The Delta Debacle

Have I mentioned how much I love Delta? We are forced to fly Delta because it's the one my husband must use when he travels for business, so I don't want any comments about us changing over to a different airline. Retirement looms on the horizon, but until then...

Here is my diatribe after my flights on Thursday last week. Nothing leaves on time or arrives on time and everything is always always overbooked, sometimes more overbooked than other times, but always overbooked. Other details vary. This time our pilot called in sick 10 minutes to take off. One must assume he called from the bar at the airport. So we sat and waited for the new guy to arrive. Well, he sounded like he might have been almost 14. He starts up the engine, and it dies, so they have to bring in the starter cart, or in layman's terms, the jumper cables. And we're off to Detroit, because no matter where you are flying from or to, now that Delta owns the skies, everyone is routed through Detroit. And next to Delta itself, I think I hate Detroit next worse. Since everything is always screwed up with flight times, I mean why even give a flight time, they could just say, "Hey, come on over, hang out at the airport, and eventually there will be a plane going somewhere close to your destination. So, inevitably you have to race like crazy down through Detroit's little rain forest place, which I'm sure would have a calming effect if everyone wasn't late and in a massive hurry. And you arrive at your gate only to find your plane has been delayed. But this time, we left the gate only to sit in line on the tarmac for an hour, AN HOUR, since only one runway is open. And I really timed it. There were 25 planes in line on one runway, waiting to take off. The one thing they have over Northwest, which used to be my airline of choice, is that they serve peanuts, but you have to be in the peanut zone.

I'm waiting for the day they require you to hold someone on your lap or pay a penalty.