Musical Airlines

You decided to buy a car, so you headed down to your nearby Chevy dealership.
You looked at lots of options, weighed the differences, and selected the Chevy Suburban.
You filled out the paperwork, wrote the big check, then headed outside to take your new car home.
But the vehicle waiting by the door is a Kia Sorrento.
“We didn’t really have any Suburbans on the lot, but this one will work just fine,” the salesman assures you.
Would you be happy?
Then you now know the frustration of thousands of airline passengers.
Recently I made arrangements for my mom to fly on flight 2771 to Las Vegas on a United Airlines plane from Philadelphia.
I should have smelled a rat when the airline told me they couldn’t say what seat they would assign.
(Making your own seat selection has become commonplace when buying tickets online.)
On the appointed day, my mom pulled up to the United sign at the Philadelphia airport and unloaded her bags for the skycaps.
A few minutes later, she learned that United doesn’t have a flight 2771.
Before panic could reach frenzied hysteria, the official informed her she was booked on a U.S. Airways flight.
Relieved to at least have a seat, she loaded the bags back into the car, then drove another quarter-mile to the U.S. Air terminal, unloaded her bags, and rushed to get to the gate in time for departure.
On the other end, blissfully unaware of this, I arrived at McCarran Airport and went immediately to the “Arrival” board.
No flight 2771.
I had spoken personally with a United representative the day before, so I knew the flight existed.
When I tracked down an airport employee with a walkie-talkie, I heard the blood chilling reply.
“You need to go to the United office.”
I knew from watching movies and reading books that this was the way they usually broke the news about an air crash.
So I raced down to the United kiosk located near the baggage carousels.
There, a bored clerk explained that my mom would be on U.S. Airways flight 633.
Once my heart slowed down and I could hear better, the United Airlines employee went on to explain that it was now common practice for the airlines to purchase seats on other airlines, then sell them as their own.
She also admitted that it was a despicable practice.
On this day, flight 2771 existed only on a computer screen.
I hurried to the U.S. Airways baggage carousel, found my mom, and gave her an extra-long hug.
She had paid for a flight on United Airlines, but had been baited and switched to a ripped seat on a dirty airplane filled with rude flight attendants operated by U.S. Air.
When she goes back in two weeks, it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that she’ll be returning on a Greyhound bus while her bags are sent back east on a train, thanks to this new scheme by the airlines.
I’m not arrogant enough to suggest that you should boycott United Airlines, but I can assure you it’s the last time I will book tickets with the Friendly Lies people.
Also, the Chicago-based airline has a new fan.
As their bankruptcy case (filed in December of 2002) continues to wind its way through the courts, I’ll be the guy on the sidelines, fervently waving pom poms and cheering their eventual demise out of existence.