southwest airlines

It was February of 2010 when a friend and I decided to go and visit a close friend in Philadelphia. The two of us go to college in Texas about 100 miles outside of Houston. We booked our trip a few weeks in advance and planned on leaving Friday afternoon and returning Sunday evening to Houston.

On the Thursday before we were due to leave, we both received calls from Southwest Airlines. A big snowstorm was due to hit the Northeast and they were canceling our flight prematurely in anticipation of the weather hitting around that time. They offer us a refund of our money or the chance to fly out on a much earlier flight (6 am) from Houston Hobby to Philadelphia, via Chicago. My friend and I decided to take the early flights. We departed for Houston at about 3 in the morning, drove the 100 miles to Houston and arrived at about 4:30 am. Our flight was mostly empty and everything went very smoothly from Houston to Chicago, and then from Chicago on to Philly.

That evening the snowstorm hit hard. Being from Texas, any sort of flurry is a weather mystery to me. Seeing that much snow fall over about 20 hours was beyond mesmerizing. Of course, we spent most of the weekend indoors, but still had a good time with our friend.

On Sunday we woke up to phone calls from Southwest Airlines again. Our flights, and all flights out of Philadelphia, had been canceled. No surprise there, the ground was covered in several feet of snow. Southwest then offered us a chance to re-book our flights out of Philadelphia, giving us the option to leave on… gulp… Wednesday evening. As both my friend and I are college students in engineering, we have to get back home as soon as possible so we don’t skip too many classes and miss turning in some assignments. I convince my friend from Philly to drive us to the airport and see if we can get any more options than just sit around until Wednesday.

As we arrive at the Southwest Airlines ticket counter in a deserted Philadelphia airport, there is only one agent behind the desks. I go up to talk to him; then a very irate older man walks up to the counter and begins to verbally harass the agent. Apparently, he needed to get home to Chicago or wherever and could not believe that the flights were canceled (despite the layer of snow outside). The agent stood behind the desk not knowing what to say to the man. It was in no way the airline’s fault that any flight was canceled as no planes were taking off or leaving. But this man must have thought that the agent had solely conjured up a snowstorm to block him from returning home.

The man leaves, still pretty angry and without any alternatives except to wait it out. I decide that I’m going to be polite to the agent who was just wrongly harassed by some idiotic man. I walk up and make a little small talk, joke about the man who had just left. I then asked if there is anyway my friend and I can get on a flight before Wednesday afternoon. The agent tells us that we could wait standby for the next couple of days, but that we’d most likely just spend two days at the airport waiting for seats that wouldn’t be there. I ask about alternate airports, and the agent gets us both on flights the next morning out of Islip, New York on Long Island. It was a sure deal, as we had confirmed seats, and our best bet of getting out of the snow-covered Northeast. The agent then thanks us for being nice, and tells us that he considered offering the same deal to the angry old man, but decided to let him sweat it out since he was so irate and unreasonable.

Now the game became how to get to Long Island? Our Philly friend offered to drive us both, but that was a 6 hour roundtrip drive for her, getting her back to Philly at around 3 am. She works and goes to school, so I quickly ruled that out as an option. Instead, my Texas friend and I started calling rental car companies to try to get us to Long Island. After several phone calls and conversations, we found out that no company would rent us a car for cheaper than about $200. It made sense, as we were both under 25, and the roads were iced up.

We ended up getting tickets on Amtrak to New York City, and then took the Long Island Rail Road from New York Penn Station to Islip. It took about 3 hours and put us in a freezing Long Island at midnight. We took a cab to the airport to see if there was any way we could get a deal on a hotel room for a few hours. The airport was closed, but we did find flyers for a “distressed passenger rate” at a local hotel. It was still about $60 for a room, but it gave us the chance to sleep for a few hours. We woke at 6 am the next morning, took another cab back to the airport and checked in for our 7:40 flight.

The flights were a blur of sleep. We connected back through Chicago and on to Houston, arriving at Hobby Airport at about 3 pm. We got in the car and made the trip back to our college by 6 pm, tired but still laughing about the weekend’s adventure.

