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albadgerI'm now in NYC with mein host the rare and wonderful ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dominicvine, and STILL NO BAG. Picking up the bag was Friday's assignment -- when I spoke to the Delta clerk who had tracked the bag to Asheville NC, I'd asked that they send the bag to JFK and keep it there (he offered home delivery but I couldn't expect Dominic to wait around for that) -- I told him I wouldn't be able to pick it up on Thursday, I'd get it Friday, don't move it. I was thinking, don't give them any opportunity for another screw-up. Oh, but Delta is shrewder than that.
Dominic offered to accompany me to the airport -- he suggested we combine it with a visit to Rockaway Beach, have a little fun -- but it was far too rainy and gloomy to enjoy any beach, plus we were on the A train that went to Far Rockaway rather than Rockaway Beach... and Far Rockaway is kind of a sad-looking place actually. So, off to airport. Delta has two terminals, Terminal 2 for Domestic and Terminal 3 for International. My bag's domestic, right? We went to Terminal 2, and were informed snippily that the bag was at Terminal 3, Area D.
I should add here that I contacted Delta before we left and verified that my bag was at JFK.
We slogged, soaked, to Terminal 3 -- no underground walkway, no awning, just rain -- and got to the baggage service area. Clerk took my claim number, typed it in the computer, stared at it for a minute, then started shaking her head slowly.
"Was your final destination Washington DC?" She asked me.
It wasn't that bizarrely incompetant on Delta's part, but close. In the notes that this clerk could dig up (so she told me; I didn't see the screen & don't put it past any Delta employee to lie), I was to have picked up the bag on Thursday, and since I didn't, it was "expedited" and delivered... to Sarasota. After I had expressly requested that it remain at JFK, let them know that I couldn't pick it up on Thursday, they send it to where it should have been days 3 days earlier. That doesn't make any sense at all.
I admit I exploded at the clerk. I don't really feel bad for that, which is unusual, but I do feel bad that Dominic had to see it. The clerk's been through worse; I'm enough of an actor to have noticed when she switched personalities, from snippy don't-bother-me-you-don't-know-my-job to how-dare-you to you-poor-thing. That's part of the training when you are front line for an incompetent corporation.
Well, day wasted... Dominic says he'll be at home working on things today, so he suggested it be delivered to his place (which is totally cool btw, great art on the walls, neato odd angles to the room layout, bitchin' view). I'm going to jointhornyc and mudcub for a matinee in a bit, then I'm going to look for a really, really nice host gift to try to make up to Dominic for the trouble I've been.
Really, really nice. I've got it narrowed down to either Zach Galifinakis or a Faberge Egg. Good thing New York is such a great shopping town.
dominicvine, and STILL NO BAG. Picking up the bag was Friday's assignment -- when I spoke to the Delta clerk who had tracked the bag to Asheville NC, I'd asked that they send the bag to JFK and keep it there (he offered home delivery but I couldn't expect Dominic to wait around for that) -- I told him I wouldn't be able to pick it up on Thursday, I'd get it Friday, don't move it. I was thinking, don't give them any opportunity for another screw-up. Oh, but Delta is shrewder than that.Dominic offered to accompany me to the airport -- he suggested we combine it with a visit to Rockaway Beach, have a little fun -- but it was far too rainy and gloomy to enjoy any beach, plus we were on the A train that went to Far Rockaway rather than Rockaway Beach... and Far Rockaway is kind of a sad-looking place actually. So, off to airport. Delta has two terminals, Terminal 2 for Domestic and Terminal 3 for International. My bag's domestic, right? We went to Terminal 2, and were informed snippily that the bag was at Terminal 3, Area D.
I should add here that I contacted Delta before we left and verified that my bag was at JFK.
We slogged, soaked, to Terminal 3 -- no underground walkway, no awning, just rain -- and got to the baggage service area. Clerk took my claim number, typed it in the computer, stared at it for a minute, then started shaking her head slowly.
"Was your final destination Washington DC?" She asked me.
It wasn't that bizarrely incompetant on Delta's part, but close. In the notes that this clerk could dig up (so she told me; I didn't see the screen & don't put it past any Delta employee to lie), I was to have picked up the bag on Thursday, and since I didn't, it was "expedited" and delivered... to Sarasota. After I had expressly requested that it remain at JFK, let them know that I couldn't pick it up on Thursday, they send it to where it should have been days 3 days earlier. That doesn't make any sense at all.
I admit I exploded at the clerk. I don't really feel bad for that, which is unusual, but I do feel bad that Dominic had to see it. The clerk's been through worse; I'm enough of an actor to have noticed when she switched personalities, from snippy don't-bother-me-you-don't-know-my-job to how-dare-you to you-poor-thing. That's part of the training when you are front line for an incompetent corporation.
Well, day wasted... Dominic says he'll be at home working on things today, so he suggested it be delivered to his place (which is totally cool btw, great art on the walls, neato odd angles to the room layout, bitchin' view). I'm going to join
thornyc and mudcub for a matinee in a bit, then I'm going to look for a really, really nice host gift to try to make up to Dominic for the trouble I've been.Really, really nice. I've got it narrowed down to either Zach Galifinakis or a Faberge Egg. Good thing New York is such a great shopping town.
