretty nice gesture. To me, it shows that they are at least making an effort to make up for bad service.

In the letter, they also promise to take corrective action. If they do take corrective actions to improve their service, I feel like I have done a small part and somewhat mission accomplished. I also have to give Better Business Bureau some credit. They did forward my complaint, and it ended up affecting change. It took 2 months, but it eventually delivered something for the average consumer.

Also, in the one year duration that the voucher is valid, I will actually find a way to donate the flight to someone in need. I'm not in it for the money, and hope this voucher can be of use to someone who needs it.

I am attaching the Delta letter here for your reference, so you can get the unbiased, unfiltered response of Delta service:

Dear Mr. Tsao,

Several weeks ago you contacted the Better Business Bureau regarding your travel experience with Comair on March 12th traveling from Austin to New York. The Bureau, in turn, forwarded your information to Delta Air Lines in Atlanta. Since your travel experience was with Comair, your information was forwarded on to us for further investigation and final response. On behalf of Comair, please accept my apology for the difficulties you experienced in March and for our delay in sending this response. Your patience during this time has been appreciated.

Unfortunately, due to weight and balance restrictions with the aircraft scheduled to operate the flight, it became necessary to re-distribute the weight near the rear of the aircraft. During the course of flight operations it sometimes becomes necessary to re-seat passengers in an attempt to evenly distribute the weight on the plane. Since weather was anticipated en route to New York, the Flight crew requested the Flight Attendant to re-seat those passengers near the rear of the aircraft which would re-distribute and balance the weight. This is done in the interest of safety for all passengers on board. Though I regret the inconvenience this may have caused, I'm certain you will understand the reason why it became necessary. I apologize if our flight crew did not sufficiently explain why they needed to re-seat passengers or if your attempt to assist in the process was miscontrued. We realize that the way our people respond to our customers is what will ultimately determine how our customers will feel about us. I can certainly understand your unfavorable feelings towards the individuals who demonstrated such insensitivity and disregard for your assistance.

Customer Service is the cornerstone of our business, and our Representatives are to provide, courteous and friendly service which is stressed at Comair. I sincerely regret that these standards that we strive so hard to achieve were not provided. I apologize again that we failed you on this aspect of our service. Please know that that I have relayed your comments to the appropriate Manage teams for our crews to ensure corrective measures are taken to ensure better handling in the future.

In the interest of goodwill and in an attempt to apologize for the situation you encountered on March 12th, I have enclosed our Transportation Credit Voucher in the amount of $100.00. The voucher is valid for one year towards the purchase of future travel on Comair, Delta Air Lines or any Delta Connection carrier. the voucher may be redeemed online @ www.delta.com or at any Delta Air Lines ticketing location. Additional information is included with the voucher.

Once again, please accept my apology. Your patronage means a great deal to us and we would appreciate the opportunity to demonstrate the type of service which is more representative of the high standards we seek to maintain.

Sincerely,

Gail Painter,

Customer Relations Manager

Comair, Inc.

Post-Delta Massacre Investigation

Fri, 30 May 2008 22:37:56 GMT

It’s been a while since my Delta Massacre (Customer is Never Right), and I’ve been doing abit of reading up on US domestic air travel. People who read my last entry have been great in offering suggestions onwhat to do. And if you are surprisedabout Delta’s customer servitude, see this article this week on Delta:

Lawyer Sues Delta Air Lines over Delayed Trip, 'Rude' Treatment

The first thing I realize is that in the post-9/11 world inthe US,things are a bit different. I’ve neverbeen that aware of it, but I became acutely aware after my last Deltaflight. The flight crew has more powerover customers. Exactly how much powerI’m still researching, but according to the article below on Southwest of allairlines, flight crew now essentially have legal power and authority to bosscustomers around:

Coffee, tea or handcuffs?

The parts of the Patriot Act that the article refers to aremeant for airlines to provide better security and safety for the passengers,and I would think that the spirit of the law is still taking customer serviceinto account. I either assume wrong, orthe airlines are grossly abusing the law and using it as a way for theiremployees to vent about the crappy jobs on the customers.

Also, the airline, in cost management, ended up contractingthe shorter distance regional routes to sub-contractors, such as Comair. This is a warning sign for me now. If I see sub-contractors, I would be veryleery about taking the flight. As Comairdemonstrated, the quality drop off can be significant. I’m also suspecting that airlines like Delta,maybe for cost reasons or simply not having enough resources to manage thescale, just don’t care as much about how their sub-contractors operate.

And as an average Joe consumer, I tried a number of traveland consumer advocacy sites, and here’s what I had to report:

1. Delta Airline Website: If you try really hard, youwould notice that there is no customer service link on the site. Who can blame them? If they do, I would feel really sorry for theperson who had to go through all the posts. Next I tried to leave a comment on their blog to the customer servicelady in the blog. Every time I tried,the site crashed, and I can’t log back in with the same email. So after 4 tries, after I exhausted all myvalid email addresses, I gave up.

