Late Like a 40-Year Old Virgin

Rant and Rave ahead - skip this post if uninterested.

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I have never waited so long in my life for an airplane to take off.

It was a simple domestic flight from Sydney to Melbourne for the purposes of work, meeting relatives, and a more pleasant environment to spend the weekend.

Instead, it turned into the interminable wait.

In hindsight, it wasn't entirely the fault of Virgin Blue (the domestic carrier I directed all my invisible rage at). But I can't help but blame them for what ensued.

First off, I checked in at those ubiquitous self-service kiosks that were meant to reduce the need for front counter check-in staff. But because I also have a Samsonite to lug onboard, I still have to drop my bag in the bag drop-off counter.

What I didn't get was why there was a queue for the bag drop-offs - don't you just 'drop' your bag and then go? So why the need for a whole slew of counter staff to check and tag bags? OK, I guess it is necessary, but somehow, it kinds of defeats the whole purpose of self check-in entirely.

Additionally, checking in was also confusing because there were 2 long queues formed: one for the self check-inners who are queueing to bag drop; another for the stupids who are queueing to check in. Of course general confusion ensued and additional staff have to be hired to manage the lemminged passengers into joining the right queue.

And to make things worse, there are guys who will join the wrong queues, and hold up counter staff in meaningless arguments over mindless stuff like: "Yes I know I didn't check in at the kiosk, but can I still drop my bag? No? WHY THE HELL NOT? WHAT RULES?"

Ok, so all in, about 30 minutes to self check-in (5 mins for the computer illiterate to figure it out and move on from their frustration at the kiosk, 1 min to check myself in, 24 minutes shuffling in the queue and nudging my bag to the drop-off counters).

Next up: Krispy Kreme doughnuts for brekkies and off to Gate 32 we go!

At Gate 32, I whiled the time away reading a little book about finding your strengths, which Virgin Blue isn't very good at showing me at this present moment. Its one claim to fame is perhaps that it keeps you in transit for a SHORTER period than its archrival JetStar.

So while at Gate 32, there were ominous signs looming: the first one was the airport announcement over the public address system that there were "Strong Westerly Winds" blowing in and one of two of Sydney's runways will have to be closed. It meant delays and Sydney airport decides that the best thing passengers can do is to "check with your respective airlines' staff". Like they aren't hassled enough already huh?

And to make things even worse, Virgin Blue flight DJ 818 was 'DELAYED' getting out of the Gold Coast. Which meant that it was going to be 'DELAYED' getting out of Sydney as well. Alright, fine. Virgin Blue's ground staff immediately announce in a cheerily happy voice that the 8.15am flight would most likely leave at 9.30am or so, after the Gold Coasters disembark and the plane refuels.

How optimistic of them.

So next up, DJ 818 finally got into Sydney airport and the harried Gold Coasters shuffled off the airplane. Hurray! Gate 32 should start getting busy soon.

Except for one problem: DJ 818 has an engineering fault and "our engineers are working on fixing the problem" and the ground crew announces that "as soon as we know how long it will take, we will let you know."

At this point, I am starting to seeth... I'm already late getting out of Sydney, and I am going to be very late showing up at my client's office.

To make things worse, ground crew eventually pronounces (in the same cheerily happy voice) that "unfortunately, our engineers cannot tell us how long it will take, and we apologise for being unable to tell you when our aircraft can take off". They also say that "if you would like to leave the gate area, please listen to the public announcements for updates".

Tell that to the iPodders who probably didn't understand any of the ruckus going on. More on iPodders later.

Eventually, the engineering problems proved insurmountable. Ground crew at Gate 32 finally made the executive decision that was to create the 'Mr Bean' situation of domestic airport hell: they decided we should switch to... another Virgin Blue plane! Yatta!

Ground crew promptly decides that the plane at Gate 31 will become DJ 818 and thus announces that "all passengers of DJ 818, please move to Gate 31 for immediate boarding". Happily, the passengers all shuffle across the passageway to the gate opposite and promptly forms a queue in front of the counter. There were few seats available because some passengers of another flight are plonked on them.

