Sir Richard, an aviation lament.

There once was a brand named Virgin,
owned by an adventurous man,
Virgin flew the seven seas –
to each unchartered land.
It’s branding was slick and indeed very neat
it really cut the mustard,
but with my trip – to New York and back,
your company turned to custard.

My flight from Melbourne to L.A.?
grounded; it had a flat tyre,
The captain said we miiiight takeoff…
But he was proved a liar.
After twenty four hours with little help
from your truly nonchalant crew
I boarded my new V. Australia flight
in hopes it would see me though.
I landed some hours later -hooray!
Cue debarcle number two.

Touching down at LAX
I picked up my checked in stuff
With no help from your absent staff
found my way to your co-share’s desk
– LAX can be quite rough.
Standing in line at Delta,
I awaited impending fate
and my hopes sank further and deeper still
as those before me in queue grew irate.

(You hadn’t booked them on a new connecting flight Rich, they had to pay.)

I kept my cool as best I could
for I see no point in rage,
but when Delta had no good news for me
tears streamed down my tired face.
Taking pity on a tired soul,
a spectacular Delta employee
booked a new flight to New York that day
and handed a phone to me.

“Sit here and call the Virgin number
tell them they need to help you out,
because they’ve said nothing to us Delta staff
and their competence we’ve begun to doubt.”

(Me too.)

So I sat on the floor at LAX
that early Sunday morn’
and when your CRAP hold music finally ceased
(Richard, I thought you ran a record label at one time?)
spoke through hope which was torn.

But you booked me on that brand new flight
so I went to buy some food
to settle my stomach and soothe my sadness
for your staff were unhelpful and rude.

That evening boarding my new flight
I was tired, but a box of birds!
My soul sang for joy in excited delight
for I was lost for words!
New York, New York I LOVE you so
There’sno place quite like you!
Chrysler Building, Brooklyn Bridge
Guggenheim and MoMa too!
I’ve dreamed of going to that grand old town
since I heard such a place existed!
And my little trip there surpassed ALL those dreams
not a single hope was twisted!

But my time was up in New York town
just the other day,
so I waved down a cab and we drove the roads
to get out to JFK.
My driver was lovely and the day was nice
but the pit of my stomach had turned to ice
for the memory of flights with your airline
had begun to resurface, afresh in my mind
but I settled my thoughts and convinced myself
“no, nothing like that will happen this time.”

(How quaint such a thought seems now.)

I made my way to to the Virgin desk
and was greeted with pure attitude
“No, go away thats a Delta flight,”
Richard, doesn’t that seem a touch rude?
Lugging my bags back over to Delta,
where the staff are ALWAYS kind
I got out my booking reference number
and joined another line.

Lady Delta I spoke with was newly engaged
her heart overflowed with love,
but she said my reference didn’t exist
and my own heart felt a swift shove.

Virgin, Virgin, not again!
How could you do this to me?
I was foolish to trust your airline of bafoons!
Now I began to see.

Welling up with tears again,
at major airport number two
alone I stood before Lady Delta,
at a loss for what to do.
But she stepped out from behind her desk
and took me be the arm,
“Come on honey I’ll walk you to Virgin,”
I was shocked by her kindness and charm.

(To the man who’s marrying her – congratulations, she is lovely.)

So she and I to Virgin walked
where staff shot us unwelcoming looks
the woman who initially told me to leave
glanced down and rechecked her books.
“No information, that reference doesn’t exist,
she’s not our problem… she’s yours.”
I was treated like a human ping pong ball,
knocked about between airline doors.
The tears came again,
but a man in a Virgin shirt helped me out
“Hallalujah! Praise God – someone cares at all!”
All in me wanted to shout.

The problem was solved – it was a Delta flight,
booked under Virgin’s name.
The reference number was useless too
which I’ll add to my “Virgin Customer Service Fails,” Hall of Fame.
I boarded my flight at LAX
checking though to Melbourne my green suitcase
flew to L.A. then transferred again,
to Australia my plane did chase!

My flight to Sydney? Surprisingly smooth,
So thankyou, it sure was the best!
Your food was tasty and your flicks watched well
and you had Dylan playing – heck yes!

Landing in Sydney happy and safe,
one more flight to get me home,
I waited for my green suitcase at the carousel…
when my name was called, across a megaphone.

(“Excuse me Miss Catherine Sie…. Siiii… Sietie… Siekowski? Can you please come to the Service Counter.”)

To the Service Counter!
Hand luggage in tow,
all smiles to be closer to home,
I stood at the counter awaiting my news
when the lady got off of the phone.

“I’m sorry Miss Sie…. uh, Catherine, your checked in luggage hasn’t made it.”

Hasn’t made it?
No, surely this could not be!
Has it died some where in Los Angeles?
Explain yourself Virgin you uncaring bunch!
Your airline of “surprises,” sure does pack a punch.
Just when I thought I was home in one piece
My suitcase, green suitcase was left overseas?

I boarded my flight from Sydney to Melbourne
after crying at airport three,
Virgin, you screwed me
through tears I did laugh
at that bitter, sheer irony!

Richard one last note,
directley to you
please know I don’t hate you
– that’s simply not true.
But I do have a query
as I respect you are smart,
and can tackle most questions
with such skillful art.

For a man of such wealth,
and a knighthood too
why run such a smart airline
with such a crap crew?