Please read Erik’s post about American Airlines to get the whole back story to this posting:
So here are some other factors of the story that make it just a little more outlandish and the situation a lot less tolerable:
1) When I gave the name and address and phone number of the hotel to the technologically inept woman operating the archaic computer at the baggage resolution center I didn’t just tell her. I wrote it down on a piece of paper – “Radisson Huntley Hotel” followed by the address, the phone number, and Erik’s phone number (my phone was dead and the charger? With my luggage).
2) When we called around lunch time the second day, the man on the phone actually told me they’d be there by 7pm that night. I was outraged vocally and he went and double-checked. “Oh wait, my mistake,” he said “that was from last night.” Oh I see, so not only did we not get our bags, but you didn’t bother hammer and chiseling it into the monitor of your 1983 “super computer.” Thanks for keeping things updated.
3) The driver in Erik’s story was actually the OWNER of the delivery company and promised to deliver it HIMSELF within the hour, not just send one of his loser-chronies…guess what? Loser-chronie was the one who showed up with the bags.
4) The owner of the delivery company not knowing it was a hotel we were staying at really didn’t bother me (because I knew that it was probably fairly accurate to conjure that Nails McTypesoslow probably didn’t enter the info in properly). What DID bother me was that THEY STILL HAD THE FREAKIN ADDRESS! They should be able to deliver to a hot dog stand if they’re give the exact street address, no?
Alright, now you can truly be outraged.