As long as there is a service industry there will be patrons who complain.
Today I am one of them.
I was scheduled to be at a 9:30am meeting at head office in Natal yesterday and I thought it a great idea to book a flight in order to fly in and out and be back in the arms of my Beaux the same night as opposed to driving.
Driving entails 1000km's of mileage, R280 of toll roads, 10 hours of actual drive time, Imbecile's on the road and a night out on an uncomfy mattress no matter the star grading as it just aint my own bed.
The choice was quite clearly a no brainer!
I duly booked my flight on one of our many domestic airlines. Lets call them the "Green Jester Airline" for anonymity sake.
Who am I to defame an organisation in a public forum. Merely a paying customer which quite clearly means very little.
Moving along swiftly... my day began with a bang at 4am.
The trouble with flying is the compulsory hour prior to departure check in which required my presence at the check in counter by no later than 5:30am.
Despite feeling like a zombi all went smoothly and in no time at all I was zooming along towards my destination.
That is until some nut case decided that blasting the heater throughout the cabin was a good idea.
Needless to say the passengers were quick to winge and the temperature was restored to a level below cooking hot!
The rest of the morning passed quickly what with collecting baggage, acquiring my hire car, a quick toasted sandwich to keep the hunger pangs at bay and a largely successful meeting.
It was rather annoying how smoothly everything went actually as this led us to conclude the proceedings by mid afternoon which meant I had 5 hours to kill before my return flight was scheduled to board never mind depart.
Much faffing, a bit of a catch up with the head office staff, a snack and a read of a magazine later it was time to check in.
I happily presented by ticket and ID to the check in clerk and in passing enquired whether the flights were running according to schedule.
At this point she decided it may be an idea to tell me that no, the flights were in fact over an hour delayed.
Like "hello!" how about some communication with your passengers of your own accord?!?!
Once again I went back to reading my mag, sipping a cuppa and biding my time until the much anticipated departure. Bearing in mind that I have been on the go for 15 hours at this point.
The departure board continues to state "delayed" in blazing red letters almost like a demon has taken over the board and seeks to torture the weary passengers.
Oh heck I must be losing it, so I walk around a bit, buy myself a bottle of water and try to remain pleasant even though I am now scraping the barrel for decent articles left in the mag.
Still no call for the passengers and by now my bladder feels like a liquid filled balloon about to burst.
I make my way to the ablutions and lets just say that had I not been desperate and in possession of hygiene wipes of my own I would have run screaming in horror!
Let me not get started on my thoughts pertaining to public toilets.
The departure area is now chock a block with grumpy passengers and very little seating space left. I find an empty seat between two people and politely ask the one if she could move her handbag off the empty seat so that I may sit. Well I tell you I dont remember crawling into the cheese but she clearly thought I had just crawled out of it.
Nasty nasty!
Surely the departure area should be revamped though??? Flight delays seem to be a regular occurence so is there not a logical next step to follow ie. sort out the seating!
Eventually we hear the boarding call for our flight. The bizarre thing is that the passengers then start running and pushing and bustling to be first in the queue to board.
Am I just super logical or are there a helluva lot of sad people out there.
It doesnt matter who is first and who is last. Your seat is your seat and the plane aint going nowhere until we are all on board anyway.
But you go on ahead and push and fight your way to be first cos hey your prize is an extra long wait in the cabin which is humid, stinky, dirty and squashed.
The mind boggles!
I am now in my 17th active hour of the day and too lethargic to care to moan so I sit quietly in the knowledge that this aircraft has not been cleaned since the previous flight and I just dont care that bubonic plague is probably lurking everywhere!
The turbulence is atrocious and a very sweet man at the end of the isle offers his ick bag to me and tries to utter calming words. Fact is I am terrified. This is the worst turbulence I have come across ever even on international flights.
I just want to land and be done with this aircraft.
Upon landing we wait for what seems like an age for the passengers to disembark. I am seated in isle 26 out of 30 so I am way at the back.
Ho hum.
We eventually step out only to find there are another 2km to WALK to the luggage
retrieval belt.
Is this really happening or am I in some nightmare with uncomfortable shoes???
Jet setters? I think not! More like cattle in a herd!
At hour 18+ of an active day I make my way to the parkade, pay a small fortune for my parking, search for my car and in doing so now break the blister on my foot and feel the raw skin protest this awful exposure.
I keep the goal in sight.
Find the car, drive like a bat out of hell and be done with this day.
Alas, this was not to be.
Two out of three exits are having a problem reading the parking cards and guess what? It's my lucky day - I am in one of them.
I wait a further 20 minutes while a very pleasant chap tries to find someone to read my card and let me out.
I am now free, free, free.
I drive with purpose and finally pull into the driveway. My Beaux is there to help me carry my luggage and welcome me home.
The day suddenly seems ok again.
I run a bath and wash away the grime of the plane, the smell of the passengers, the irritation of the airline, the incompetence of the airports and the drumming of the onset of a headache.
Just when all that was wrong seems right there is an almighty crack of thunder and a blinding flash of lightening.
I jump out of the bath like greased lightening myself and stand there dripping wet with a head of soap suddy shampoo.
This is so bad it has become hilarious. I dont suppose I can write a letter to any authority complaining about the timing of the weather so I tie my soapy hair up and get into bed just like that and I tell you I had the best nights sleep I have had in a long while.
Maybe driving aint so bad afterall.
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