“If you’re traveling this summer, you better hope that you don’t need help from an airline.” — Mac Schwerin, “Somehow, Airline Customer Service Is Getting Even Worse,” in The Atlantic.
And yet people wonder why I refuse to fly the unfriendly skies.
Last evening Herself and I — from the Minneapolis–Saint Paul International Airport and The Duck! City, respectively — were watching her scheduled departure time shift from 6:35 p.m. Minneapolis time to 8:13, then 10 … and finally right off the clock entirely. Mickey’s big hand gave us the finger. Canceled. Sorry ’bout that.
According to FlightAware, the Delta aircraft headed her way from Maine was delayed more than four hours before finally taking off just before 6 p.m. Duck! City time — whether it had been in Maine all that time is anybody’s guess, as is where it was actually headed once it left the Pine Tree State — and for a while there it was looking like she still had a chance of getting home by stupid-thirty Tuesday morning.
But nix. No wheels up for you, toots. Go stand in line with the other poor saps to learn nothing useful from a Delta agent. Word on the concourse was that all Delta flights for Tuesday were already full up, and there might not be a seat available until Thursday. Yikes, etc.
So I book her a room at the nearby Hilton Minneapolis-St. Paul Airport … after which she decides to rent a seat on a Southwest flight to The Duck! City via Phoenix leaving at 5:35 a.m.
This means being at the Minneapolis airport by 3:35 a.m. for check-in, so there’s no point in cabbing it to the Hilton for a $200 wash and brush-up and then heading right back to the airport for another beating.
So I go to cancel that room … only Hilton won’t let me do it online for some mysterious reason known only to the servo-bots running the Hilton website. So I have to call and speak to an actual human being. How 20th century of them.
Happily, the obsolete meat-things prove friendly, efficient and helpful — tip of the Mad Dog Rivendell cap to Alicia working the front desk in Minneapolis — and the room is canceled without penalty, leaving Herself at liberty to wander aimlessly through the Minneapolis–Saint Paul International Airport dragging Old Pinkie, her battle-scarred, doughty rolling suitcase, which Delta did not send to Tierra del Fuego, Ukraine, or the Event Horizon in orbit around Neptune.
Now, some might say that looking to Southwest for salvation is like hailing a passing shark to take you from the Titanic to that iceberg over there. And I am one of them.
But at least those pirates finally got her and Old Pinkie off the deck and into the air. If only to Sky Harbor. Happily, they have Hiltons in Phoenix too.
• Editor’s note: Yes, I read about the weather nightmares, traffic-control problems, and the overheating cable at Ronnie Raygun Intergalactic Airport. Thousands of flights delayed or canceled. And like Mac Schwerin I appreciate the complexities of arranging air travel. (“Delta flies something like the population of Sacramento every day, on average.”) But still, you’d think Someone in Authority might empower the boots on the ground at the Delta counter to grab a hot mic and shout, “You’re all fucked!” rather than making their customers queue up to get the same message one at a time.
Mad Blog Media 
Here’s hoping that Herself has a trouble free trip from Phoenix back home. That is if it isn’t too hot to fly in Phoenix.
I told her yesterday to rent a big ol’ fire-engine-red Chevy Ballbuster a la Hunter S. Thompson and drive the sumbitch straight from Minneapolis to The Duck! City. Nineteen hours tops, not counting pee breaks and fillups. But did she listen? Noooooo. ….
At this stage of life, five hundred miles is the limit. No matter when in the day that 500 miles is reached, it to time to stop, shower, get a nibble to eat, and start drinking. No cheap motel for me. Nice place with a restaurant and a bar is the minimum requirement.
Yeah, that’s about my limit too. Five to seven hours of driving. Especially in the old Fearsome Furster. That wee beastie is not exactly the acme of motoring luxury, comfortwise.
Meanwhile, Herself is wheels up out of Sky Harbor bound for the Sunport. Winning, etc.
I think Hunter S. Thompson would have pulled out his custom Indian motorcycle themed iphone and called up his celebrity buddy Johnny Travolta asking for a 707 jet ride. Johnny get me out of here. Oh yeah, we’re going to have a couple of extra passengers too. I see a doll in the airport with a pink rollaway that I’d love to talk literature with.