2. Better BusinessBureau: I filed a complaint and got aconfirmation right away. But it wasn’tuntil almost a month later that I received a notice from them saying thatthey’ve passed my complaint to Delta. Then, they were never heard from again.

3. Rickseaney.com(Rick Seaney is a travel insider and a passenger rights advocate): He seems to be pretty knowledgeable, but hestill hasn’t gotten back to me.

4. Airconsumer.ost.dot.gov: No response. I wouldn’t expect otherwise. It’sa government agency.

5. Ombudsman at CondeNast Traveler: I mailed my letter with two 41 cent stamps to theombudsman, but no word.

6. Flyertalk: I just tried to post in the forum, but thesite is really more about rewards, deals, and travel experiences. I couldn’t really find a topic about passengerrights or customer complaints. And if Ipost not in the topic format that they mandate, my attempt just gets anerror…

My conclusion is that, if an average consumer’s case is notsensationally news worthy, like toilet overflowing, or if the consumer is notfiling a lawsuit, the complaints would pretty much get ignored. Just another one in a big pile ofcomplaints. Nobody cares. So the best way to voice dissatisfaction isto get the word out and exercise the one consumer right that we do have – the rightto not purchase or the right to refuse service.

Customer is Never Right

Thu, 13 Mar 2008 05:00:45 GMT

This is a true story about interaction between the flight crew and I on the way back from Austin to NYC. I think the only way to tell this story is to keep it as closely to the original dialog as I can. So I try to recollect the best of I can. And I have 7 witnesses at least to attest to my story.

Delta Connect DL5202, direct flight from Austin to JFK. 3/12/08.

As Sean and I left Austin this morning, though tired, we were pretty giddy. We met some really cool people, and we worked our asses off from 6am in the morning to 12am at night, every night. Naturally, we slept through our alarm and woke up a bit late. We whirlwinded our luggages, threw ourselves at the airport shuttle, and got to the airport 45 minutes before our 9:30am flight. But not to worry, our flight was delayed for 2 hours. I didn't notice the signs, but in hind sight, this was an ominous beginning.

Sean and I did our usual routine, which was to check emails, get breakfast, and do a bit of work. Finally, when 11:30am rolled around, we boarded the plane. This time, 2nd from last row. Felt like a business class upgrade.

As we were on the tarmac, the stewardess came to the back:

"Anyone single (not with a traveling companion)? I need to move you up to the front of the plane now."

The belongings cannot come with.

"We have a load issue."

People were looking around. A what issue? She meant that people need to stuff the front of the plane to keep it balanced during filght. But I really thought, after years of this being an issue, the new planes (we were on one) will no longer put passengers through these sad partings.

"You, move to the front."

And a nice guy that we met at the airport grumpily obliged.

"We need one more. One of you four at the back has to move to the front."

There were four people at the very back (2nd to last row). Sean and I on one side; a couple from England on the other side. In front of Sean and I sat a mom and her daughter.

Everyone hesitated for a moment. Then a lady two rows up said:

"I'll move up. I want to sit in front"

And another gentleman indicated that he is willing to move as well.

Thinking about the situation, I raised my hand and said,

"I have an ide..."

I didn't get to finish my sentence. The stewardess cut me off and repeated, "I need one of you to move."

"I have a solutio..."

The stewardess cut me off again, "If I tell you to move, you move in 5 seconds."

Then, the girl next to me told the stewardess to let them move up, and have the gentleman who was willing to move move back. Issue resolved. The stewardess gave me a stare, a little reprimand, and literally stormed off. People around me were chuckling and shaking their heads. The couple both turned around and gave me the are you ok look. I told them that great thinking on your feet, and they got a good laugh. I found it a bit amusing as well. That was the extent of the first conversation. The stewardess was rude, but I thought that was that. I went back to reading Kafka.

After we were in the air and the plane had leveled off, the stewardess and the steward both came to the back of the plane, standing next to me. The stewardess began:

"If I tell you to do something, I don't want hear another word. The loading problem is an issue with safety. You don't do as you were told. I tell you what to do so we don't delay." And so on.

Actually, the lady was right. The load balancing problem was a safety issue. I was going to tell her that I understood but was trying to give an idea that would benefit everyone, and that I was trying to help. I was just starting to say something, she cut me off.

"I can have you thrown off the plane and get you fined $10,000 if you argue wth me. When I tell you something, you better do it. You are lucky and didn't throw you off the plane and call the police."

At this point, I figured that, although she was really offensive, she was just asserting her authority and under stress.

Sean was already trying to start an argument with her, but I continued:

"I totally understand that this is a safety issue, and I'm in no way trying to interfere with you doing your job, and I was at no point being rude to you. I was just trying to say that, for the lady and the gentleman wanted to move up, we can just move them up, and this way, the couple can move up but still stay together."

