Delta

Let's forget the "Dear" this time. And the fact that because I've spent so much time flying your friendly skies I have nothing else to talk about but your shortcomings. I'm like the sorry ex-girlfriend that won't shut up about the love she lost.

And love I have lost for you, my friend.

I forgave and I forgot when you left me stranded in Bentonville, Arkansas during skunk mating season, complete with lots 'o chicken dander, thanks to your broken door. And I assure you, it was extremely painful staring at that plane kissing the jetway knowing it wouldn't fly. But I gave you the benefit of the doubt. Shit happens.

Yes, it sure does. You took advantage of my loyalty and held me up in San Antonio. I know, weather. Atlanta in the spring time is a bitch. It's not the weather I blame you for. It's telling me I'm on the earlier flight which was also delayed, and then ripping it from my bosom as if we never loved. Have you no decency?

I do appreciate you getting me safely from point A to B, but lets try and do it when you say you will - expectations, my friend, expectations.

I know, you're testing my boundaries, establishing pecking order. But let's not forget. I pay YOU. And I have a choice. We have three more weeks together, let's make the best of it.

In good faith,

The REALLY Reluctant Business Traveler

P.S? You better read my freaking' letter this time.

Comments

  1. First of all, you live in Atlanta. Don't kid yourself into thinking you really have a choice. Secondly, the sooner you start thinking about airplanes as buses with wings, the sooner you will be at peace with their lack of service.

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