I have a very small suggestion. If I am to be charged for the privilege of taking my luggage on your plane, it would be nice to have it waiting for me when I get off your plane. And if not waiting for me then, it would be nice to receive it less than 48 hours after arriving at my destination.
You see, it’s been two days since your plane took me to Newark (not New York) at 1:10 AM (not 10:40 PM), at which time I discovered you had not bothered to reroute my luggage as well as my flight. I went to bed at 4:30 AM and slept fitfully and rose early, hoping you’d knock on my door to return my several hundred dollars worth of clothes, shoes, makeup, and hair-styling implements. Your website said I’d receive the luggage within six hours of 4:00 PM. I sat in my apartment all that day, waiting. I sat in my apartment all through the night, waiting. I bypassed my run in the park while I waited. I could not pick up my roommate’s Effing Cat while I waited, so I left her to bite and claw at the hand of the girl taking care of her.
The next day, approximately 14 hours after you promised he would arrive, the first cretin you sent buzzed my door. When I came down to collect my luggage, he discovered that he had neglected to bring it along! After much sluggish poking about, the first cretin promised you would send another — brighter than he — before 5:00 PM, when I was supposed to leave to pick up my roommate’s Effing Cat.
I suppose I should be impressed that the first cretin you sent knew how to buzz doors, because the second cretin didn’t know how. Perhaps the first cretin also forgot to pass along my apartment number. Or perhaps the clear directions on the front of the door were too complicated for the second man’s cretin brain. Instead of buzzing, the second cretin called me repeatedly — on my phone, which was dead, because the charger was in the suitcase you seem to have problems getting to me.
So I waited. In the interim, I ingested thousands of calories out of sheer boredom, again foregoing my body-and-soul-cleansing run in the hope you’d show up. I started thinking too much out of boredom, and thus underwent yet another career crisis. I paced alone in that empty apartment, wearing my last pair of clean underwear and pajamas, looking like hell and questioning my talent and calling and meaning in life — all because your first cretin could not count and your second could not buzz someone’s door.
I despaired. I sent my mother an email with the words “SCREW THEM.” (Yes, meaning you.) I went out and bought a new charger. I took a subway to the Upper East Side to pick up Effing Cat. I came back and went out to buy Effing Cat litter and food. Effing Cat caught the note of despair and meditated ending it all with a jump out the window. I called you up on the phone and was icy and frigid and nasty and cold. (“Christian icy?” my mother asks. No. Heathen icy in fact.)
And so the second cretin returned hours later, and I signed for my luggage exactly 48 hours after it should have arrived. Thanks for your “safe, dependable and friendly air transportation.” I can see that my “safety, comfort and convenience” and emotional health and Urban Outfitter outfits are your “most important concerns.” It’s nice to have underwear and hair implements once again.
Sincerely,
Stultiloquence
Posted in Stridence
Tags: airline delays, American Airlines, delayed baggage
