How I almost didn't get home for Christmas: A comedy of errors brought to you by Jetsgo - Part II

The situation was getting worse and worse. It was getting out of control. People were starting to curse, fret and carrying on and I can't say I blamed them. It definitely wasn't the fault of the frontline Jetsgo workers, but people's nerves were frayed. Jetsgo wasn't doing us a favour, we paid good money for a seat on a plane to Ottawa or Montreal or St. John's. If that's the case I EXPECT to be on a plane, not in an airport on Christmas Eve 'cause the airline has no darned planes.

Foolishness.

One lady lost it and began to lambaste two Jetsgo reps: "You have destroyed *BLEEP*ing Christmas for all of us, you *BLEEP*er!" she screamed, causing the terminal to go silent. The police arrived promptly.

Wow.

I may have thought differently after 24 hours of being at the airport, but Christmas, for me anyway, wasn't ruined. We were stuck somewhere we didn't want to be and we weren't with our friends and family and we were frustrated as all heck, but we were alive. I'm saying, two days later a tsunami devastated Southeast Asia and kills hundreds of thousands of people. We were unhappy, but there were still options.

Of course, everyone likes to commiserate, so we asked the very angry people what the story was. Two ladies explained to us that they had been scheduled on a flight the night before. They were at the correct gate, their luggage was on board and suddenly the flight was cancelled. Why, you ask? Jetsgo decided to send the plane (and you know they were in short supply) to Cancun (remember the Cancun people in Part I? The ones who got the riot police?) because Jetsgo makes more money on packaged vacations. So they cancelled the St. John's, Nfld. trip and got the plane ready for Cancun.

That's just disgusting. The airline had a plane for these people to go to Newfoundland and they removed the people's luggage. That's pure wickedness. Some people were in transit from other provinces -- if my flight was cancelled, I could take a taxi or call my boyfriend to take me home. If I'm coming into Toronto from Edmonton and have a connecting flight, I'm screwed.

After the Jetsgo people gave us some funky excuses, my sister and I tried to cut our losses. I called Westjet and, praise God!, they had flights available to Montreal. Our friend Susan and us booked seats on a 7:30 pm Westjet flight. The next issue was getting out luggage. They Jetsgo rep told us: "That's no problem. Just go downstairs -- I've radioed the baggage handlers and your bags will be ready in a few minutes."

Susan hustled over to Terminal 2 and told us she'd tell the Westjet folks that we'd be over there in a minute. My sister and I hustled downstairs to baggage claim, but security wouldn't let us in the back. Supposedly, a Jetsgo rep had to come downstairs with us -- we were told that after about 20 minutes of running around.

That's when Urban Sista lost it. Tears welled up in my eyes because I was convinced that this was a conspiracy to make this the worst Christmas Eve EVER. If a rep is supposed to escort us to the luggage claim area, how am I, as a traveller and not an employee of Jetsgo or Lester B. Pearson airport know that? Someone had to tell me this before I rushed my backside downstairs, stressing and fretting, to get my luggage.

Someone was gonna get it. I was tired. It was quarter to seven -- I should have been at home... no, actually, I should have been at church singing Silent Night or Joy to the World. But no, I was stranded at the airport with a bunch of angry strangers who wanted the same thing I did: an airplane that would take me to my destination. I went upstairs to cuss the Jetsgo representative. I finally understood the frustration that people were feeling. No one was communicating with us and when they did talk, we were given wrong information. My sister was chasing behind me, but my temper had the best of me. Angrily, seething with venom, I waited. I was going to drop some hot lashes in him. Believe me.

I guess seeing the fire coming out of my ears, airport security approached my sister, who was trying to catch up to me, to ask what was wrong.

"How can I help you?" he asked. He had been dealing with angry passengers all day. He had to handle us with kid gloves -- a wrong word could turn the mob on you.

"Maybe you can help," my sister said. "I just booked a Westjet flight and I need my luggage right now so I can check in. I was sent downstairs, but I can't get to the back to get my stuff..."

