This blog is not for the light-hearted or easily offended. If either one of those descriptions applies to you, i would suggest you start drinking before you read this blog. A sense of humor is suggested. If you don't have one that sucks for you … find one and get a life!
So as you may have guessed, I’ve been out of town. Of course, I’m back now but our trip to the Dominican Republic was basically a fiasco. Here’s what happened:
The five of us were scheduled to fly out on Christmas Eve day to the DR. Now this day is supposed to be one of the easiest travel days of the year but typically, the weather was awful.
This year on December 24th there was a massive rainstorm going up the east coast and specifically around the southeast. We were flying through Atlanta on Delta Airlines. Although Delta’s motto is “we get you there” it wasn’t the case for us and especially not for our luggage.
We had a 7:00 AM flight to Atlanta from Greensboro and we had to leave here at 5:45 so there was much grumbling from the kids. Daniel actually never even bothered to go to bed because … 22 year old boys.
We get to the airport and there is much discussion over whether Andie and Daniel are going to check their luggage. We point out that Keely, Kevin and I are going to check ours and there’s really no point in lugging it through the Atlanta airport so they begrudgingly check their luggage as well. This will definitely come back to haunt us.
We get on the plane and once we’re settled they announce a “gate hold” as the Atlanta airport is now shut down because of a tornado watch (or warning or something … I can never remember which is which). Time goes by and they finally let us off the plane and we’re chilling and we know that this flight is one hour late and then two hours late and so on and so on.
However, the flight from Atlanta to Punta Cana still reads “on time” so we make arrangements to “stand by” for the next flight and the next flight and even a flight the next day from Atlanta because things are pretty damn booked.
Finally, two hours late we take off and get to Atlanta. Miraculously our flight, 543, has not YET taken off from Atlanta. Kevin, Daniel and Andie sprint for the flight and Keely and I come behind (I’m lazy and Keely is NOT supposed to run … remember her hip?). We get there and we’re so, so happy we made the flight until we’re informed that the crew is now “possibly over their hours” so we might not have a pilot.
Kevin goes down to the gate for the next flight, 563, and turns out that it’s scheduled to leave before our original flight so we get on that flight. After all, who even knows if 543 will ever take off?
So we finally get to Punta Cana at 7:30 PM instead of 2:00 PM but hey, we made it right????
But our luggage didn’t. So we stand in line at the Delta baggage place and finally we get to make our claim that our 5 bags didn’t make it. They tell us that two bags, Andie and Daniel’s, are coming in our original flight 543 so the claim is for only 3 bags. Not only that but 543 is landing even as we speak!
We wait and guess what? Daniel and Andie’s luggage are NOT on the flight but now the line has about 40 people in it and it’s around 8:00 PM and our driver is waiting so we go to the house we’ve rented.
Here’s where things go sideways.
I call the 800-number for Delta and they say that call volume is so high that I have to call back later.
I call and get no answer again. Remember it’s Christmas Eve and I believe millions of bags are lost.
We are all annoyed but we go to sleep.
I get a call at 1:00 AM saying that a driver is on the way with 3 bags.
At 1:30 AM I get my bag, Keely’s bag and Kevin’s bag.
Yea!!! Except my bag is actually Daniel’s bag. Yeah, they just kind of mislabeled it.
So everyone but Andie and myself has a bag.
Which isn’t a problem for me per se but since Andie never intended on checking her bag her glasses and medication are in her bag.
We wake up, it’s Christmas Day. Andie is NOT amused but Keely loans her a bathing suit.
I call the airport in the DR. Good news! They say the two bags are on 543, which is predictably, two hours late.
I call again because I can see the flight is landed. They have my bags they say.
I call again later because where are the bags. They are being delivered they say.
Where the fuck are my bags. HELLO???
IT’s now late in the day and I’m tracking my bags and I’ve called the airport no less than 10 times and it’s difficult to find English speakers and I keep getting conflicting reports.
I start tweeting Delta Assist. They finally answer and tell me that my bags are in New York JFK and Atlanta. WHAT. THE. FUCK?????
I call the 800 number again. They say they’ll call back. Well at least the computer did. Andie is in a HORRIBLE mood because she’s been wearing her contacts for day’s straight.
Finally they call back and say that one bag is in Punta Cana and the other is in Atlanta and since I never attached them to our file nobody knew what to do with them.
Boy was I pissed. I explained I had called no less than 20 times and they kept assuring me that the bags were on our record and that was bullshit and Andie went upstairs and slammed her door and it basically sucked.
That night at 9:00 PM I got my bag so basically the only one without a bag was the one who never wanted to check her bag anyways.
The next day I call the 800 number again and they assure me that the bag is on 543, the early flight. It wasn’t.
Then they assured me it was on 563, which is the next flight. We call the airport and they say that it’s on the last flight of the day and I’m basically irate but they tell me I have permission to spend $50 getting Andie some shit. WHAT????
Finally, we need to go to the airport anyways to pick up a friend of Keely and Andie’s who is staying with us and I go to the Delta office.
By now, Andie is convinced that her bag is lost and I’m pretty convinced that her bag is off adventuring in the world but they took my number and I ask if I can go to the baggage area and look for it but they say it’s past customs so NO I CAN’T!!
Finally the guy takes my baggage ticket and Andie and I wait for Kathleen (although it turns out she came in at a different terminal anyways) and all of a sudden (well really about 15 minutes) out comes the baggage guy with Andie’s bag.
Fireworks go off.
A national holiday is declared.
I breathe a huge sigh of relief.
And that’s the story of our goddamn adventure with Delta Luggage which could have been solved easier if someone hadn’t fucking lied to me about the entire thing down in the DR.
Moral of the story: Don’t check luggage. Don’t bring stuff. Don’t fly. Don’t go on vacation and most importantly, don’t bring Andie!!!