Air Canada: lesson learned, you don’t want to talk to me
It would appear that somewhere along the way, a corporate mandate or some other thingamawhoie, maybe a memo, went around to the entire company that went something like this:
To Whom It May Concern:
Should any customer prefer to speak with a human being, it is your duty to be as cranky/misinformed/slow/unhelpful as possible - until they get the message that we’d rather have them use a kiosk or go to our website.
That is all.
Signed,
Mr./Mrs. Person Incharge
Web check-in is pretty much the only way to go now. Waiting until you get to the airport, and insisting on standing in that line that’s twice as long and five million times as slow now serves as some sort of indication that a person is a sucker for pain and enjoys moving two feet every five minutes. However, if you’re unsure of how this process works and you haven’t flown since 1983, clicking your way through check in on your computer, while a rousing game of solitare occupies the other half of your brain would be beyond uncomfortable…like most of us, you’d probably stand in that darn line a few times first before finally saying “never…ever…ever again…”
Now my flights back and forth between Los Angeles and Toronto are usually uneventful - since I’m usually on the redeye or taking the first flight out, I’m generally cranky enough that talking to an overworked/underpaid check-in employee is probably not in my (or his/her) best interest. With a few clicks, I’m checked in, and at most I have to interact with someone briefly to get tags for my checked bags (shoes, people…it’s the shoes that generally make carry on not an option…). But last night provided a new dilemma, as well as a fresh example of the lack of customer care that Air Canada is now oh so well known for.
While I was supposed to be boarding in about 50 minutes, it only took a couple minutes of pouting and one good “pleeeease” from a certain someone for me to roll over and decide to stay through the weekend. On top of that, the last five days have been too full of angst and fretting to really enjoy being back in Toronto. So I called, since that seemed like the right thing to do, and was told it would cost me $650 in fare difference to change the flight.
Silence…a few cricket noises…
“Okay then…well…thanks.”
So I check to see if there’s anything I can do on the website. I don’t know what it is, maybe just because I haven’t done it before, but the thought of changing my flight online seemed weird - very weird. But you can, and I did, because I can (and will) take the exact same route on Sunday as I was supposed to take today for a whopping $40…which consists solely of the mandatory change fee.
Why this option was not presented to me on the phone, other than to see if I’d fold and say “$650 it is…”, I haven’t a clue. Between Saturday and Monday, there were at least three different flight options (two of which that would have been direct even) that I could have switched to for the same price. Ms. Customer Support merely asked what day (”Sunday”) and time “Morning/Mid Day”) I’d like to switch to. Not helpful, not helpful, not helpful…….
Of course, I’m probably more irked by this than I’d normally be since I’ve had far too many run ins with misinformed/unhelpful customer support lately. And that organization just so happens to hold way too many cards for me to risk pointing my finger more directly (at least in writing - buy me a beer…I guarantee your mouth will drop open and “You’re kidding me…” will escape your lips once or twice…)
Could someone please get Canada 3000 up and running again…pretty pleeeeeease?
(Hey, it’s worth a shot - it worked for Adam.)
Leave a Reply