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Carol Perkins: The Last Leg Previous Column: Meatloaf By Carol Perkins The final leg of the Vegas trip consisted of a layover in Denver. This short layover turned into a nightmare. When the plane was in line for take off, I thought there was too much delay. Something was not right, and soon the pilot announced we were returning to the gate because of mechanical problems. The passengers moaned collectively. This was the same plane we had flown in from Vegas to Denver, so there was something wrong then. We taxied back to the gate and maintenance men came on and off, talking to the pilot. The girl in front of me whimpered. One loud man yelled for beer! A plane full of drunks was all we needed. Over the next two hours as we sat on the plane half of the passengers lined up to use the bathroom. Someone played "Rocky Top" on his phone, but nobody sang. The pilot announced that we would be deboarding and getting on another plane in an hour. That didn't happen. Instead, the flight was cancelled. By now it is almost ten o'clock. The pilot and airline crew went home, leaving one customer service person to handle over a hundred people. The next day's bookings filled quickly and left most of us looking for an alternative way home. At our own expense! Guy walked a mile to retrieve our luggage that was circling by now, not thinking about coming back through security. The old boarding pass was no longer valid. He called me from a stranger's phone. "I can't get back to you." I couldn't get to him having no idea where to go, so a security lady actually came with a wheelchair to get me. When I reached him, neither of us could return to our gate. We weren't the only ones stranded. I checked nearby hotels. Booked. By then it was midnight. We booked the first flight out of Denver on Southwest, leaving at eight the next morning at a cost of $1200, and sat in the miserable seats until time to board. No toothbrush; nothing. This airlines charges for carry-ons, so to save money, I packed everything in one bag. That's a laugh. I now must file a claim, and in reading the fine print, I may not be able to collect more than the amount of the original flight from Denver to Nashville. Never will I ever fly this airline again. I won't give a name unless I don't get a refund; then I'll tell the world. I know they're scared! You can contact Carol at carolperkins06@gmail.com. This story was posted on 2022-11-03 06:49:44
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Have comments or corrections for this story? Use our contact form and let us know. More articles from topic Carol Perkins:
Carol Perkins: Meatloaf Carol Perkins: You get what you pay for Carol Perkins: See the World Carol Perkins: Sewing Teddy Bears for OCC Carol Perkins: Operation Christmas Child Carol Perkins: The Case of the Missing Keys Part II Carol Perkins: The Case of the Missing Keys Carol Perkins: Guess What's Wrong Carol Perkins: Memories of Recess Carol Perkins: Owning Your Own Truth View even more articles in topic Carol Perkins |
 
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