Flying into Little Rock is always an adventure
For some reason whenever we fly into Little Rick Airport something always gets lost. Last Christmas it was DH’s baggage that went to Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic. This trip has been no exception.
Before leaving Dulles, we fastidiously checked the tags on all our bags to ensure that our names and final destination appeared perfectly printed on each baggage label. Feeling sure that there was no chance for error, we dropped our bags off at TSA and went along on our merry little way. The flight from Dulles to Atlanta was uneventful (the last leg into Little Rock I can’t say the same for, but that the subject of a different story entirely).
We arrived in Little Rock, relieved to be on the ground and interested in retrieving our baggage and getting on our way further south.
One polka-dot bag came off the conveyor belt. A sigh of relief, and a slight apprehension that maybe Mom’s bag didn’t make it.
After not a terribly long pause, and being reassured as bags were steadily coming onto the conveyor belt, Mom’s bag appeared. Another sigh of relief. I momentarily forgot that my parents didn’t share a bag, and by the time Mom reminded me that we had one more bag Dad’s bag popped out all ready to be retrieved.
There was just one thing left to collect… The Golf Clubs (and yes, they require capitalization).
We made friends with a nice retiree who has three dogs (a lab/beagle mix, a rat terrier/whippet mix with a sensitive tummy, and a white lab) and the meanest cat you’ll ever meet who’s a private pilot for hobby (Cessna 182) while we waited for the golf clubs to arrive. We waited a little longer and heard how the cat, scared at the vet one time, bit nearly clean though his finger which subsequently got infected and to this day he’s never got feeling to return to that finger. The Golf Clubs still hadn’t arrived. The door to the oversized baggage slammed shut.
Story goes that “there were weight issues” and that “this kind of thing happens all the time” and then they said they would “try” to get the clubs (failing to use their proper name and use the respect they deserve) to us within the week, but citing that since it’s a two hour drive they weren’t sure if it was possible.
Thank you Delta Airlines for yet another über fail
wow…I’ve never heard of a cat that’s a pilot for a hobby…how cool!
But seriously – they’ll “try” to get them to you? that’s ridiculous. I think it’s time to check the agreement they make when you check your baggage. I’m beginning to become extremely frustrated with the claims of “we have no responsibility” for things that get handed over with no control.
If you’re really not going to give a crap about what you do with what I give you, maybe I need to find a better way to get it there.
(and don’t get me STARTED on the ridiculous “security theater” that is the TSA checkpoints.)