There's No Place Like Newark

June 17 Our intrepid travelers begin their day with a relaxing Fathers's Day breakfast on their very own screened porch. A scant twelve hours later, it ends in a cramped hotel room in Eliazabeth, New Jersey. How did this happen you might ask yourself? Well, the two word answer is United Airlines.

To hear how truly awful they are, pray read on. I received several texts and even an email or two in the morning, assuring us that all was well and our initial flight to Newark (through which we were scheduled to connect to Milan) was lovely and on time. At about 12:30, literally just as we were about to head out the door to the airport was the first sign of trouble. An automated call, informing us that instead of a 2:45 departure, we were now looking at a 4:18 departure. However, the arrival in Newark was still posted as 4:09. Well, that's a neat trick, isn't it? Because our connecting flight was scheduled for 6:30, we knew we were potentially in trouble, so I jumped on the phone and Tony jumped on the Internet. I got my first taste of what United loosely refers to as "customer service" (which even Claire was putting air quotes around by day's end) and should have seen the writing on the wall. The rep put me on hold not less than six times,several of them for more than ten minutes at a stretch. Tony found a flight that we could make via National, but by the time the woman came back from hold the third or fourth time, thirty minutes had elapsed and we had no hope for that flight. Meanwhile without asking my okay, she switched us to the second flight. I asked her to put us back on the first one, which entailed another wait, totaling thirty minutes. Next we asked her to check on alternates from Newark or really from anywhere. She listed one or two, but halfheartedly. Tony has them all pulled up and we has to tell HER the flight numbers. Quite a few had seats but we couldn't have them because they were in business class. Sigh.

At this point we figured it might be easier to work with an agent face to face so we confirmed we were back on our first flight (for which we lost our seat assignments because we booked "less than 24 hours ahead - hahahahaha) and headed to Dulles. Our first "human" contact was at the check-in counter. When we explained our situation, the employee told us that we wouldn't make the connection and to go to "special service." Well I certainly felt special at that point. This person went through the motions of looking for other flights but told us we really would have no problem making the connection. I was asking questions, because I could see that our plane, which was actually at Dulles, still had to go to Richmond and back before it went to Newark, hadn't even taken off yet. She got testy and asked "where did I get my information?" Um...the United website? Which clearly, btw, said that the delay was because the plane was "waiting for a flight crew." it also showed that United knew there was a delay as early as 10:30, but didn't notify us until after 12:30. With just a bit more notice we could have easily made the National flight. So, assured by our "special services" agent that we had enought time, and having some air blown up our skirts about possible replacement airplanes and the possibility of the Milan flight being delayed, we headed to the gate. When we arrived, I chatted with a nice FA for our flight who expressed doubts about our making it. So as the boarding time grew closer, I stood in line at the gate counter for one more opinion. The gate rep was rude, naturally, but assured me that she was going to get this plane (which still hadn't arrived) boarded lickety split and that we damned well better be on it. When I mentioned that several expressed doubts about the connection, she snapped, "well who were you asking? A person standing next to you?" I told her that the information for several United employees. She then assured me that they didn't know as much as she did, because she was part of United Express.

So the plane arrives, we get on (a tiny plane so we think it should load quickly) but of course it doesn't. Finally all are onboard and the door is shut. Ready to go!! Except...oh yeah, they forgot to put GAS in it! Silly United! So, the door opens, and we anxiously await the arrival of the gas truck, knowing that each passing minute was diminishing our chances. I'd say we spent a good 20-25 minutes waiting and then fueling. Okay, so off we trundle towards the runway, thinking we still have some hope because you GOTTA have hope, right? Wrong. Our pilot pulls our plane out of the takeoff line and basically parks it for ten minutes with no explanation. Eventually he comes on the intercom and we hear something staticy message about needing to wait for paperwork or something and that it was going to be another 15 minutes of sitting on the tarmac.

That's when I realized we really weren't going to make it. Knowing our itinerary and what we had booked, I just lost Venice. I really hate United Airlines, but they weren't done with me yet. Let's add some insult to injury, shall we? Upon landing, i check my phone, praying for a miracle, butnourndlight was alreasy gone. The girls and I waited for the luggage (plane so small that luggage had to be stowed below) and sent Tony ahead to the customer service desk to weigh our options. While we waited for the luggage, I heard a pilot and the nice FA I had spoken to earlier, talking about all the delays and that it originated with a "broken" plane. The FA spotted me and asked if I had missed my flight. I said yes, and she said "they owe you vouchers - hotel and food." Another ten minutes of waiting for luggage, we find Tony at the "Customer Service" desk and he is clearly upset.

I soon find out why. Those of you who know Tony, know that it takes a LOT to upset him. United has saved the best for last. We get Attila the Hun in a skirt. She was rude. She was accusatory ("why did you take this flight?"). She was supposedly looking up connecting flights through Madrid and Lisvon that involved us splitting up and then I heard the word stand by. I asked if she was booking us on something with standby because frankly, no thanks. She stopped what she was doing and proceeded to lecture me LOUDLY about how I needed to let her do her job. She was trying to HELP me you know. Seriously, a three-minute lecture. Then she asks Tony if he speaks Spanish. He says no. She says, "why not? Your name is de la Paz. So Tony has to defend himself by explaining that he is Filippino. Attila (actually Shannon because i have taken the time to note her name tag) launches into what I believe to be Portuguese or Spanish to the woman next to her, clearly she is disgusted with us and feels the need to vent. Then the adjacent lady feels a little sorry for us and intervenes. We could try connections through Europe but they do involve standbys and splitting up. More connections seem like a bad idea so we officially give up and allow her to book us on the next evening's flight to Milan. We are defeated. As we get ready to slink away, I ask Attila to write her name down, which she refuses to do and that sets her off again. She yells/lectures me about how HARD she tried to help us. I admit, I laughed a little and asked again for her name. She Said "it's Maria." I mentioned that that was interesting based on the fact that her name tag said "Shannon." Then she aputters that her name is Shannon Maria and we walk away.

We try to console ourselves (not much luck there) with a terrible dinner at the airport, followed by a shuttle bus to an "okay" hotel, and a beer at the bar (the girls had juice). We did, however, have an unobstructed view of some lovely oil refineries.