Ground crew happily skips from Gate 32 to Gate 31 and picks up the microphone. DJ 818 passengers look on in mild anticipation that they will finally board the plane. Ground crew cheerily announces that "all passengers of DJ XXX (I forgot the number) waiting at Gate 31 will now board at Gate 32 instead. Please kindly move to the gate opposite to await your flight".

Ahhhh... now I get it. We did a plane swap! Collective groans from the passengers of DJ XXX were greeted by indifference from several iPodders - some sleeping to the sounds of Handel, others pumping their heads to techno. It did take a while for the iPodders to register these domestic terminal comedies and, of course, they did eventually move. (Some of the thick ones did eventually try to board the 'wrong' aircraft and were shooed away with much irritation and confusion).

Okay, so the plane swap has happened and Gate 32ers are now Gate 31ers, and vice versa. So DJ 818ers finally look at our skippy cheery ground crew gal and she finally announces that "we are now removing your bags from the previous plane and transferring them onto this plane, and there will be another delay".

Wow... 8.15am has turned into 10.15am, and none of us are on the plane yet.

And finally, the plane swap has been done and the bags were moved across, ground crew gal finally starts checking boarding passes and letting people onto the new DJ 818. Collective sighs of relief and happy customers of Virgin Blue start boarding their flight for Melbourne.

So boarding takes another 20 minutes or so and I chucked myself comfortably into window seat 5F, with a view of the starboard side of the plane. I can see the wing to the right and back, and a mean looking yellow manhole cover nearby.

With everyone safely in the aircraft, and the right bags onboard, the pilot proceeded to welcome all passengers and greeted us with this news: "the plane needs to be refueled and we have already called Shell to come refuel the plane, but they seem to be taking their time coming."

Ok, sanity check: Plane swap - checked. Passengers boarded - checked. Crew moved to new aircraft - checked. bags transferred - checked. Oh wait! I can't take off coz I don't have enough fuel!

Ok. Yet another delay.

Eventually though, out of my little peephole of a window, I saw what look like a bunch of shining alumnium pipes-on-wheels zip over the mean looking manhole cover near to the right wing of the newly christened DJ 818. A bored looking man wearing a lime green jacket and big lime green headphones (NOT an iPodder this one) got out of pipes-on-wheels and started fiddling with his mean looking hose.

In fact, he had TWO of them! On the truck anyhow.

The small one led to the plane, and he slowly and laboriously lugged this one to a little hole at the side of the aircraft, plugged it in, and shuffled back to the truck.

Next, he brought out this rod and prodded it into the manhole cover. He removed the cover and attached another hose (thicker but shorter this time) into the recess that was exposed. (If that didn't sound like a dirty romantic novel, then I guess I will never carve a career in writing books with Fabio on the cover; side note: where's my career counselor when I need one?).

So anyhow, the fuel truck guy from Shell FINALLY filled the plane with fuel and drives off. Meanwhile, cabin crew were busy telling passengers to stay in their seats. They were also busy showing their disapproval whenever someone whipped out his / her mobile. Much clucking of tongues and shaking of heads and wagging of index fingers are meant to indicate that it was a bad idea to call the darling while fuel was injected into the aircraft.

With the plane fueled up, it was time for all passengers to hear what the next hold up (you think its over???) was.

Oh yeah, the "Strong Westerly Winds" theory of plane delaying tactics. The pilot promptly announces to us that "due to Strong Westerly Winds" one of the runways had to be closed. Which meant that all planes are taking off and landing on one runway, which meant that "we are now negotiating with air traffic control to let us take off as soon as possible".

At this point, despite my reservations about the delays; despite my seething rage at waiting for 3 hours already; despite my resignation at the inevitability of it all; I have to say that Virgin Blue staff are perhaps the most informative of all airline staff ever. Kudos for the information age!

Not that its a bad thing: it just doesn't help if you have people like stupids, thicks, and iPodders, all of whom generally don't care in their own special ways what you tell them about delays. A delay just meant that: a delay. And no amount of information regarding what you're doing or when things are happening are changing the perception that Virgin Blue is one big cock-up in the eyes of these people.

Finally, and this is the last time I use that word 'Finally', the plane gets permission to take off, and we taxi onto the runway, slowly, but surely, and DJ 818 is off the ground - almost 4 hours behind schedule, and with all passengers intact.

