LOST AND FOUND

It had never happened to me; and although I have worked in the travel industry for more than 30 years and consequently traveled extensively; I had never lost my luggage.

Last Tuesday I had a very tight schedule with a flight from Ft Lauderdale to Atlanta, a rented car there to drive to Marietta for a one hour meeting, back to the airport and off to La Guardia in New York on another flight, then I was supposed to get a cab for a meeting in Queens, go back to the airport, off to Atlanta and then, finally, on my last flight of the day to Houston. It didn't go as planned. As I was still swimming in a sea of complacency due to the positive outcome of the first meeting I was slapped by the first hurdle: our plane was held at the end of the runway, ready to take off, when the engine's roar ebbed. The cause: well, first the captain said it was due to severe weather conditions at La Guardia and we had to wait for 30 minutes; after 40 minutes he told us that we had to wait for another hour. At that point I knew my luck had dramatically shifted from good to not so good. One hour later, under 100 F, we learnt that we could then take off and, by the way, the problem was with air control in Washington DC. Poor me, I had until them hoped that the only problem in Washington was the incompetence of our politicians. So we finally took off, I was already sure my meeting was a no go and thinking of how best to spend two hours at the airport. Then the second hurdle, and at that point I realized my luck had shifted from not so good to bad. The captain once again addressed us through the PA with yet another news: there had been a storm over La Guardia and many of the flights scheduled to land before ours were still in the air; so we had been ordered to fly around until further notice. I started to think this could well be the worst flight of my life, I then knew for a fact there would be no meeting; thank God I had warned the other attendee it was most likely a no go. Almost one hour later the captain finally told us we were clear to land. It was almost six in the afternoon; so in one more hour I would be in another flight back to where I had come from; what a waste of fuel, time, money, and (well some I must have) talent...

We landed, skidding a little, but under the circumstances it was only logical. I got out of the plane ready to rush to my flight back to Atlanta. "What's my gate?" I asked, pointing in my boarding pass at the flight number. Not so fast. My flight had been delayed; the plane had not landed yet; so it still had to arrive, be cleaned and then we could board. I then knew something was very wrong. Trying to keep a positive view, I went to a little restaurant and had an early dinner, then went back to the gate area and sat down hoping to hear what Delta had decided to do with my life.

Half an hour later some sexy voice told us our flight had been canceled and that we should go to our gate to get further information. Would I have to sleep in New York? would we be able to get our luggage?. I ran to another gate where I had spotted one of those rare exceptions these days: someone how seemed to know what she was doing. I begged the girl to help me with my booking and help me she did. She quickly found out I had already been booked for a later flight scheduled to leave in one hour. I was almost smiling when I realized I wouldn't be able to make it in time to board my flight to Houston. "Is there any flight to Houston after this one I am booked in?". NO was the answer; you will have to stay in the airport until tomorrow. Delta would not cover any hotel costs since this had been caused by the weather, therefore force majeure, therefore I was on my own. Poor suckers that don't work for a company, I have no problem, I will be able to book a room and my company will pay for it. So when I get to Atlanta I will ask them to get my luggage and I will go to a hotel for a few hours. Not so fast. My luggage had always been sitting in Atlanta and would be put in the flight I was booked for. Oh no, you guys can't do that to me, please Miss, please. no worries she said. I will insert a note here asking Delta at ATL not to send the luggage to Houston, so when you get to Atlanta please go to the Luggage Service Center located right in front of carousel number two. Oh God, she was good!!!

You would think this is bad enough as it is, but there's more. My flight to Atlanta was delayed and we only took off at 11.30 pm ( I was supposed to leave at 7.00 p.m.). When we landed in Atlanta I knew it wasn't over yet. I knew... so I came out of this flying toothpaste tube ran to carousel two, which means walking about a mile since the inter terminal train does not run after 12.00 midnight. I got there, it was already 1.30. I had to stay in line for a while even though I was scheduled to leave at 8.00 a.m. , there comes this black gay guy smiling...how can I help you sir?; well I was told my luggage would be here, so this is my claim number; let me seeeeeeee; he made a point to let me know what his sexual inclinations were, very much inclined indeed, actually bending forward if you ask me, your luggage is already in Houston he sang, emulating Eddy Murphy's impersonation of a gay guy in Beverly Hills Cops  when he wanted access to Victor Maitland's private club. No, look, I said in total desperation, one of your colleagues in La Guardia made sure that you guys knew I needed my luggage. "Whooooo???" he asked, and then I saw only red. I almost bit my tongue fearing to be sued for sexist remarks. Here I was, abused by the incompetence of the biggest airline on earth, treated like trash and still I had to make sure not to hurt this dumb ass's feelings. For me it was clear: he was not incompetent because he was gay, he was simply an incompetent jerk who happened to be gay. Almost talking to myself I whispered: "what am I going to do now, I have no clothes to change.." Oh no problem, his face lit up, huge ear to ear smile. You can have this kit here..." he handed me a black thing the size of a small purse with a T shirt, toothbrush, ONE dose of toothpaste, deodorant, a disposable razor and a brush/comb. I just laughed, I laughed as if this were not happening to me. I just went out of there, called my hotel and asked them for the shuttle.
At 4.00 a.m. I was finally showered, sitting on my hotel bed, bear chested so as not to wrinkle my infamous Skyteam T shirt.

I slept one hour and returned to Atlanta's airport to finally get my plane to Houston. During the flight I thought of at least three different ways to write a letter to Richard; yes the guy signs with his first name only, Delta's CEO shows his brand of modesty, his guy next door, down to earth kind of shit. But I bet he doesn't fly commercial, not even business or first; he must fly in a private jet, with several sets of luggage.

I started to wonder with a bit of nostalgia; do we remember when people were afraid to lose their jobs? do we remember when there were jobs like stewardess, secretary, garbage person? instead of flight attendant, assistant, or waste management expert?; do we remember when people were black? or Chinese? or white? instead of African American?, Asian American? or Caucasian? When flying was a privilege that would not have happened to me; but with the access to traveling to more people the service has been so standardized that employees don't think anymore; they have these expensive computer systems, but they don't read the notes. As John Naisbitt explained in his book "Megatrends" we have come from an industrial economy to a service economy; however, sadly enough, very few people know how to "serve"; everyone seems to have serious existential problems, and we are not even proud of what we do; we exchange one service for another as if they were tokens with no human touch, no deference to the customer and very little regard for the quality of what we do. We just want the work day to end so that we can go home a be served by someone else who, like us, cares very little about customer satisfaction and feeds us these TV shows that make a mockery out of modern society. What really bothers me is not that what happened to me is one exception, but that it IS the everyday reality of passengers in the world. There are CEOs, COOs. CFOs, all kinds of three letter titles with six or seven figure salaries that are handsomely paid because the know what to do, and yet; when a little rain falls over New York the biggest airline in the world is not able to secure the luggage of a poor sucker on a business trip.

I don't have a beef with Delta. I do have a beef with us, the average people, because we have allowed the world to get this low in quality and we have allowed the companies to treat us like trash, we have become hostages of those we pay to serve us. What in the name of God would it take for us to wake the f... up?