Constipational Airlines (Continental Airlines)

Member Name: mike340

Product:	Continental Airlines
Date:	13/04/02 (320 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: Huge network, Reliable, Frequent Upgrades

Disadvantages: Rude staff, Old aircraft, Rotten food

On a flight to Houston, in business class nogal, I asked for a Coke, without ice. As the trolley dolly turned away without acknowledging that she'd heard me, I repeated,'without ice, please'. She turned round, hands on hips, and almost spat at me : 'I am not a dumb goddammed blonde .....', which of course proved that she was, although closer inpsection of the roots of her hair proved that she wasn't!

Working as a contractor based in Houston, most of my travel within the USA had to be on an airline which had its main hub there. (I shouldn't name the airline so I won't, but Constipational Airlines may give a clue.) Their 'meal' never varied. Morning, noon or night, it was a 'turkey' sandwich. Not real turkey, but a slimy and almost transparently thin processed defatted flavourless saltfree zero cholesterol no sodium substitute which bore about as much resemblance to turkey meat as water does to whisky. It came in a stale roll, sometimes accompanied by a miniature carrot, vacuum packed in cellophane. In retrospect I think the carrot was only for the donkeys travelling first class.

After an average of ten of these 'meals' a week over a two month period, and feeling particularly jaded after a tough day which had ended with my explaining for the umpteenth time to a travel agent that the US dollar was not the only currency in the world, I boarded a delayed flight from Los Angeles back to Houston. Somewhere over the Grand Canyon, a blonde Laurie, or Michelle, or Candy, or Jeannie, simpered in my ear:
"Will you be having dinner today, Sir?".
Something snapped inside me and I replied :
"No thanks, I'll have it tomorrow." This went straight over her head, or more probably, through it.
"I'm sorry, will you be having dinner today, Sir?, she repeated.
"I'll tell you what," I said, my enthusiasm for pissing her off growing by the minut
e, "if by any chance, if by some remote chance, you're serving turkey sandwiches, which are my absolute favourite, I'd love to have one. I know that this airline doesn't often treat its customers to turkey, but maybe today's my lucky day."
She selected a sandwich, opened it, examined the contents, handed it to me with one of those gleaming wall to wall toothpaste smiles that only Americans are capable of, and said :
"Gee Sir, you are so, so lucky, it is turkey today."
My exclamation of, "Gosh, I can't believe my luck" was rewarded as she handed me another sandwich, assuring me that they always carried extra. As I left the aircraft at Houston, she furtively handed me another one, whispering into my ear that it was against the rules, but they still had a few left over.

This will always be one of life's unsolved riddles. Was she humouring me as a potentially dangerous lunatic, or was she taken in by my performance? Out of respect for what is perhaps the world's greatest nation, even if they run some of the world's worst airlines, I'd like to think that it was the former, but sadly, I fear it was the latter.

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