It was with fanfare - and a huge dose of relief - that all DJ 818ers started to clap and cheer when the plane landed in Melbourne airport. I don't think I'll ever look at another 'DELAYED' sign in the same way ever again.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles; A new Period

A combination of a few things put me out of blogging action for a while:

1. I've gotten lazy.

2. I was catching up on anime I haven't seen. Anime freaks out there should go catch Kanon and Death Note (the anime, not the movie, though I've heard good things about the movie too).

3. I started re-playing this very long-winded turn-based time-consuming ego-feeding empire-building game which took too much time (because I had too much of it currently). It distracted me from one true purpose of having this laptop (which is to blog with)

4. I was on holiday... with my ex... it was really fun hanging out with someone you know well, but you may never know people well enough (I've come to realise that people can change - someone you think you know now won't be the same person you know later). That makes life interesting, but I'm not looking for interesting experiences nowadays. I just want a life. Period. (punctuation notwithstanding)

5. I was suffering from a writer's block of sorts - there were things I wanted to blog about, but I couldn't put them into words.

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There was an idea to talk about one oft-cited topic: Love. Or rather the reasons for love. I think that love is based on a primal urge to procreate, and as human beings, we are driven to find love because we want to have sex and to reproduce (from a biological point of view, of course). It just gets complicated that we develop feelings along the way: stupid things going by names such as jealousy, hatred, ecstasy - you know them well.

But then, I thought about the fact that too many people have expounded on this topic already, and what can I add to the people who actually read my blog? (I think my regular readers have reached a number that I can count with both my hands!).

So I shan't discuss love - I don't have it now, and I certainly am hungry for it, though I'm beginning to think it is a function of a biological urge.

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There is this post that I wanted to do regarding Singapore Airlines though - I even took notes while the incident was playing out. I was flying out of Changi Airport (Singapore) to Bangkok on an SQ flight (my first in years) and a situation occurred which prevented me from boarding the plane for a long while.

It started with me queueing to check in at Terminal 2's Row 7 check in counter. The first irritating thing is that there is actually a very long queue: it was a rope-lashed snake with 4 bends, which meant one having to navigate an airport push trolley onto people's ankles at least 4 times. One snaky queue feeding something like 12 counters (or positions depending on whose choice of words you chose), of which some were available and some were intermittently closed. I soon found out why there were positions that had to be 'intermittently' closed.

There was actually a lady, not in the usual SIA counter staff garb (the one counter staff wear with the distinctive SQ kebaya pattern for a top and a schoolgirl skirt), standing at the head of the queue directing people to the various counters. She looked authoritative, and she even 'selected' people to skip ahead to the front of the queue, depending on how late they are for their flights. There seemed to be a bias - she seems to move Caucasians ahead of the pack more often than not, but I was probably just being too sensitive. Maybe these ang-mohs just have a thing for checking in late.

Anyhow, this was the situation 2 hours prior to my flight. And I finally got to the counter to check in. I presented my passport, the girl tapped away on the keyboard. I was kept there for something like 5 minutes before being told that a situation had arisen where I might not get a seat on the flight.

Time-out... Now, typically, I think the usual SIA customer will be outraged and suitably angry at this point. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CANNOT PUT ME ON THAT FLIGHT?" might be something I have uttered in utter desperation. With my Outraged Customer Hat on, I might have made a scene or a huge fuss out of the fact that I come 2 hours early to find myself not checked onto the flight. Not impossible yah?

But I am not a usual SIA customer: this is my first SIA flight since I was 10. So I put my
Operations Consultant Hat on instead and decided to find out why she said that.

The reason, oddly enough, actually made sense operationally. SIA is an airline that connects people via Changi airport between people flying out of Europe and Australia going to destinations in Asia (and vice versa, though it was the former case for this situation). A flight out of Sydney coming into Singapore was delayed, and a bunch of the passengers on this particular flight missed their connection in Singapore to other destinations in South-East Asia like Bangkok, Manila and Hanoi.

Knowing that these people are going to miss their scheduled connections, the system did the next best thing it could for them: it put them on the next available SQ flight out to these destinations. One of these next best flight happened to be SQ62 to Bangkok: my flight. All this probably happened even before I showed up at the airport. It made sense then and there to secure the next flight out for these folks, but obviously some things have not been well thought through.

