Airlines (and Also MAYBE America???) Are the Worst

A Travel Saga: Part 1 of 2

As we began the boarding process for our flight to Philadelphia—a city I had no plans to be in when I woke up that morning—I realized we had been traveling for nearly 24 hours, and we still had not left the confines of California.

This is my very best worst travel story.

Let’s start at the beginning:

John Wayne Airport in Orange County, California is Point A. The Kalamazoo/Battle Creek International Airport is Point B. And the part in-between has been entrusted to American Airlines (never again).

Simple enough.

Our trip home was going to be a long day, but all things considered, it was probably about as good as one can hope for when booking a trip between smaller airports: Depart from Orange County to Chicago around 11 am, spend three hours at O’Hare, land in Kalamazoo sometime after 9, back in Lansing and under the covers by 11 pm.    

Like I said, a long day, but not an unreasonable one.

How it actually unfolded:

American was nice enough to set expectations low the day before. I received the following communication 24 hours prior to boarding:

The Chicago area is forecast to have disruptive weather conditions, which may affect your upcoming travel on American Airlines. Your flight is currently on time, but we are offering options if you would like to proactively change your travel plans. That means you could travel on a different date or time or use a different airport to make your connection.

Thanks, American. In the future, I’ll now know that message actually means:

Your flight will be canceled, but we won’t be telling you until the very last possible minute. And when we do, you will be getting absolutely nothing from us: no help with rebooking, no reasonable rebooking options and, for that matter, no culpability or feelings of compunction from American Airlines or our employees. Enjoy the airport. You live there now with all the other disgusting trolls who make up that sturdy base leg of this wonderful K-shaped economy we’ve built for ourselves here in the good ol’ U.S. of A., because ya know… weather.

I am still so angry.

On our way to the airport our flight was pushed back. At first, it’s just 30 minutes. Then it was an hour. Then it was another 20 minutes. You’ve all experienced this before. You know the drill.

QUIT LYING TO ME!

Finally, around 2:30 pm, the jig is up—the flight was canceled.

Please sit tight while we rebook you.

Thirty minutes passed.

An hour passed.

What the hell is going on?! Finally, a new message from American:

We have amazing news!!! You’ve been rebooked! And we think it’s a trip you’re going to love! First, go collect your luggage from baggage claim and head back through security, because you and your bags are now set to fly with a new airline to San Francisco! You’ll then wait around until about 11 p.m., get on the red-eye to Chicago—back with American for the rest of the trip! We’re so excited to fly with you again!—sit around for TWELVE HOURS, and then fly home to Kalamazoo! Easy peasy!

This is probably a good time to mention that it was roughly two to three hours of afternoon thunderstorms in Chicago—storms that would have completely moved through by the time our original flight was scheduled to land—that apparently crippled air travel throughout most of the continental U.S.

A few hours of rain and thunder. That’s it.

Anyway, back to Orange County.

We boarded our flight for San Francisco, because what other choice did we have? If we could just get to Chicago, maybe we could find a faster way home.

Before we even landed, a new communiqué from American:

Remember that red-eye to Chicago we told you about? Yeah, we’re not doing that anymore. We’re also not going to rebook you on anything else. It’s getting late, and we’re tired. We’re going to bed now. Goodnight!

It’s now 9 pm in San Francisco. We’ve been traveling for more than 12 hour and had somehow managed to find ourselves 126 miles farther away from home than when we started. We have no itinerary, no idea where our luggage is, no plan and no reasonable end in sight.

Will Joe ever make it home??? Find out next time when he is forced to write another blog.