Wednesday was a travel day on our “Summer of 60” tour. Moving day, from San Jose Airport to our friends’ home in Scottsdale, Arizona.
Got a great fare on Southwest Airlines. San Jose is a nice airport. What could go wrong?
Start with a mechanical delay. That’s OK, it happens. A 3:30 flight became a 4:15 flight became a 5:50 flight became a “we’re switching out planes” flight that would leave at 6:30.
And in the middle of boarding…this:
A fire. Somewhere. Nowhere near us, but somewhere. A slowwwwwww evacuation. A promise that the plane would NOT LEAVE without all passengers. Fine.
So, of course, the plane left without all of the passengers. Our friends, who were caught in security hell.
We were assured they would be on the next flight, 20 minutes behind us. (They, in fact, were.) The flight attendant saw fire in my eyes.
“What would you like to drink?”
“A diet Coke.”
“You don’t want a diet Coke. What do you really want?”
“A triple Jack on the rocks.”
“On the way.”
THAT was outrageous customer service.
I hate the decision some dweeb made for the flight to leave after delays and an evacuation without all passengers.
But that flight attendant? I love that flight attendant.
You gotta love a flight attendant.
(And I do.)