Good to hear that Scarewest was able to put the wings on in time for the flight out of Megaopolis-St. Pew. Here’s hoping that it’s clear enough over Al-b-cue to look down on you as she flies over on her way into Phoenix.
POB: Don’t you reside in the Tucson area or are you further south? While out riding (in one of my Mad Dog Media jerseys, yesiree) I ran into an RV traveling couple yesterday staying in my neck of the woods that were from Tucson. Victor and Ruth they were. Very nice folks. I met them when I noticed the classic turquoise and yellow color paint scheme on one of the bikes they had on their Honda CRV trailing off of their RV. It was an old Mert Lawwill design Yeti MTB. They spoke well of the trails in the Mt. Lemmon area.
Time correction – I see now that as I wrote my comment you had indicated that Mrs. POG was already alight out of Sky Harbor (PHX). By the time I finally typed the last character of my message, she likely was already de-planing in Al-b-cue. Here is hoping that old pinkie has arrived as well.
Shawn, We live about 75 miles Southeast of Tucson in Sierra Vista. We are at 4600 feet above sea level, so cooler, 5 to 10 degrees, than Tucson. A very nice area to ride, both mountain and road cycling, as Patrick can attest to.
Used to fly in/out of MSP a lot. Not one of my favorite places to be stranded as it’s a cobbled up mess. Glad Herself escaped and it is a miracle that Southworst came to the rescue given their recent debacles. Although they used to be my airline of choice. Your H.S.T rental car plan would have killed the poor girl with all the road construction going on EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE! Gotta use those Fed funds before they dry up.
I don’t recall ever using MSP before. And yeah, Southworst to the rescue? Who knew? But Delta said they couldn’t get her on a plane until Thursday, which was a non-starter. Didn’t offer a hotel room, meal vouchers, not a damn thing.
Meanwhile, the weasel words in Delta’s “Request a Refund or Reimbursement” song and dance lead me to believe that coaxing a refund from these people will be about like teaching a pig to whistle.
That being said, I’m a senior citizen on a fixed income with plenty of free time, the Irish penchant for indulging a grudge at length, and a talent for driving people witless, so who knows? It took me six months to get United to cough up a refund after they treated me like a shitpants hobo at a Michelin-star bistro. But I got ’er done.
Well sir you’ve added yet another fine descriptive tool to my portfolio. “Shitpants Hobo” will come in handy and also be handed down through the family tree. If only you’d write that book….
That’d be a good name for a band, hey?
“Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for … Shitpants Hobo!”
(The crowd roars.)
Now we need a top-10 list of their greatest hits.
10. “Sally Ann’s a Bitch.”
9. “Don’t Use My Socks for Your Squeeze.”
8. …
Stoker Blues.
Hole in the back tire
Sealant all over my shoes
Can’t see, can’t brake, can’t shift
I got them ole stoker blues
“God Damned Boxcar Door Won’t Open!”
“I Ain’t Homeless, I’m RV’ing”
“Happiness is a Tent, a Tarp and a Dry Dog”
“No Sir Officer I’m not a Smart Ass. I’m a Journalist on Assignment”
“Flying with your Pants Down and the Landing Gear Retracted”
“Guitar Strings Should be Free”
“I Live in the Desert and Piss Upstream”
Almost snagged myself an SUV on Saturday. The little things all matter.
http://labikes.blogspot.com/2023/06/beware-of-large-grey-vehicles-on.html
It sure is good to read your narrative Khal. That means you’re still around to have written it. Whoo! I called up the googly maps and put it into street mode while reading your story. It helps to get an idea of what you could see (although the googly image is from 11/21). Yes that intersection looks like it can be a real headache. Taking into account the residential homes to the south, it appears to be an ideal intersection for a high visibility crosswalk with a blinking pedestrian light activated with a push button. A walker, biker, etc. could approach the intersection, press the button and blinking crossing lights would flash requiring drivers to slow and stop.
Good on ya for supporting the rainbow stripes.
Way to dodge that big gray bullet, K. We have issues with foliage, block walls, blind curves and all manner of other obstructions at intersections here in The Duck! City. Crossing some of the streets here can feel like a three-bullet round of Russian roulette.
Then when you think you see an opening and go to clip in some jagoff behind you leans on the horn and scares the Clif Blox out of you.