I guess this does not really count as a “flight from hell’ as all our flights aboard Southwest were very pleasant. Most of them involved gratuitous amounts of sleep. From the whole ordeal, I definitely learned that the best way to react to a situation that’s no one’s fault is to be patient and polite. Yelling and throwing a fit at the airport is going to get your nowhere. In the end, it got my friend and I back home much quicker than waiting around in Philly for a couple of days.

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A16. I love that number. As anyone who flies Southwest knows, that’s a magical number. That number means you can sit just about anywhere you want. On this particular flight from Denver to Ont., California, I chose to sit in the aisle seat of the bulkhead.

People streamed past me to further aisles. On the line went, everyone shuffling past, leaving me to wonder if, for once, I was truly going to get an aisle to myself. The thought tickled me. Then -

“Excuse me. We need to sit here.” I looked up to see an elderly couple.

“Sure,” I said, moving into the aisle to let them get seated. He chose the aisle seat, and she the window, leaving me with the middle.

Now, I’m pretty accommodating. Even though I love the aisle seat, if these folks wanted their particular perches, I was cool with that. Until it got weird.

First of all, the gentleman smelled like McDonald’s pickles. You know the cheap ones they put on their burgers? Clearly he’d just been eating one. The smell was incredible, and it only got worse after takeoff. To cork it, he kept dozing off, lolling his head on my shoulder and expelling pickle-breath into my face.

I turned to his wife and asked if she’d like to switch with me. “No,” she said. “It’ll only wake him up again.”

After a few minutes, she produced a newspaper, the crinkling of which woke him. She turned to a full-page ad for the “Portable Amish-Made Fireplace” (the one that looks like a real article). She thrust the newspaper across me and stabbed a finger at the page. “We need one of these! Keep your room warm!” There ensued an argument about portable fireplaces, and supporting the Amish, and wait – the Amish made electronics now?

“Actually, ma’am,” I interrupted. “The Amish didn’t make the actual fireplace. They just made the wooden mantel on it.”

“This article says they made the fireplace.”

“Ah, they made that one part. And truthfully, it’s not an article – it’s an ad made to look like one.” I indicated the giant letters that read “This is an Advertisement” across the top.

She stared at me. Then she tucked the newspaper away, folded her arms, and proceeded to glare straight ahead until the snacks came around. That’s when I got a sharp nudge to the arm and a “Get me one of those cookie things, will you?” Pickle-breath was back to snoring, and I was ordered to “Get one for him too. I”ll keep it in my purse.”

Finally, around 20 minutes of peace. Then – “I need to use the facilities.” All right. “You need to move. I can’t get in front of you.” Mind you, we’re seated in the bulkhead, so she’s got room to spare. Biting my tongue, I climbed into the aisle and stood by.

She used her husband as a hand-hold. He slept through it. When she reached the aisle, she used ME as a hand-hold (no joke, front of my shirt grab), then sort of shoved me backward and almost onto the floor.

Landing couldn’t come fast enough. When it did – you guessed it – Senior Sally held up the whole plane while she tried to get her suitcase out of the overhead bin (where I’d helpfully put it when they seated, and she snapped that she didn’t want me reaching again).

I was taught to respect my elders. Apparently this elder wasn’t taught to respect anyone ELSE.

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Hello Delta Customer Service,

I would like you to please help me answer a question. I am trying to figure out the following: Why would I ever fly Delta Airlines again?

I had a non-direct flight that required me to switch terminals in the PHX airport in order to board a Delta flight. As soon as my flight landed, I got off the plane, got on the shuttle, and got to the Delta terminal as quickly as I could. When I arrived is when the trouble began. I was not let on my connecting flight. For this reason I have the following questions:

How would not letting me on my connecting flight with 30min left and no checked bags make me want to fly Delta again? If this was a Southwest flight, I would have been put on the flight immediately with no hassle. Southwest is in the business flying and treating their customers with respect, while it appears Delta is in the business of grounding and hassling. (BTW other companies provide much better rates if I just wanted a good hassling.)

