Talk Back: Flying the unfriendly skies
If you haven’t seen us around for a while, it’s because we’ve gone into hiding. In an underground bunker at an undisclosed location. Not exactly our preference, but after what we’ve been through the past few weeks — with just about everybody on our case — it’s the only way we’ve managed to stay sane. Apparently, our sole purpose in life is to be at their constant beck and call. And drop everything we’re doing at a moment’s notice to comply with their demands. In exchange for which we get raked over the coals.
For following their directions to the letter.
How were we supposed to know when unloading the little old lady’s car next door that her “put it anywhere” directive did not include inside the oven? Or that despite being told to get “only what’s on the list,” we should have ignored the misspelled “brocoli” written on it and bought the kind with two “c’s” instead of coming home empty-handed. Because “you should have known what I meant.” Isn’t that how it always goes? You listen carefully, do exactly as you’re told, and the only thanks you get is a trip to the woodshed.
Followed by the silent treatment for a week.
That’s not always a bad thing. After all, silence is golden. The Tremeloes said so. But even a steady diet of Simon and Garfunkel gets old after a while. Particularly when all you’re after is a little old-fashioned customer service. From a human being with whom you can actually have a back-and-forth conversation to eliminate any confusion about oddly spelled vegetables. Is that really so much to ask?
In the case of Frontier Airlines, the answer is a resounding yes.
The Denver-based company likes to bill itself as greener than any other airline, dedicated to preserving North American fauna, and providing the lowest fares around. In other words, a whole different animal. Well, they’re different all right. In the name of efficiency, you can’t call their customer service phone line anymore. They just got rid of it. Because the sky’s for everyone, they say.
Except those who want to talk to a live person on the phone.
In the name of ease and efficiency, Frontier has pulled the plug on phones and replaced them with a chatbot. We’re pretty sure that’s the thing mama wore and The Who sang about. Because nothing says customer service better than an automated computer program that regurgitates whatever’s in their website’s FAQ section that you already looked at and doesn’t begin to answer what’s top of mind. No wonder Daddy never sleeps at night. Neither will you when that automated gizmo gives the same response to every question you pose.
Mambo dogface to the banana patch.
Yet Frontier claims to be the airline for everyone. So long as “everyone” is defined as people with broadband connections — something nearly one in four either don’t have or can’t afford even though they’re likely the same folks in greatest need of a budget airline when making travel plans. Because when you’re charging only 18 bucks for a seat, you don’t have time to explain things to someone who wants a clarification. Like, is that seat actually in an airplane?
Or is it just a chair somebody put out on the tarmac.
Perhaps after having their wings clipped by the feds for failing to refund flights canceled by the pandemic, Frontier figures customer service is expendable. In that case, they might as well go all in, take that different animal thing to a whole new level, and become an airline unlike any other.
One that’s permanently grounded.
Talk Back with Doug Spade and Mike Clement is heard every Saturday morning from 9 a.m. to noon Eastern Time on Buzz 102.5 FM and online at www.dougspade.com and www.lenconnect.com.
This article originally appeared on The Daily Telegram: Talk Back: Flying the unfriendly skies