"Yep, you need a Jetsgo rep."

"No one told us that. If we don't get our luggage, we're going to miss our flight." And at that moment, I began to cry. I cried like a six-year-old who just wanted her mommy and daddy, some juice and a blankie. I didn't want to spend Christmas Eve at the airport. Lord, it was like Die Hard 2 -- without the terrorists. Actually, if things didn't get better soon, someone was going to bust a cap in a Jetsgo person's tail. We heard that the day before two reps had gotten pushed around by disgruntled passengers.

A Black woman put her arm around me, "don't cry, honey, we'll get home." Aww heck, they think I'm 16 or something.

As I'm having a nervous breakdown, a spare Jetsgo rep (really, there were only six of them at best, so, I don't think she was really a spare) came out of the back room.

"Excuse me, miss?" said the security officer. "Could you escort these young ladies downstairs to get their luggage?"

"Sure. Follow me." Wiping the tears off my cheeks and trying to regain the semblance of being a 29-year-old woman, we followed her downstairs and through a back door. Some luggage was sitting off to the side. I looked through it, but none of it belonged to us.

This is just ridiculous now. It's been at least 40 minutes. For luggage that was supposed to take 15 to arrive, I don't know why it was taking so long. The luggage was somewhere in the airport -- obviously it wasn't on a plane, seeing they didn't have one. So, what's the hold up?

Fast-forward, we were down in the luggage pick up area for a good hour and not piece of luggage was found. It's about 7:30 -- I called Westjet and they told me that the flight had been delayed to 8:30, so we had more than enough time. But if we realized we couldn't get there in time, to call them back and cancel, so we didn't lose any of our money. I was seething again. If you have no plane, where the heck is my luggage and why should it take over an hour to find it?

My sister made friends with the rep who had brought us downstairs and she got the real deal information from her. Jetsgo has planes scheduled to leave every hour, but supposedly, not one plane had left going to Montreal Christmas Eve. Two planes weren't able to get to Toronto for whatever reasons and had to go back to Vancouver and that screwed up the entire schedule.

"They don't tell frontline staff anything -- and we're not allowed to update the board to inform the passengers of what's going on," she said. "I've only worked here two weeks, but I don't think I can take it anymore." The airline has 20 planes and had scheduled 50 flights that day.

Jetsgo, from what she told us, isn't affiliated with any other airline. So, when something happens -- like a plane is grounded in another city, they don't have any agreements with any other airline to get passengers to their destinations. Things are cool when they're on schedule, but Lord help them when they aren't. Unlike Air Canada, they don't have any extra planes at hangers at the airport. All their vehicles are in service, so if something happens to a plane, there isn't one to replace it.

I'm a writer, do you think I only have one pen? So, if that pen runs out of ink, I can write anymore? Common sense, folks. Wouldn't it make sense, if you have 20 planes, to have 18 flights leaving two planes available? While you won't make as much money because you don't have as many flights, you will build customer loyalty 'cause passengers would ACTUALLY GET where they wanted to go ON TIME. Not eight, 12 or 36 hours late -- if at all. The VP of Operations for Jetsgo needs a good hard slap and to be fired because obviously he/she has NO idea how to run a business properly.

As sis was investigating, I was trying to get my luggage and time was running out, 'cause Westjet wasn't waiting on my backside.

"Excuse me?" I corner a Jetsgo rep. "I've been down here waiting for my luggage for more than an hour and it's no where to be found. I have another flight leaving in less than an hour -- I need my luggage now."

"Oh, I'll radio them and get it to you as soon as possible."

Hmmph. At ten to eight, there was still no luggage, just an angry Urban Sista with a sore back. I sat on the luggage carousel and just felt annoyed, irritated, sore and disgusted. By ten after eight, I still hadn't received my luggage, so I called Westjet and cancelled my flight -- I wasn't going to be able to get to Terminal 2 in time to check in, clear security and find my gate.