How would hearing that the computer can’t print a boarding pass for me make me want to fly Delta ever again? What kind of computers are you using? I’m no expert, but if these computers are incapable of printing boarding passes I don’t think they belong at the ticketing counter.

How would being questioned for ten minutes why I was late make me want to fly Delta again? Unfortunately I was not the pilot on my connecting flight or the driver on the shuttle between terminals, so I couldn’t hurry things along to make my flight.

How would standing at a ticket counter from 2:45PM to 3:35PM supposed to make me want to fly Delta again? A ton of everyone’s time was wasted, not just mine. I’m sure your employees aren’t working the ticket counter for free. Why the inefficiencies?

How would being told that I should be happy that I don’t have to pay a fee for not making a connecting flight while others are upstairs getting $500 travel vouchers for your overbooked flight make me want to fly Delta again?

How would your broken website not allowing me to print out my boarding passes ahead of time make me want to fly Delta again?

How would C. from the PHX ticketing counter (he wouldn’t give me his employee number) walking away and disappearing in the middle of our conversation make me want to fly Delta again?

How would my last flight being delayed because the crew arrived late make me want to fly Delta again?

How would paying over $780.10 for a one way flight from SJC to OMA in order to attend my grandfather’s wake and missing this because you wouldn’t put me on my connecting flight supposed to make me want to fly Delta ever again?

I paid $780.10 (one way) to get me from San Jose at 6:20AM PST to Omaha at 4:22PM CST. What I got was a travel time from 6:20AM PST to 12:24PM +1 day, a lecture about why I shouldn’t be late for flights when I wasn’t, and a ton of excuses. How would any of this make me want to fly Delta again?

Can you help me answer this question?

Sincerely,

Nicholas Evans

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The Last Straw

November 17, 2010

in Airport Stories

I believe I had the honor of witnessing THE LAST STRAW for Southwest Airlines’ ORIGINAL queuing process.

Background: for those that never flew SWA, or maybe just fly Gulfstreams, SWA was unique in that they did open seating; line up and enter.  The problem was that lines would be silly long interfering with the hallways, etc.  A change was inevitable.

The Deltas of the world, with their noses in the air, all felt this nuisance SWA airline would just go away eventually.

Fictitious CUSTOMER: “Wait, let me get this straight: I don’t HAVE TO GO through Atlanta to get to my city?”

DELTA: “No, we are not saying that; who told you that?”

CUSTOMER: “That crazy airline over there… I hear they also sing on the intercoms and wear shorts, too.”

DELTA: “Well, er, we go through Atlanta as this helps keep costs down… gots to keep the shareholders happy… we are large, we make the rules here.”

Sorry, back on track… I kinda lost myself there for a second.

Back in the day, if one was smart, they found they would sit near the SWA gate door and hold out as LONG AS POSSIBLE before they stood up and entered the queue, or mostly START THE QUEUE.  But, there was always some person (e.g., like “commenter JODY,” no offense) that would break protocol and stand like 1.5 hours before the flight… everyone around would quietly say under their breath, “Damn!”  At this point, you HAD to stand up to get in the first 30 (for that prized aisle or window seat).

Presently, SWA tweaked their policy to a nice process but had switched it a few times – from A-B-C group plastic cards to splitting up the lines based on those letters.

It was in the Big Easy, NOLA, the great New Orrrrr-leee-ans.  I believe it was a rainy day, ok, who cares about that.  Date: early 2000s, maybe late 1990s. The airport, for those that have not been there (e.g., the “other Paul” – who clearly would not voluntarily go to this fun town–JK), is not a modern place.  In a way, I love the old SKOOL (er, school) airports (e.g. Detroit’s old wings) as the old flight status boards are cool to see (modern art lovers would hate it–their Blackberries in hand, with those tight sweaters in place).  I was flying back to Tampa (direct) on the incredible FORMER price of $30/each way (thanks again, SWA) when I noticed something in the corner of my eye… it APPEARED to be a few folks off to the side in a straight line.  RUT ROW.

