Today (the day I wrote this) I woke up early because I have a cross-country flight. I fired up my computer and used the airline’s web site to change my seat assignment and print out my boarding pass.
Well, technically, I spent an hour trying to do that, but the web site kept melting down at different points until I finally gave up and called their 800 number and handled my transaction in an efficient manner using their speech recognition system.
Well, technically, I spent 15 minutes crawling through the automated menus until my cat climbed on the desk and meowed into my speakerphone. That put the system into a mode where my only two choices were “before the flight” and “during the flight.” That’s not the sort of question you want to answer without knowing the context, so I bailed out and called again. This time I efficiently handled my transaction using their sophisticated phone system.
Well, technically, I spent what seemed like a lifetime crawling through the automated voice menus until I got an option of talking to a live person. The live person courteously and efficiently handled my transaction.
Well, technically, the system said it was transferring me to the next available agent but it disconnected me instead. On my second try, I got a nice woman in India who helped me change my seat. Then I had a wonderful flight.
Well, technically, the airline’s automated message called me an hour later and said my flight was cancelled for no particular reason. But I was automatically rebooked to a new and better flight with excellent seats and vegetarian meals. There was a good chance I could get backrubs from attractive flight attendants too.
Well, technically, they booked me on an overnight flight that would guarantee that when I gave my keynote speech to a crowd of 1,000 industry leaders soon upon landing I would look like a heroin-addicted badger that had stowed away in a jar of mayonnaise
But no problem. I changed airlines and booked a more reasonable flight. Then I breezed though the security screening and had a wonderful travel experience.
Well, technically, when you make a one-way flight at the last minute, it raises some red flags on someone’s computer. A potato-shaped woman with unfashionable glasses herded me into the “severe search” line. Someone told me to stand in a high tech phone booth sort-o-thing that blew air on me, analyzed it, and informed the technician whether I had been in contact with explosives lately. I passed the test, but I spent the whole time wondering how I could get some.
Now I’m sitting in the airport, waiting for the flight that will probably be hijacked, while writing this blog entry on my laptop.
I’m still optimistic about the backrubs.