Fun_People Archive
1 Nov
Travel Travails
Date: Mon, 1 Nov 93 01:05:39 PST
To: Fun_People
Subject: Travel Travails
From: Dave@yost.com (Dave Yost)
From: cjackson@mv.us.adobe.com (Curtis Jackson)
From Travel Weekly September 16, 1985
Diary of a Reservations Agent
WHEN BELLS ARE RINGING -- DUCK!
By Jonathan Lee
After 130,000 conversations--all ending with "Have a nice day and thanks
for calling"--I think it's fair to say I'm a survivor. I've made it through
all the calls from adults who didn't know the difference between a.m. and
p.m., from mothers of military recruits WHO didn't trust their little
soldiers to get it right, from the woman who called to get advice on how
to handle the man who wanted to ride inside the kennel with his dog so he
wouldn't have to pay for a seat, from the woman who wanted to know why she
had to change clothes on our flight between Chicago and Washington (she
was told she'd have to make a change between the two cities) and from the
man who asked if I'd like to discuss the existential humanism that emanates
from the soul of Habeeb. In five years, I've received more than a boot
camp education regarding the astonishing lack of awareness of our
American citizenry. This lack of awareness encompasses every region of
the country, economic status, ethnic background and level of education. My
battles have included everything from a man not knowing how to spell the
name of the city he was from to another not recognizing the name "Iowa" as
being a state, to another who thought he had to apply for a foreign
passport to fly to West Virginia. They are the enemy, and they are
everywhere. In the history of the world, there has never been as
much communication and new things to learn as today. Yet, after asking a
woman from New York what city she wanted to go to in Arizona, she asked,
"Oh... is it a big place?" I talked to a woman in Denver who had never
heard of Cincinnati, a man in Minneapolis who didn't know there was more
than one city in the South ("wherever the South is"), a woman in Nashville
who asked, "Instead of paying for your ticket, can I just donate that
money to the National Cancer Society?" and a man in Dallas who tried to
pay for his ticket by sticking quarters in the pay phone he was calling
from. I knew a full invasion was on the way when, shortly after signing on,
a man asked me if we flew to Exit 35 on the New Jersey Turnpike. Then a
woman asked if we flew to area code 304. And I knew I had been shipped off
to the front when I was asked, "When an airplane comes in, does that mean
it's arriving or departing?" I remembered the strict training I had just
received--four weeks of regimented classes on airline codes, computer
technology and telephone behavior--and it allowed for no means of
retaliation. "Troops," we were told, "it's a real hell out there and ya
got no defense. You're gonna hear things so silly you can't even make
'em up. You'll try to explain stuff to your friends that you don't even
believe yourself, and just when you think you've heard it all, someone will
ask if then can get a free roundtrip ticket to Europe by reciting 'Mary
Had a Little Lamb.'" Well, Sarge was right. It wasn't long before I
suffered a direct hit from a woman who wanted to fly to Hippopotamus, N.Y.
After assuring her that there was no such place, she became irate and said
it was a big city with a big airport. I asked if Hippopotamus was near
Albany or Syracuse. It wasn't. Then I asked if it was near Buffalo.
"Buffalo," she said, "I knew it was a big animal!" Then I crawled out of
my bunker long enough to be confronted by a man who tried to catch our
flight to Maconga. I told him I'd never heard of Maconga and we certainly
didn't fly to it. But he insisted we did and to prove it showed me his
ticket: Macon, GA. Now I've done nothing during my conversational
confrontations to indicate that I couldn't understand English. But after
quoting the ROUNDTRIP fare the passenger JUST ASKED FOR he'll always ask:
"...Is that ROUNDTRIP?" But I've survived to direct the lost, correct the
wrong, comfort the weary, teach U.S. geography and give tutoring in the
spelling and pronunciation of American cities. I have been told things
like, "I can't go stand-by for your flight because I'm in a wheelchair."
I've been asked such questions as: "I have a connecting flight to
Knoxville. Does that mean the plane sticks to something?" And once a
man wanted to go to Illinois. When I asked what city he wanted go to
in Illinois, he said, "Cleveland, Ohio." After 130,000 little wars of
varying degrees, I'm a wise old veteran of the communication conflict and
can anticipate with accuracy what the next move "by them" will be.
Seventy-five percent won't have anything to write with or on. Half
will have not thought about when they're returning. A third won't know
where they're going. A few won't care if they get back. And James will be
the first name of half the men who call. But even if James doesn't care if
he gets to the city he never heard of; even if he can't spell, pronounce
or remember what city he's returning to, he'll get there because I've
worked very hard to make sure that he can. Then with a click in the
phone, he'll become a part of my past and I'll be hoping that the next
caller at least knows what day it is. Oh, and James... "Thanks for calling
and have a nice day."
Jonathan Lee is a Nashville, Tenn.-based reservations agent and
writer of television commercial jingles. This article
originally appeared in the Washington Post.
© 1993 Peter Langston