Thirty minutes passed as I am waiting/STANDING in the QUEUE (thanks again, “JODY - or similar-like person” for starting the line TOO DAMN EARLY–ref hereinabove) when I noticed a few MORE FOLKS in that second line.  YOU ARE PROBABLY getting the gist of this now: Danger, Will Robinson.

SWA Announcer: “We will be boarding soon; please join the boarding line right away and keep clear of the aisleway the best possible.”  THIS IS WHEN the fun REALLY begins.  Line “A,” where I was, FINALLY realized there was a Line “B.”  No Biggie, it appeared; they seemed cocky, confident, but a touch irritated (like Mike Tyson before the Buster Douglas fight).

Flight from hell?–well, maybe a pending FIGHT from hell.  AWESOME.

The sheet hit the fan when Line “B” noticed Line “A” was gradually moving forward to the door.  It first started with a few “hey, hey” lines but quickly escalated to a verbal shouting match; it was starting to get ugly.  I was deep in line so was not involved – but rather just sitting back enjoying.  “We were here first.”  “No Friggin’ way.”

The SWA personnel moved into action – well, the best they could – but a couple of security personnel finally showed up to assist.

AWESOME.  One knew this WOULD EVENTUALLY happen with this process.

How did it end: line “B” wasn’t too long so they compromised.  No fist fights, but DAMN CLOSE.  Yes, a good aisle seat is worth THAT MUCH.  BUT, the rest was aviation history.

Was this THE LAST STRAW – well, let’s just say an incident report was definitely written up on this one.  The next SWA flight I took (maybe 4 months later) had those new A-B-C cards to make things more civilized–coincidence?

- Paul

PS: While in NOLA please be sure to hit the famous dive restaurant – PORT OF CALL; trust me: get the burger and baked potato.  Awesome, awesome.

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Booted Off Plane For Body Odor

September 20, 2010 Odor Stories

The smell of death. A battlefield? A morgue? No. I smelled this awful aroma on a Southwest airplane. Sometime circa the summer of 2000, three friends and I were returning to San Jose from LAX. Everything started off normally. We arrived, checked in, and patiently waited an hour to board our flight. This is where [...]

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Loud Passenger Prevents Sleep

July 23, 2010 Passenger Stories

I was recently returning to Jacksonville, Florida from Kansas City, Missouri after an extended weekend where I was a co-hostess for my sister’s baby shower. Needless to say, I was exhausted. The first leg of my flight was from KC to Ft. Lauderdale. Flying Southwest and lucky enough to have an A boarding pass, I [...]

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No Room For Portly Passenger

July 20, 2010 Portly Stories

I was flying from Albuquerque to Phoenix. On Southwest Air, I got my “A” boarding pass and took my window seat. Some guy took the aisle seat and the flight filled up. At this point, there were only about 3 empty seats on the plane — all middle seats. As you can imagine, some guy [...]

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Mr. Wideload

May 31, 2010 Portly Stories

I was flying from Albuquerque to Phoenix on Southwest. Now, Southwest Air has the “persons of size” policy in that if you can’t fit with the arm rest down, you need to buy another ticket, but they only charge you for that other ticket if the flight is full. I was in the B boarding [...]

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Rocking And Rolling In Rough Weather

April 2, 2010 Weather Stories

I had 2 flights from hell oddly enough only a few weeks apart in NOV-DEC 2002. On the November flight, I was a passenger on a Southwest flight from Columbus, Ohio to Chicago-Midway airport. I had flown this route many times before and it is usually only about a 50 minute trip. On this particular [...]

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Big Mess Left In Searched Bag

March 2, 2010 Luggage Stories

Summer 2007, I flew SWA from St. Louis to Oklahoma City to attend my sister-in-law’s baby shower. The flights themselves were no problem at all. However, when I got home and opened my bag to unpack, someone had dumped out EVERYTHING in my bag and just stuffed it all back in willy-nilly. Even my makeup [...]

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