Expedia, Thou Art a Villain!

This tale of woe actually occurred a little over a week ago but, at the time, simply thinking about the experience made me want to set fire to my laptop. In short, Expedia.com is on my shit list. Admittedly, my shit list is a long and lengthy catalog of irritating people, places, and waterfowl, but these bastards have carved out a section devoted solely to their shittiness. In other words, the sheer ridiculosity* of Expedia’s actions (or lack thereof) has enraged me enough to complain to everyone and anyone who cares to hear about my miserable experience.

There’s obviously a certain amount of frustration that goes with traveling - I won’t pretend that I’m special because I ran into some insanity. I’ve dealt with my fair share of delays and cancellations, but that type of travel issue is more of a groan inspiring “why me?” experience than the rage inducing frenzy I went through coming back from Philly after New Year’s weekend.

Tuesday (Jan 2^nd), I spend the day hanging out with Lisa; 5 PM rolls around and I pack my things and get ready to go. After double-checking my travel confirmation information (hooray for rhyming!), I head out to catch a cab a little after 5:30 and arrive at the airport by 6. This is when things go sharply downhill. I casually – nay, suavely - stroll up to the electronic check-in and swipe my credit card. The machine informs me that there is some sort of problem with my reservation. Thinking that there’s a problem with my credit card, I try to check in with a debit card instead. Same error. At this point, I ask someone working behind the counter about my problem. The conversation unfolds as follows:

Me: Excuse me, but I’m trying to check in for my flight and the machine is saying there’s some sort of problem.

United Rep: Where are you flying?

Me: I’m on the 7:55 flight to O’Hare.

United Rep: Oh, well that flight was changed to 6:30 PM, so you’re too late to check in.

What?!

Since when do flights get changed to earlier times? And why the fuck am I strolling into the airport completely unaware of such a major change?! It doesn’t seem possible that someone woke up that day and made the flight leave earlier on a whim… unlike a delay, rescheduling a flight for earlier in the day is a major change in travel plans that has to involve notifying the traveler (whereas a delay involves people waiting at the airport without ramification, assuming there’s no connecting flight). Needless to say, I was not notified. So the conversation continues:

Me: What?! How was the flight made earlier? When was this change announced? And why wasn’t I informed?

United Rep: It’s the responsibility of whoever you booked with to inform you. There’s nothing I can really do about that.

Me: So what are my options?

United Rep: Well, this is the last flight to Chicago tonight, so let’s see if we can’t still get you on that flight.

FUCK.

Keep in mind that it is now about 6:05, and the flight leaves at 6:30. I obviously have to be at work the next day, so leaving the next morning is a less than appealing option.

I’m then informed that, if I make it to the gate before they close the doors, I can get on. Nice to see that they were doing me a favor by…letting me on if I get to the plane on time.

I begin to contemplate seppuku. Meanwhile, the United rep processes my ticket and luggage.

So, ticket in hand, I bolt towards security at full speed. Of course, as I arrive, I realize that the kindly United bastard didn’t give me my license back…I hightail it back to the check in desk, grab my ID, and speed off for security once again. Naturally, the line is slow, and I stand there doing a nervous little dance as I silently curse everyone ahead of me in line.

Finally, I get through security, put my shoes back on and take off for my gate like a man possessed… it’s the farthest gate from check-in. Naturally. Seriously, I’m surprised someone didn’t pop out and shoot me in the leg as I tried to make a run for it. Anyway, I’m weaving in and out of human traffic as I hear the last boarding call made for my flight… and get there right as they’re about to close the door. There is, it seems, a god. Granted, he has a seriously twisted sense of humor, but I’ll take what I can get at this point.

As you can tell, this whole experience leaves me a shade on the displeased side. The following day, I call Expedia to vent some of my frustration. They proceed to tell me how “there was a mix-up” and “somehow I wasn’t notified about the change in flights.”

Woah, woah, woah…for real? Well, I’m glad that Nancy “Expedia” Drew has cracked that case, now I can fucking put my mind at ease.

For my trouble, I’m offered a $50 voucher on Expedia.com. This temporarily appeases my anger until, as I’m about to hang up, they mention it’s a voucher for some randomly specific type of hotel. This is how you fucking try to assuage my anger? Fantastic, a voucher to an Expedia Special Rate hotel! I’ll be sure to never visit your fucking website again, polesmokers.

End rant.

*No, it’s not a word. But I’ll be damned if it shouldn’t be.