Oh Delta, Where Is Thy Sting?

                I have this odd love/hate relationship with Delta Airlines.  To be truthful, it’s mostly love.  At times however, not so much.  A previous post refers to Delta as the new Greyhound, likening them to a bus line toting the huddled masses around the country with really only one promise… They’ll do the driving.  Remember the old advertising line?  “Go Greyhound and leave the driving to us!”  Maybe Delta should try that.  How about “Fly Delta and leave the flying of the airplane to us… for everything else, you’re on your own!” 

                “LOOK HONEY, IT’S RED WINE…”   I was seated in economy on an overseas flight on my beloved Delta and, in a moment of cat-like curiosity, asked the flight attendant what kind of red wine they had on the cart during the initial beverage service.  The reply speaks for itself.  It didn’t help when I retorted “Would you mind if I sniffed the screw-off cap?”  I spent the next seven hours slunk down in my aisle seat trying to remain anonymous and averting my eyes during subsequent meal and beverage services.

                I must admit that I do miss Delta sometimes.  After a recent US Airways flight, I seriously considered writing a glowing thank you letter to the CEO of Delta.  The US Airways flight attendants (Let’s call them the Peanut NAZI’s) were a good bit less than jovial.  The aircraft was an older 737, and the boarding procedure was a little like Walmart at 5 a.m. on the Friday after Thanksgiving.   Lufthansa, with all its pretty planes and comfortable thin-profile seats, at times suffers from the same employee malaise.  They once nailed me for 300 Euro for checking a second bag (apparently, a crime akin to peeing on the Kaiser’s grave), and once they even flew me to Stavanger, Norway for no apparent reason.

      

                Here’s where I should probably admit that I am a Delta Medallion member, so I do receive some decent benefits from flying a crap-load of miles during the year; most all of that in overseas travel.  The access to the Sky Club is nice for international flights, especially the free wireless, but that is tempered by the fact that there is very little to eat and last time I was scolded for bringing in food from the outside.  I don’t get that.  Many times, I’ll just skip the club and hang out in the TGI Friday’s on the E Concourse in Atlanta where I can eat a hamburger and watch Sportscenter.  The people are more fun and the beer selection good, although it’s not cheap.

                It must be noted that not all airport sky lounges are created equal.  The Air France lounges are nice and have decent munchies… too bad some are in the Paris Airport.  Finding the Delta lounge in Munich is like the search for total consciousness.  I found both once, and both times had to leave to use the restroom.  The Korean Air lounge in Seoul?  One word: Awesome.  The Delta lounge in Terminal 3 at JFK? One word: Don’t.  The Turkish Airlines lounge in Istanbul?  I wouldn’t know… They wouldn’t let me in.

By far the biggest benefit to being a Medallion member is being able to board in Zone 1.  Nowadays, the most precious of all space in the aircraft is not the leg room, but the overhead bin space.  Load in Zone 1, and you might actually have room to store your carry-on near to where you sit.  Board in Zone 5 and your carry-on will arrive three days after you do. Unfortunately, now when the gate agent calls for Zone 1, half the passengers dart for the gate like ants to a dropped ice cream cone.

                I realize that this all sounds like whining and it probably is.  I’m just emotionally preparing myself for an upcoming trip to Munich in a couple weeks.  Delta, non-stop, piece of cake.   I’ll be traveling with two other guys who are good, savvy travelers.  That helps.  I’ll load up my carry-on with Cheez-its and Little Debbie Nutty Bars, stash a few free drink coupons in my passport, and charge up the Kindle. Upon boarding I’ll smile happily at the flight crew as I scan the overhead bins for space.  Inside I’ll just keep telling myself: Red wine is red wine, and Stavanger really wasn’t that bad.

  
Lancico's Note: The title was adapted from the Bible verse (Oh death, where is thy sting?) in 1^st Corinthians as an exclamation over the conquering of death.  Oh Delta, where is thy sting? is an exclamation of victory over the countless hassles in traveling… TSA checks, baggage fees, crowded planes, rude employees and fellow passengers, and all that makes air travel less than fun.  Nothing personal against Delta… simply insert the name of any airline/airport/hotel, etc.  Victory lives on in the heart of the traveler… Enjoy the journey!