Contributed by:
Brendan Leonard/YourHub.com
Article Contributed on: 12/21/2006 12:08:07 PM
Author's note: This blog is really long, kind of like my epic experience on the phone with United Airlines last night -- United does not have bad service, but they are REALLY busy right now.
I imagine the customer service folks at United Airlines had beer helmets with coffee cups in them last night, along with breaks every 45 minutes or so for massages.
I found out my flight back to Iowa was cancelled last night about 7:30. My girlfriend, whose Wednesday flight was canceled, recommended that I get on the phone immediately. She had spent the day calling and calling again, getting busy signal after busy signal, finally getting put on hold for 40 minutes before she got through to someone, who rescheduled her flight home for Dec. 25, five days after the original flight. A bit of a change in plans.
Needless to say, I wasn't optimistic about my travel options when it was my turn to call the reservation line. Emily said the person who helped her, at 2 p.m., had another 317 people on hold behind her.
Still, I called, and was greeted by an automated voice telling me about united.com, then asking me to press 1 for something, 5 for something else, and 3 for what I wanted. I pressed 3. I was then asked to press 1 for my existing reservation. The line went silent and I got a busy signal.
Hang up.
I called back. I tried to press 3 right away so I didn't have to listen to the whole 30-second spiel preceding it, but that screwed up the system and I had to hang up again.
I called back and waited for the nice automated gentleman to finish his talk, then pressed 3. Next automated voice, I pressed 1. Then, I was greeted by an automated voice asking me questions, such as was I a member of the Mileage Plus Club, which would make things easier. No, I wasn't. That's okay, robot voice said, I can look your ticket up anyway.
He then gave me instructions on how to read my ticket number into the phone, since he was a robot and sometimes had a hard time understanding us mumbly humans. I kind of listened and then tried to read my ticket number into the phone.
"You said, 'KS54YT.' Is that correct?" he asked. No. It wasn't even close. I tried again.
I failed again, and tried again: "D as in Douglas, Z as in Zelda, the number 5, the number 4, K as in Kate, S as in Susan."
Nope. Busy signal. Hang up.
The next call, I got through. The robot and I had learned how to communicate. He understood my ticket number. I rejoiced.
Busy signal.
It went on like this for 40 minutes or so, until I finally got through to a loop of Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue." I never want to hear that song again, despite its obvious brilliance.
I waited.
One hour later, I spoke to a man for about 45 seconds. He said he could re-book me or give me a refund. I had waited for this information, that I could, indeed get a refund. I had no idea which date to re-book my flight home. Christmas Day was the earliest he could get me out of Denver. I couldn't move my vacation -- one of my bosses just had a baby (literally just had a baby, like 9:30 yesterday morning) and the other is leaving for a month in Thailand.
I hung up, without resolving anything.
I called my mother to inquire which date I should re-book a flight for, and we decided that about 2 1/2 days over New Year's would have to substitute for five days over Christmas. I quickly checked cheaptickets.com for available flights, and booked the last seat I could for that weekend.
But United still didn't know my plans, so I had to call and arrange a refund.
I figured, hey, it's 10 p.m. Maybe a lot of people have given up for the day and quit calling United, and the system will work much better this time. I will be whisked through in mere seconds to an operator, who will graciously refund me the amount I paid for the overpriced holiday ticket for the flight that was canceled.
Not so fast, pal. After about a half hour and ten more busy signals, I got through to Gershwin again. Thank heavens. I waited for an hour until I spoke with a gentleman who graciously refunded me the amount I paid for the overpriced holiday ticket for the flight that was canceled.
At 11:30 p.m., my hassle was over. My mother's heart was broken since I won't be home for Christmas, but hey, I thought. At least I'm:
1) Not stranded at DIA after a layover yesterday morning, like 4,000 people are.
2) Not still on the phone.
3) Not stuck in a snowbank anywhere on I-76 headed back to Iowa.
4) Not out any money for the plane ticket.
Sometimes a White Christmas means a guy sitting in an apartment on Capitol Hill, watching movies by himself. But that's okay.