For one thing, the flight was already overbooked - this is a typical airline practice: there is some complicated system to actually calculate yield rates and airlines know that they can overbook an aircraft because there will be cancellations. However, I was flying out on a Hari Raya-Deepavali holiday weekend, which probably screw things up a bit because complex booking algorithms can seldom account for irratic holiday weekend travel patterns.

So while pushing delayed passengers on subseqeunt connecting flights made sound business sense, the fact that the flight was OVERBOOKED, and that it was a HOLIDAY WEEKEND meant that there WILL be people actually boarding that flight in Singapore and one cannot discount that they WILL want to get on the flight.

But... Singapore Airlines, well-known for providing the BEST service to customers put their delayed customers on the next flight out nonetheless. So what was the effect of this happening?

You should have seen the scene at Changi Airport Terminal 2 Check in counter Row 7. Customers were told they needed to wait while the front counter staff scramble to get them seats. My bag was checked in: my bag could actually get on the flight while I had to wait for my turn. I sat on the seats next to the check in row, observing other passengers suffering the same fate. Irate ang-mohs are a sight to behold: this lady was frustrated, furious and screaming at one of the supervisors. Quite understandable: this is Singapore Airlines you're talking about, and what level of service is it that you cannot check in someone who's arrived two hours early?

In providing the best possible service for the folks boarding a delayed flight in Sydney, it has made it impossible for the folks boarding a confirmed flight in Singapore. Pretty well thought out for a world class airline, I must say.

Now, let me assume the Front Counter Staff Hat and see the real victim in all of this. I make no bones about the fact that the real victim isn't myself, the customer. The real victim is the Front Counter girl and mine is named Elline (I never found out her last name). It's a good thing I have had an opportunity to work behind a counter myself (A&E, NUH, something from my previous life as an IT consultant) and I understood what she was going through - I think I was the most reasonable customer for her all of that busy morning.

Often, the Front Counter Staff (FCS) have to handle things on two fronts, both of which are beyond her control in the first place. There is the irate customer on the one hand: the FCS has to deal with frustration, irritation and emotions which are generally beyond their level of comprehension. People hate to wait, and having reached the front of a queue, people hate to be told that they have waited for nothing. The FCS needs to be gentle, reassuring and understanding all at a time when they might be screamed at, shouted at and verbally abused. A crying FCS is a typical sight when things in the backroom get out of hand.

And this is where the FCS faces the biggest ordeal: things happen in the backroom which are beyond her control, and which she might have an inkling of an idea about. The FCS is tasked to provide the best possible service and her KPI is measured based on that - customer waiting time, turnaround time, service etc. But her KPI is affected by backroom events such as the one I have mentioned above.

So, the FCS can try to explain the situation to the irate customer, and at best hope that the customer will understand. It is a tough job with a frequently high turnover, but you do develop a thick hide after facing the worst of them. Elline, my SIA FCS of Row 7, was kind enough to explain the situation, checked in my bag, got me to wait patiently while she put up the sign that said 'Position Closed'. She then ran back and forth between some unknown backroom location and the front counter, all in the name of getting me on that flight.

Me? I was thinking a few things while making notes about the ordeal (I was too free, no book to read, no laptop to punch away on). Firstly, I should have just used SIA's Internet Check-in: much easier, no hassle, and my bag can be carried on. Alternatively, I should have gone in as baggage: bags can get on the flight, passengers cannot. It is SIA, I kept repeating to myself, and it has the best service. Yup, to the irate ang mohs it sure does, since their tempers are well on display. I can still picture this supervisor saying "Sorry... sorry" over and over again to customers who complained.

But I guess there are miracles. Half an hour before the plane was to fly, Elline got me onto the flight. But well, it was the last available seat on the plane - all the way at the back, no choice of aisle or window (I got aisle), near the area where the stewardesses prepare the food. I thanked her, asked her for her name - this is so that I can write this post with a name in mind. The FCS are not nameless assistants to your customer experience: they are also human beings.

I ran, boarded and enjoyed the rest of my trip to Bangkok. But I don't think SIA is that good anymore: Does it make sense that providing good service meant bumping up delayed passengers onto a connecting flight, at the expense of kicking off full-paying passengers who are booked on that flight? I'm tempted to assume my CEO of SIA Hat but I think not: its enough that I blogged about it - if they offer me a job, I think I might even try to help think through strategic imperatives to DEAL with it.

