By INCITES BY ED SILVERSTEIN
In last week’s column on corporate trickery, I mentioned I could fill 20 columns on questionable practices of the airline industry. Having had my stress level jacked to the stratosphere — thanks to those swell folks at Delta Airlines — I feel compelled to write the first.
The incident occurred when an out-of-state friend and I tried to coordinate travel plans on Delta’s Web site. All went smoothly at first and we were able to quickly find a suitable itinerary. I booked my ticket, left for the day and came home to discover that when my friend tried to book his ticket it was no longer available.
No problem, I thought. Delta would gladly change my ticket. “Not so,” said the reservation agent. There would be a $100 fee to change my ticket. “Not so,” said I, “Your policy allows cancellation of a ticket booked online within 24 hours.” She insisted I was wrong, so I insisted that she connect me to her supervisor.
The recording invited me to visit Delta’s Web site, then kept me holding for a period that would easily have allowed enough time to make it through LAX airport security during a holiday weekend. The supervisor finally came on the line and made me repeat all the information. The supervisors claimed my reservation didn’t exist because computer programmers have still not figured out that confirmation codes should not include the letters I and O which can be confused with the numbers 1 and 0, then checked my frequent flyer status, which was apparently not impressive enough to warrant friendly customer service.
I mentioned the reservation had been made within the past 24 hours and that all I wanted to do was arrive and depart with my friend without incurring a 30-percent penalty because the information on their system had become obsolete in the five minutes it took to book our reservations.
No, absolutely not, no way, she explained, reminding me that the ticket was non-cancelable, non-transferable, and non-refundable. Utterly frustrated and wondering where I could purchase an Uzi, I firmly stated (I’m being kind here) that there was no way I was going to pay $100 to change my ticket and could she give me the corporate phone number.
Remember that car salesman who gave you his rock bottom price, then when you start to leave he says “let me talk to my sales manager” and goes over to a person and they talk about last night’s baseball game, then he comes back and tells you they need to fill a quota so they’re willing to take a loss so they’ll knock $500 off which is what it should have gone for all along, but now they’ve wasted a couple hours of your time and you hope there is a hell because you’re sure that if there’s any justice in the world, that’s where they’re headed? It was like that.
The supervisor said she needed to check with her superior, put me on hold where I was again invited to go to the Delta Web site, then days — OK, minutes — later, the supervisor was back on the line happily chirping that, since I had purchased my ticket online within the last 24 hours, I was allowed to cancel it.
Now where had I heard that before? Certain that these people had less training than the Iraqi security force, I contacted Delta’s corporate customer care and spoke to a manager who apologized profusely and asked me what could Delta possibly do to make amends for such shabby treatment. Then the tooth fairy flew through my window and told me I had won the lottery.
What actually occurred was that the customer care manager defended Delta’s actions, stating that the agent was perfectly correct in telling me I couldn’t change or cancel the ticket because only supervisors were authorized to do so. She refused to listen when I tried to tell her that it was the supervisor who told me that I couldn’t change or cancel the ticket, and when I insisted that she hear what I was saying instead of trying to twist the facts, she hung up on me. Which is to be expected from a company that has been repeatedly bailed-out with billions of our tax dollars.
Airlines have shrunk seats, eliminated food, made checking luggage a game of Russian roulette with five bullets, and corrected disastrous on-time records by extending scheduled flight times. The only thing left to get right is customer service. And I do admit that Delta’s customer service has built brand loyalty … for Greyhound.
And I have no way of knowing if my experience was a result of gross incompetence or a corporate scheme to subvert my customer rights. But one thing is certain, attitudes, such as those displayed by the reservation agent, her supervisor and the manager in customer care, are symptomatic of a top down indifference to their customers and clearly demonstrates the airline’s inability to differentiate between people and freight.
In stark contrast, this weekend I went to one of my favorite restaurants, Gaucho Grill, and ordered one of my favorite dishes — skirt steak. Unfortunately, my steak was tough. The waitress apologized and took my plate to replace my order. A couple of moments later, the manager came over to apologize, explained that they were not happy with that weekend’s shipment of steaks and suggested that I order a different dish. He also provided a free salad while I waited and offered my wife and I either a round of drinks or dessert for our trouble. My new dish was excellent, we felt appreciated. We’ll return often and I couldn’t help but think that it would do Delta a world of good if all their top executives were required to spend some time waiting tables there.
PROLOGUE: As Delta was our only option, we again attempted to make reservations, this time by phone. The first — outsourced — agent apparently became confused at our complicated itinerary and hung up in mid-conversation. A second agent — also outsourced — refused to connect us with his supervisor, then spent 40 minutes making repeated errors, managing to book only one of four reservations and left us pining for the days of travel agents. (Ed Silverstein is a freelance writer who has been grounded in Santa Monica. Your comments are invited at).
Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on July 7, 2004. Read the original PDF.