Asshole Asshole Asshole! Now That Feels Much Better! | Life Love and Hiccups: Asshole Asshole Asshole! Now That Feels Much Better!
Life Love and HiccupsLife Love and HiccupsLife Love and HiccupsLife Love and Hiccups

Tuesday 7 January 2014

Asshole Asshole Asshole! Now That Feels Much Better!

Pin It ** If you are easily offended by the overuse of the word asshole or the repeated sight of a monkey's bum, perhaps today may not be the best day for you to visit cause I chose the biggest ugliest monkey bum I could find!


I am not in the habit of naming and shaming and normally if I am unhappy with a company, I just quietly go away and never use them again. But this time I am really mad and never before have I ever EVER felt such a need to express my pure disgust at either an individual or an organisation before like I do right now.

I was going to try and show a little restraint and not reveal the full identity of the company I am about to let loose on, but then I got all mad again and thought nah stuff that - no fuzzy wigs and blurred out faces for you asshole company.

I am dangerously premenstrual and I am a mother who today watched as my cub was reduced to tears so let's just call a spade a spade hey JetCrapstar. You stuffed up and you are an asshole!

Remember how I told you my son's best friend moved away to another state last month and how devastated they both were? Yeah / No / Whatever.... Well as a Christmas gift, we had organised with his mate's parents to fly him up there to stay with his friend for a week and even better, his friend had no idea in the world that Kai was coming.

Being the over protective Mum that I am, this has been one of the toughest things I have ever agreed to, but I knew how desperately they have been missing each other and I just wanted this so badly for him.

So I spoke to Crapstars Call centre and confirmed that yes he is 12 and starting high school this year and therefore they will allow him to fly unaccompanied - as long of course as there is someone to meet him at the other end.

Easy.

The flights were booked and the countdown calender drawn up.

Last night I suffered the worst bout of 'I'm just going to lie here awake all night stressing about my boy going away and will not sleep' that I have had in a looooong time. So I ended up reading until 3am, accidentally sending emails to wrong people by mistake and staring at the roof wondering if I packed him enough undies and stuff like that.

We went to the airport well ahead of time today. Kai was a bit nervous about flying on his own for the first time and I wanted everything to be as calm as possible for him before we had to say goodbye.

After waiting forever to check in, they asked for his student ID card to which I was all "Huh?"

I explained again like I did to the call centre when we booked the flight, that yes he is in highschool this year, but since he hasn't actually started back at school yet, he doesn't yet own a Student ID card.

So they asked to see a copy of his school enrollment forms and acceptance letter - Because YEAH I carry them in my handbag everywhere with me!

Without a student ID or a high school acceptance letter he wasn't going anywhere and at that moment I turned to watch the tears well in my poor boys eyes.

Assholes.



So I ask to speak to the supervisor and when he arrives he says he's sorry that the booking people didn't tell us about this but they are based in the Philippines and sometimes they don't understand things properly (WTF?) He offered to bend the rules (the ones that they neglected to tell us about in the first place) if we can get a letter from school confirming that Kai is enrolled to start soon.

The fact that it is school holidays and the school is freaking closed was immaterial but it gave Kai some hope that he may still make his flight after all and the tears momentarily dried up.

So I did what any desperate mother would do for her kid an hour before the flight was due to leave.... I tracked down a year coordinator from the school who was in the middle of doing her shopping, and begged her to write a letter right there and then with the information they were requesting and email it to me.

When that little ding went on my phone to herald the arrival of her email, I fist pumped the air, hugged Kai and made one very loud whoop before handing over my phone with the requested communication.

Bum Ba.

Needs to be on paper, because even though that email is from the school email address, it really could be from anyone. Sorry he still cant fly.

Assholes.



By this stage Kai had broken down and was sobbing as he watched the trip he had been so looking forward to fall apart in front of his eyes.

Shedding more than a few tears myself by now I went into beg mode and pleaded with them to fix their stuff up somehow and let him on the plane.