They need some serious re-thinking there... Singapore Airlines.

R&R

Short one. I resolved not to rant and rave in the new year. Ranting and Raving is the easier way to blog stuff, but with so many bloggers doing that on a daily basis, the verbal diarrhoea has to end sometime.

Of course, that is for the new year. Until then, I shall R&R until I can clear my system of the frustration within.

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Just had a chat with the landlady, and like always, there's her screaming at me, and me screaming at her, and then us having a decent conversation about the state of the house, and her worries, and her latin blood, and her bloody problems with tenants like me, and the bank. Endless woes being a landlady: and I thought it was all about collecting the money and sitting in the sun with a pina colada (not much sun in Fall, so I guess that explains the gloomy mood).

Landladies are a breed all of their own. But I still maintain this: don't do business with her!

Out in Left Field: Jealousy and Envy

I figured that a sufficiently oblique post title will wing it, but on re-reading the above, I don't think it'll make any sense to anyone at all besides myself.

Yes, I'm beside myself with envy and jealousy. These are feelings I hate to have, especially when they're also tinged with a little wrath and lust. The potent combination of all of the above leaves me feeling like shit, which, in some sense of the word, is what I am like right now: feeling a little too shitty.

I guess it started with the McDing (borrowed the phrase from a housemate). Kick ass consulting firm McKinsey has decided that its venerated institution cannot house a degenerate like me. Unfortunately, they also couldn't muster the proper interviewers either: my first interviewer looked more like he came from the set of Lord of the Rings where he played one of the orcs. The questions were fast and furious, and I kept getting interrupted. I suppose that's part of the stress interview bit about it, but I don't appreciate being treated like an idiot (two beady little eyes staring out at me isn't making me like him... and how is he expected to like me when I don't like him? Wrong vibes sent bothways kill any rapport that I was trying to build). The result: dinged.

So began my descent into shithood. It got worse when my landlady decided that she is an amnesiac, and now thinks that a conversation that we have had did not happen, and thereby thinks she is entitled to return my deposit to me when I leave. I explicitly stated to our dear Mrs G.U. that we had an agreement (she even sent me an email as confirmation) that she will pay me, in cash, on certain stated dates way before I leave, the full deposit amount. Mrs G.U. has conveniently decided that my email never happened, and her mode of dealing with problems is to pretend that emails I sent her were never received (especially if they were complaints or demands for deposits to be returned).

So... and here I do something that I shall look back as my one big vengeful act even if it probably wouldn't have much of an impact...

Future students of INSEAD coming to Fontainebleau: Avoid any dealings with the likes of ACM Meuble, the so-called company of our very dear Mrs G.U. (who I shan't name because I don't like to be sued, in France or anywhere else). She is inconsistent in her rent demands. She likes to create artificial charges for certain things and do not show you the bills for them. She thinks that rent can be raised and lowered as and when she feels like it. She maintains horrible accounts. She will bug you to pay for broken utensils or crockery that isn't your fault. She is the bitchy empress of the sleepy little village of VLS.

Oooh. I feel better already.

And as if the shitty times aren't over, I suddenly feel left out from parties and dinners. I think it is a function of a few factors: one, I'm not popular enough; two, I'm not social enough (well, can't help it, my nature); three, I'm not a girl (average looking girls also get invited to dinners, shucks). Getting left out isn't so bad, but when getting left out meant being driven home to sulk while your housemate heads out afterwards to all the cool social gigs make it suck. Yes, getting left out = jealousy + envy and the somewhat sick feeling that getting invited meant everything (socially).

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Haha... a case of sour grapes, of course. I'm a sucker for feeling bad about myself, and given the right conditions (3 in fact), I just can't help but start feeling sorry about myself.

Eventually, these things don't matter, but it kind of rankles whenever feelings of this sort bubbles to the surface. It's not possible to prevent oneself from feeling it. Hopefully, other things and events in the long run will smooth out the short term ill feelings that nestle within oneself.

After all, I am myself: my definition of my self-worth isn't in the number of invitations I got.