At 8:15 pm, two baggage handlers came with my sister and my luggage. Sigh. Because it was so late, we wouldn't have enough time to catch the Westjet flight. So, I called and cancelled and slunk out of the baggage claim.

"Don't stress," said my sister, who was the unusual voice of reason. Usually she'd be the angry one ready to tell someone exactly what she thought. "There may be a reason why we didn't get on that Westjet flight. God doesn't make mistakes."

True. But I wanted to get home. We went back upstairs to the Jetsgo counter to recheck our luggage. Ain't that some foolishness?

Of course, there was a line. There were only about six people in line -- all of them looking for a refund. I thought we'd get through and I'd go in the back and try to figure out what to do next. Well, that didn't happen. After twenty minutes of waiting in line, we finally got the luggage rechecked and we cleared security. Went back to Gate B19 and waited.

The Jetsgo rep had told us a plane had left Winnipeg, flying to Toronto and that plane would take us to Montreal.

Right.

Until the plane gets to Toronto, then instead of having a lack of planes, they'd have a lack of personnel.

"We'll just get up early tomorrow morning and drive to Montreal," said my sister. She had given the Jetsgo folks until 10 pm to figure out what they were doing. I sat down and pulled out my copy of The Da Vinci Code and started reading. As I started getting into it, my cell phone rang.

"Hello?" It was the boyfriend.

"Hey. Is everything ok? Why didn't you call me?"

"I'm still in Toronto."

"What do you mean that you're still in Toronto?"

"Sniff. The plane's been delayed. We're scheduled to leave at 9:15, but I don't think that's going to happen."

"Urban Sista, why didn't you call me? I'll come get you."

"No, don't worry about it. We're going to hang around here and see what happens."

"Well, let me know. If the plane doesn't leave, I'll come back for you."

"You're such a sweet boyfriend. I'll call you back when I hear something."

"Ok. Bye."

"Bye."

My sister had updated our parents, who were on they're way to church. They felt better just knowing that we were ok. The area was quiet -- the irate Cancun passenger weren't gone, but they were out of the terminal, sitting on the plane, waiting. From the time we left Gate B19 at after 5 or 6 o'clock to minutes to 9 pm, those people were sitting on the plane. Just waiting. The hot Mexican sun beckoning them, but it was not to be so -- at least not until the early morning hours of Christmas Day. They had been announcing the final boarding call for the past two hours.

So, my sister and I sat and cussed.

And the nice Black lady who had helped me through my teenaged moment, came with her young daughter and niece and sat with us.

And we all cussed Jetsgo and their lack of organization together.

I think I lost track of time then. It was late and the more I looked at my watch the angrier I became.

About an hour later, we were informed that the flight from Winnipeg had landed at Gate B17 and to make our way over there. The crew was going to clean and refresh the plane and we should be on our way by 10 pm. Eight hours. I had been at the airport for eight hours -- thankfully, it didn't stretch into 36. So, we all moved over to the correct gate and waited.

After another hour -- probably around 10 pm -- the French Canadians started to get riotous. We were all on edge and tired. The airport restaurants had long since closed down 'cause it was Christmas Eve and everyone just wanted to go home and spend time with their loved one or just take it easy. Guy, I couldn't even get a mouthful of water to soothe my dry palate. I was thirsty and get hungrier by the moment.

The Jetsgo rep who was manning the counter said that the plane just had to be cleaned and refuelled... but why is this taking so long? The flight crew wasn't even on the plane yet, they were standing around with us.

"Good grief," I mumbled. "Mark my words, by this time next year, Jetsgo will be out of business."

I called my parents to let them know that the flight had been, obviously, delayed again. We were supposed to leave at 9:15, then 10 pm. It was now probably 10:30 or later and we were all still sitting at Gate B17. (Me sitting at gate is a running theme in this saga, huh?)

The boyfriend's sister called to see if we were ok and if we had managed to get a glass of water. No, unfortunately, we hadn't. My mouth was dry as if I had crawled through the Sahara Desert and there was nothing wet to quench my thirst. Darn it. Darn it all.

