Paris In The Morning… almost

I booked a ticket to Paris, France. Winning!

I left Richmond, VA all alone, excited about taking the red-eye, sleeping and waking up in Europe – for the first time ever. I had also put my myth buster hat on and started drinking as soon as I hit the airport, because I wanted to test the effects of altitude against your intoxication.

My flight from RVA to JFK was pretty awesome. It was nighttime and I could definitely feel the 3 whiskey sours I had earlier that hour. I couldn’t wait to buy some drinks before my 7-hour flight from JFK to Paris.

Until.

I arrived at JFK and had no idea how to get from Terminal 1 to Terminal 2. I think I was supposed to take the airport metro, but I totally ended up walking outside with my entire luggage – except my checked bag. This was epic fail number 1.

When I arrived to the Air France counter, they told me that I was on the wait list. I expressed my concern and that I didn’t understand why I would be on any wait list, since I had a ticket in hand.

“Sorry, there was a flight cancelled earlier today (flight 7) and we’ve been trying to book people onto all flights possible. Even people who are rescheduling because of this weekends hurricane.” said the lady that represented Air France.

But.

I had a ticket. I had this ticket for a week and it clearly said that I was supposed to be on that flight. Why would Air France give someone else a seat on a plane that I already had a seat on? Why would they give precedence to other passengers that had already been cancelled when I was scheduled on a flight that was on time? More importantly, why would Air France give seats to employees (jump seats?) before giving seats to customer who paid for seats?

I was moved to a different line where I was supposed to wait and see if my name got called. They called all of 3 names. Then they only address flight number 7 folks. It wasn’t until I begged the lady to help me, that she told me I was rejected from the flight.

What does that mean?

“Sir, it means you have to leave. We don’t have a seat for you.” said the lady with an attitude. I totally get that it must have been a stressful day. So many people trying to leave NY, to avoid the hurricane and it was clearly past their closing time. She was ready to go to Club Kue. I overheard this while I waited to hear if I got a seat on the flight I paid for already.

“But I connected from RIC. I’m not from NY. What am I supposed to do? “ I asked.

“You walk over to that line and they will set you up in a hotel.” she said with her loving attitude. Insert sarcasm font.

This kind red-haired lady helped me. She took my passport and wrote down my information. She walked away to check on something but never gave me back my passport. I started to panic after 20 minutes. I asked the lady who originally helped me, and she went to go look. Oops. The lady forgot about me. “Here is your passport sir.” Yeah, thanks.

Fifty of us waited for a bus that was said to come pick us up. While we waited, all of us attempted to be rescheduled. The airlines in NY were closed on Saturday and Sunday, preventive measures, for the impending Hurricane, named Irene.

“We can get you on a flight to Paris on Thursday” said the gentlemen that represented Air France. “But today is Friday, and um, you are only giving me a hotel for one night.” I was in disbelief.

“We aren’t responsible for the hurricane sir. We aren’t going to pay for your whole stay here. The airport is closing.” he replied.

“I get that. You aren’t responsible for Irene. But you are responsible for over selling my flight and kicking me off the list. And, because of that action, I am now stuck in New York, with an impending epic hurricane, with one day of hotel stay. Oh, and by the way, the city is supposed to evacuate.”  I asserted.

He gave me no reply. Instead, he handed me a number to call for Air France.

I had another battle to fight. My bags were checked in Richmond, and now I wasn’t going to Paris anymore. Where were my bags?

It took the airline 3 hours to find them. No bus ever came to pick us up for the hotel. Groups left in taxis while I was down stairs looking for my bags. No one could tell me which hotel I was supposed to go to anymore. I was stuck again.

That night, I learned that JFK doesn’t have car rental agencies in the departure area of Terminal 2. Instead, you have to hope on a metro a few stations over. With my entire luggage, I chugged over to agency number 1. Finding it was hard, but now that I was there – easy enough! There was a sign in front that said cars were available. 1 hour in line, only to find out, they lied. No cares were available.

2 agencies later I found a car. But wait, they don’t take debt cards.

Only 1 agency left. Thankfully, the man took pity on me and let me use my debt card for a one-way car rental from JFK to RIC. $600 dollars down the drain already. My battery was dying and, well, I never thought to bring a car charger with me on my trip to Paris.

I started my (approximately) 7-hour drive back from JFK to RIC. Paid all of those lovely tolls and drove through some scary rain. I slept off the side of a hotel after I noticed that my eyes were closing on me on the road. After an hours nap, I headed on my way again.

I tried to call my friend and stop by her house in DC, but she wasn’t at home. Figures, my luck wasn’t the best. So I just kept on trucking.

The best part was that I got to RIC and only enjoyed about 1 hour of electricity before Hurricane Irene knocked it out. After being awake for more than 28 hours, I fell asleep on my couch.

I called Air France and the customer service lady was really rude to me. I gave her my flight number and she said she couldn’t help me because the notes in all in French. This confused me, because you’d think that Air France should have the resources available to read or translate from French. She escalated to a supervisor. After 30 minutes of waiting, I asked if she could call me back. “I’m sorry Sir. We don’t do call backs. There are thousands of calls waiting” she replied.

I had to tell her that despite that fact, I needed to hang up after waiting for 30 minutes for them to translate notes from French.

I have yet to receive a response from Air France. I’d like for them to acknowledge they a mistake or at least took an action that inconvenienced many others and me. A day hotel stay was not sufficient. Especially since I couldn’t even take advantage of that day since they couldn’t tell me where to go after I finally got my luggage.

Maybe reimburse my car rental, since you left me abandoned in New York while a hurricane was en route? Maybe give me a voucher for a flight from RIC to Europe? At a bare minimum, you owe me a refund of at least the ticket – at least.

I’m writing them a formal letter today and will attempt to call them again tomorrow. I will keep you on posted on how Air France decides to respond to this situation. I’m in contact, and made friends among the peers that went through the same ordeal, and hope they all are compensated as well.

Stay tuned. I’ll make it to Paris, regardless.

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