She cut me off very rudely at this point and told me again that I do what was told. The way she was talking to me was devoid of reason at this point and very hostile. I don't think I am being biased or am exaggerating. If anything, I am actually more neutral than reality and omitting some of the pretty rude things that she said. This, based on the reaction of everyone around me after the encounter, people can attest.

"I'm just trying to communicate with you, but I guess you are not interested in listening. I'm a customer and not a school child, and I don't think it is right for you to reprimend me this way. And I was just trying to offer a solution to help." She told me that she was going to split people up and move people tothe front, and then do exactly what I proposed. So I said sure. Shestormed off, and that was the end of it, I thought.

You think that this is one sided, and it was! I never lost my temper in tone or body language. I was actually really calm and peaceful, as all 7 witnesses would attest.

After the plane landed, we were one of the last ones to get off the plane, but there were still a few people there. The captain stumped towards me and said,

"Sit down. I need to talk to you. Everyone, get off the plane. You sit down. I need to talk to you."

I told him that it's ok, I'll just stand.

"If you don't sit down right now, I'm going to call the police to arrest you."

I was a bit surprised at this point, so I sat down.

"The stewardess told me that you were billgerent on the plane. You were rude to the staff and if you are ever on my flight again, I'm going to throw you off. Also, you vandalized the plane by putting sticker in the tray."

He actually said more pretty mean things; the quotes are accurate but distilled. He told the steward:

"Check the tray." The steward told him that "the sticker" was gone. "Gone? Did you check everywhere? Are you sure he didn't stick it somewhere?"

The absolute truth under oath was, I had one of my old luggage tag/tape somehow taped to my pants. So I absent mindedly taped it to the back of the tray plastic. The tag was already worn, and it by no means had much sticking ability let alone causing any damage. The steward told me to remove the sticker, and I did. He was sarcastic, but didn't make a big deal about it, but went to tell the captain.

I told the captain that I was just going to listen to what he has to say. After he was finished with the interrogation, I told him that I want to file a complaint. "You want to file a complaint? You were beligerent but you want to file a complaint. Go to the agent and get off my plane."

This finally got to me. "Delta is a shitty airline. I'm sorry that you work for Delta." "That's it, come with me."

So off we go.

At the gate, the captain told right to the agent that I was causing trouble on the plane, and stepped back into the tunnel. "You want to talk to the agent and file a complaint? Come in here. You were rude to me and my staff. I nicely asked you to please sit down, and you blew me off." Did he just say that? He just lied to my face, and I flipped out. I told the agent that he commanded me to sit down, didn't even bother to find out about what's going on, and just started to berate me. Threatening multiple times to call the cops. So call the cops! At this point, I would have a better chance to explain to the cops. I was making a bit of a scene.

The agent say that if I had a complaint, let's sort it out. Ok, so I went into the tunnel. 2 more people went in, and they shut the door. 4 on 1. The captain just started talking before I said anything and told the agent that I was rude, uncoorperative, and biligerent on the plane. He said that I must had something against Delta. Finally after 3 incredulous minutes in my opinion, the captain finished his story, and I had to stand there, listen, and be told not to interrupt. AND I was the one who was supposed to file a complaint! To me, this was pretty classic bullying tactics.

Ok, I told them that I was trying to help by offering a solution that can be successfully implemented in 5 seconds, was not being rule, and did nothing of the sort to try to vandalize the plane. And in my explanation, I was interrupted at least three times. Twice by the captain, and once by another agent. Then the captain said,

"You know, customers are not always right. Times have changed." Too true. Then the agent walked away and told me to wait, and the captain acted like nothing happened and walked away for good. I stood at the gate for minutes before the agent came back.

After that, I told them I just wanted to go. I already wasted a lot of time. If they want to call the cops to arrest me, so be it. I told the agent that I don't want to file a complaint any more because it was probably no use anyways. "Do you have another flight? No? Then you are free to go." "I'll never fly Delta again."

One thing is obvious. I'll never fly Delta again. I will also not file a lawsuit for a complaint because I feel like it is a waste of time and an ultimately he-said, she-said situation. But this was pretty extreme. At some point, even if Delta and its employees do not believe in serving the customers, there should still be a bit of human decency. Perhaps I rubbed them the wrong way initially. Perhaps there was a misunderstanding. Perhaps they were under stress and acted out of desperation of the situation. So they exerted their authority and imposed their will. But after the first and second conversation, when everything was on the table. That should be the end of it. Beyond that point, their aggresion was going too far in my opinion.

At the end, it seems like I'm just powerless to do anything about it ultimately. Just have to take it I guess.

The Endless Delay

Thu, 13 Mar 2008 00:09:25 GMT

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!?