Why, JAL, why.
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-seven years and one million words
You can tell that the government is now running Japan Airlines.
We showed up at 09:40 for a 10:20 flight. Not exactly a lot of time to spare, but it was only a 90-minute local flight. (And okay by our standards it was a lot of time to spare.)
But the airline had plans for us. They rejected Mari's bid for some boarding passes, and made the three of us stand around with our bags still unchecked while they tried to decide whether we'd be boarding our flight.
Because they'd oversold the flight, and now they wanted to see which paying customers they'd be putting on the flight that those customers had booked, and which they'd be putting on the next flight (a mere thirty minutes later). We told them that we'd happily take the next flight if they would just let us get on with it.
But no, that would have meant that someone would have taken action. And made a decision. Unthinkable.
By 10:00, when we still didn't have an answer (and Kenny was starting to fuss, of course) I started to take over from Mari in dealing with them, and took the tack of just asking them to make a decision.
But no. They had paid-up customers standing in front of them, but they still couldn't be bothered. I started complaining loudly in English, which is pretty much the last card a mixed couple can play in this country when dealing with some mindless juggernaut like JAL, and told them that I was worried that they were going to leave it to the last minute and then tell us to hurry to some exit gate; all resulting in delays as they loaded our one check-in bag onto the plane.
In the end, they kept us waiting 'til 10:15, then told us in a big panic that we had to run to catch the plane we'd initially booked. Mari and I were by now in pretty bad temper, and I for one was in no mood for the jibbering twit from the airline dancing up and down while the security dimwits tried to puzzle out why we were trying to board the plane with the check-in bag—an oversized thing full of all the stuff like liquids and nail clippers that we could take onto the plane.
We ended up hustling through the airport while the airline staffer looked nervous and upset, ever pushing us on after keeping us stationary in the lobby for more than half an hour. We asked if the luggage would be on our plane, and couldn't get a straight answer. We finally boarded the plane at its intended departure time, along with another couple with a small child. In the end, our flight was of course delayed, and we wound up taking off at the same time as the "next flight". The whole thing was not a major ordeal at all, but I'm left wondering. Why.
Why did the airline do this to us? Why oversell a flight at the busiest time of the year, the time when people are expected to return to their family homes? Why did they seem to be singling out families with small children? And for god's sake, why keep us in the lobby of the airport instead of letting us check in and get comfortable in some lounge while they made up their mind—do they not want our future business?
We told them immediately that we'd take the delayed flight, why keep us in limbo? We told them that we didn't want to wind up running through the airport with the child and worry about our baggage. Why put us through exactly that outcome?
Why, JAL? I somehow doubt that Mari's lengthy letter of criticism over the affair is actually going to get through the densely woven layers of idiocy that prevail within JAL, but I suppose there's always hope. In the mean time, I intend to go out of my way to avoid Japan Airlines of course.