"Excuse me! Excuse me!" said the Jetsgo rep through the PA system. "There has been a slight problem."

Grumbling and cursing was heard. The French Canadians cussed in loud Quebecois French.

"We accidently refuelled the wrong plane. Please be patient with us while we rectify the situation."

Good Lord. Lord give me strength. How, in the name of all that makes sense, do you refuel the wrong plane? It's not like there were a bunch of Jetsgo planes just knocking about. Why is this so difficult? You would think that Elmo and company from Sesame Street were running this operation. Every other airline had their mess in order and passengers were leaving and arriving at proper times. Only Jetsgo was embroiled in this abject confusion and foolery.

So I had to ask myself a question: was the cheap $1 or $20 fare worth all the misery and confusion of spending Christmas Eve at the airport without the certainty of knowing I would be flying out. Because, when we went back to the Jetsgo counter, the rep there couldn't tell us for sure if a plane would be able to take us out of Toronto that night. What's the point of planning if an airline can decided to give away your plane or cancel your flight. You're better off seeing what you can do the day you want to leave -- go by plane, maybe train or possibly drive.

The crew was throwing us nasty looks and saying, "don't ask us anything, we don't know." I learned afterward, those flight attendants had been called in off their vacations to shuttle us to Montreal. While I felt bad that they had to come to work on their own time, I know I've spent many times working when I should have been at home to get the job done. It sucks, yes, but that's what you signed up for.

At around 11:30 pm, we were told the plane had been refuelled and we would be boarding in a few moments. A cheer went up -- about 65 people were still at the gate.

Check this, if this is the only plane leaving Toronto for Montreal on Christmas Eve and a plane leaves every hour, how does that equal a mere 65 people? If one plane holds about 120 people and there was supposed to be about 15 flights, that's... ummm... 1800 expecting to fly on Jetsgo. If, on average, everyone paid about $150 for a ticket, that would be approximately, $216,000. Now, if 65 of us actually got on the plane, we represent a mere $7800 dollars. That's a loss of more than two hundred thousand dollars.

That, my friends, is NOT a profitable business model.

At midnight, we were finally on the plane and buckled into our seats. I was exhausted, but finally, I was on my way home. The plane took off, after de-icing, at close to 12:15 am. Once we were in the air, the flight attendants gave us complimentary soda or coffee (thank God, 'cause I was about to dehydrate), but were charging $1 for cookies and chips.

What de ass? Keep wunna dry up food goods. I should have been at home eating a proper West Indian Christmas Eve meal.

We touched down at Trudeau International Airport at 12:45 am. I had my bags and a conversation with lawyer who had gone through, pretty much, the same heartache as my sister and I. She was contemplating a class action suit against Jetsgo. I haven't heard anything yet.

By minutes after one o'clock in the morning, I was smelling the rich Christmas smells in my parents' kitchen. Hallejuah. I made it home -- missed all the Christmas Eve festivities, but I made it home.

"You know Ann and Lisa drove and they were home by this afternoon," said my mother making stuffing.

"I'm sure they got home a long time ago."

Next year, I will not fly home for Christmas -- well, hopefully, next year, I'll be in Barbados for Christmas. I wouldn't encourage anyone to fly home at holidays. It's too much confusion and tears and sorrow -- weather delays, overbooking, lack of aircraft. Christmastime is supposed to be a time you spend with your friends and family, not at the airport wondering and waiting for something to happen so you can get your tail on a plane.

In the morning, merry Christmas, we heard that Jetsgo had added a new flight to St. John's, Nfld. Great, but not a lot of help for those poor folks who had cancelled their flights and tried to find their way back home to salvage their holiday.

The way back to Toronto on the 28th was uneventful. The plane was have empty and left on time. They gave us the dratted Jetsgo buttons with the happy face.

The stupid thing is still in my luggage.

I think I'll burn it later today.