You’ll Want To Be Sitting Down For This One

, , , , , , , , | Working | January 7, 2018

(I’ve spent eight hours flying, and am looking forward to finally arriving at my destination. I use a personal wheelchair to get from gate to gate, which means I leave it when I board the plane each time, and it should be waiting for me as I exit. It’s not there when I arrive. I ask the crewmember overseeing the strollers and other gate-checked luggage:)

Me: “Um, sir? Where’s my wheelchair?”

Crewmember: “Oh! That was yours?”

Me: *panicking now* “Yes! What happened?”

Crewmember: “Well, this old lady was having so much trouble walking, we thought it must be hers! She’s being taken to… well, probably wherever her next flight is, or maybe home.”

Me: “But I have a luggage tag! I put a tag on it! You were supposed to check it!”

Crewmember: “Well, I guess we can try to track her down.”

Me: “My wheelchair costs $1,500 and I can’t function without it!”

Crewmember: “Let me call for a transport wheelchair for you. My coworker will be able to help you catch up to her.”

(I panic more as I wait, because the longer it takes, the more likely I’ll never see my chair again. Finally, his coworker arrives.)

Coworker: “Hello, ma’am. I understand you need help finding someone in the airport?”

Me: “He gave away my wheelchair and now she’s God knows where!”

Coworker: “No problem. We’ll track her down in no time.”

(Surprisingly, we do. I’m so relieved. The lady and I switch wheelchairs, and she goes on her way. Before the coworker leaves, I ask him one final question.)

Me: “Don’t you want to check my luggage tag to make sure everything’s right this time?”

Coworker: “Nah! I’m sure you’ve got it!”

(He walked away as my jaw dropped to the floor. I did check it myself, at least!)

This Flight Is Going Down (Under)

, , , , , | Working | January 6, 2018

(A colleague and I are travelling to Cocoa Beach, Florida. The nearest commercial airport is in Melbourne, Florida, about ten minutes south. He’s an Australian engineer, with a very heavy accent. He gets the company credit card and arranges our air travel.)

Coworker: “Al ‘ight, [My Name]. Gotcher ticket to Melbourne right here!”

Me: “Melbourne, Florida, right?”

They Seem To Exist On A Separate Temporal Plane

, , , | Right | January 1, 2018

(There has been a string of cancellations that affect a bunch of flights. Most of us have been already bumped 2-3 times. In order to make amends, the supervisor prints some vouchers for future travel for everyone due to the delays.)

Agent: “Sorry for the inconvenience. Here’s your voucher, sir.”

Customer: “I don’t want a voucher; I want to go home. What is the problem with the plane?”

Agent: “Sir, the plane had a mechanical problem and we want to make sure that it is okay before taking off.”

Customer: *goes on futile circular tirade about the plane* “Clearly you aren’t charging me enough for this flight if you can’t afford to keep the planes properly repaired and running on time. I need to get home to my wife and kids. And I want to be home at the time I paid to be home.”

Agent: “Considering it’s already past the time your flight would have arrived, there’s nothing I can do about that, but I can offer you this voucher as a gesture of goodwill.”

Customer: “Just give me my voucher.” *storms off*

(Everyone at the desk rolls their eyes.)

Me: “Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to invent a time machine.”

Agent: “H***, if I had one, I’d be the one using it!”

Monsieur Shouty-Pants: A Cautionary Tale

, , , , , , | Right | January 1, 2018

(I’m half French, and the following takes place in Paris when I’m flying back from a family event. My flight is cancelled, and the inevitable queue of disgruntled passengers is starting to build around the customer service desk. I am standing behind an American chap who is in full how-dare-you-cancel-my-flight, do-you-not-know-who-I-am mode, made worse by the fact that he is shouting in English and the representative is clearly French. He eventually storms off, I suspect without the ticket he needs. The representative shakes her head and gives a shrug as I approach.)

Me: “Quel gentilhomme charmant!” *What a charming fellow!*

Representative: “Ah, je ne m’en fous pas!” *I don’t give a f***!*

(She then realises what she’s said and turns bright red.)

Me: *in hysterics* “Ah, oui, moi je n’ai pas envie de le f***** non plus!” *I wouldn’t want to f*** him either!*

(She made sure I got on the next flight. I didn’t manage to get an upgrade, but I suspect I got home much more quickly than Monsieur Shouty-Pants.)

Why On Earth Would You Need To Know Where On Earth

, , , | Right | December 16, 2017

(I work in an airport.)

Customer: “How long does it take to get to Glasgow?”

Me: “But you’re in Glasgow.”

Customer: “Duh! I need to know how long it will take to get here.”

Me: “From where?”

(Blank stare.)

Me: “I need to know where you would be departing from.”

Customer: “Why on earth do you need to know that?”

Me: “Because flying from Australia would take considerably longer than if you were to fly from say, Southampton.”

Customer: “That’s stupid. You work in an airport and you can’t even answer such a simple question!” *walks away*

(I saw him approach several other staff, but none were able to help him. He left shouting about how incompetent we all were.)

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