How Do the Airlines Infuriate Fliers? Let Me Count the Ways

To the surprise of absolutely no one except airline executives, air travel continues to tank, with no quick recovery in sight.

“Suffice to say, demand is off,” said the befuddled boss of Northwest. Delta’s chief said business is down as much as 40% from this time last year.

Chopping some fares has not helped. United Airlines commercials in which giddy employees extol the virtues of flying have not helped, despite the one in which a pilot assures us he is the kind of guy who really means it when he says hello.

I wondered whether, with that $15-billion federal bailout, you and I had paid for this clod to tell us he’s not kidding when he says hello.

But I digress. Fortunately for the airlines, I am the kind of guy who really means it when I say I think I can help.

The economic slump and the drop in business travel are obviously a big part of the problem. But indulge me in a wild guess here. You think part of the problem is that the airlines haven’t done zip to significantly bolster security since Sept. 11? If United had spent on security what it spent on those hokey commercials, we might be more inclined to fly.

Congress has not distinguished itself either, and continues bickering over an airport security bill that should not have taken more than two days to put together, tops.

Then there’s President Bush, who went to Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport to tell us it was safe to fly, and then opposed federalizing airport security. Last week, not far from where Bush gave us the green light, some wacko got through a United security checkpoint with nine knives and a stun gun. He might as well have brought the bazooka along too.

But I’ve written plenty about security risks and the lap-dog regulators who make them possible. Today, I’d like to fill airline executives in on just a few of the 1 million or so other outrages that make travel by burro seem a reasonable alternative.

You’re ready to cash in your hard-earned frequent flier miles and find that although the flight you want is half empty, you’re out of luck. They’ve already given up the handful of seats allotted for freebies.

You make a reservation three weeks in advance and they refuse to give you a seat assignment, and then when you get to the airport they cram you into a middle seat, sandwiched between a bad case of bronchitis and a national pie-eating champion.

You see a great deal advertised, call the airline, wait on hold long enough to lose several relatives, and then find out the terrific $249 fare is actually $1,760 on the days you’ve got to be in Cleveland.

You get to the airport, stand in line like a cow in a cattle chute, and when you finally work your way to the counter, some clerk starts with the typing, staring zombie-like into a monitor, absent any recognizable human quality, typing and typing and typing as if trying to make contact beyond the known universe.

Your travel plans change, you call the airline, and they flat-out refuse to give you a refund and whack you $100 a ticket to make the slightest little change.

You’d like to leave at 10 a.m. instead of 11? Hundred bucks.

You’d like to leave Tuesday instead of Wednesday? Hundred bucks.

You’ve traveled a million miles on this airline and wonder if they might make an exception in appreciation of your business? Hundred bucks.

In Montrose, Leslie Emer of Village Travel hears complaints about the airlines all day long, and she has a pet peeve of her own.

“Why do they always advertise a one-way fare?” she asks. “It’s like advertising the price of one shoe based on buying a pair.”

Emer is ticked off because the airlines have tried to bury her industry, skimping on commissions and undercutting it with online deals. “If they put us entirely out of business, they’ll raise fares and customers will have nowhere else to go. As it is, I can sometimes find cheaper fares than the ones they offer on the Internet.”

No industry, anywhere, at any time, has had worse customer relations, treated its own employees more shabbily, or spent more time lobbying for the freedom to continue all of the above.

And poor, beleaguered airline execs wonder what to do?

My first suggestion would be for the CEOs themselves to spend a few weeks making their own reservations by phone, schlepping their own bags, flying coach and sampling the microwaved cardboard they call dinner.

Then they ought to check out Southwest Airlines, the only carrier that seems to have any idea how to treat customers.

And finally, if they want our business back, they ought to spend more than a nickel on safety, quit the bait-and-switch air fare tricks and get rid of the ridiculous restrictions.

You’d like to depart on Monday instead of Tuesday?

No problem.

No charge.

Thank you for calling.

*

Steve Lopez writes Monday, Wednesday and Friday. He can be reached at steve.lopez@latimes.com