Finally they offered to sell me a discounted seat on the same flight so I can accompany my son to QLD and then fly back again. And I was all "yeah and do you mind if I just leave these other two children of mine with you for a couple of hours whilst I do that or are you willing to sell them a couple of discounted seats too?"

Assholes.



I had no choice but to face facts, they were not going to accept any responsibility for saying he could fly, taking our booking AND our money and basically he would not be flying with them full stop.

My final resort was to accept their offer of a refund so I could go and try to get him on another airline. Then they tell me the refund will take up to 21 days. 21 DAYS!!! And of course I am so bloody rich that I can just chuck another couple of hundred on a last minute top price alternative flight ....NOT! You morons!

By this stage my younger two boys were mimicking me by shaking their heads and saying to anyone within earshot, "He should have flown with Qantas".

I didn't even bother telling them to stop.

Then get this, no really .... GET THIS. When my tears turned to anger and I expressed my disgust at everything that had just happened and the ridiculousness of having to wait 21 days for a refund, some smarmy customer service woman who had come to process the refund and who would have been at least 10 to 15 years younger than me, said with the most patronising snigger "Maybe you should read the website HONEY, our refund policy is all on there".

Wow, does this airline teach their staff how to hold red flags to bulls in those lunchtime customer service training sessions???

Assholes.



So Kai was still sobbing and saying "I don't want to go anymore Mum, lets just go home" and my younger two are pulling faces at the staff behind the counter and repeatedly saying in stupid voices "honey honey she called Mum honey" and I'm all frothing at the mouth, steam pouring out of every orifice and stabbing my finger at the air hissing " I AM NOT YOUR HONEY, DON'T YOU CALL ME HONEY" much to the entertainment of the hundred odd lucky buggers who were lined up waiting to check in to their flights.

I resisted the urge to turn around and scream at them to "Run RUN while you can".... but why would they, they didn't need any frigging Student ID card to fly!

I was half expecting one of those airline TV shows that film all the crazy customers losing it at the check in desk so we can watch and laugh at how ridiculous they are, to stick a camera in my face and start filming me.... and if that HAD actually happened... well can I tell you that with the frame of mind I was in, that cameraman would be at this very moment getting the camera surgically removed from his ass.

To cut a really long story down a little, Virgin came to the rescue and the most gorgeous and kind customer service rep calmed us both down and reassured Kai that they would get him to meet his mate and he would arrive pretty much right at the original time planned. They also heavily discounted the fare so it was more affordable for us as a last minute resort, priority checked him in and he was on that plane within 30 minutes of walking away from the Crapstar counter.

They were nothing more than brilliant ..... unlike those other assholes.

Of course there were tears all round when Kai boarded his plane, but I am no longer sure if they were tears because we were saying goodbye for a week or we were all just so damn exhausted by the previous 2 hours.

I was crying, Kai was crying, Flynn was crying and Sam was patting my arm saying "He should have flown Qantas".

In the end, Kai safely arrived in QLD, was so well looked after by Virgin staff on the flight there and his best mate was BEYOND blown away and shocked when Kai walked through the arrivals gate at the other end (he thought they were at the airport to pick up his Dad's mate).

As for me, well I am now at home, onto my second G&T, nursing a couple of sore fingers from stabbing at the keyboard and feeling a little less inclined to rip the head off anyone who dares to look at me sideways.

But I am still mad.

I'm also still very premenstrual, but I'm pretty sure some chocolate will take care of that.

I am incredibly grateful to Virgin Australia for looking after my boy and helping us out. But alas, I am notorious for holding grudges and I am totally planning on writing Crapstars name in my little black Irish Curse book.

Very few have ever done anything bad enough to make it into my little black book.... except for the cow who stole my Dad's birdbath (that's a story for another time). The Birdbath Bitch - as I have come to call her - is in the book multiple times, but she may have just lost her King Asshole crown to the almighty Crapstar!

Assholes.



Have you ever had a nightmare experience like this?