Over the course of the last six days, I’ve sent two emails to refundshouston@coair.com, one to onepass@coair.com and reached out to get in touch with @Continental on Twitter to no avail. The topic: the way Continental Airlines handles upgrades. The response: Crickets (not even an auto-responder acknowledging receipt).
Since I spent a couple long, cramped hours writing this on a plane, I figured I’d share it here in hopes that at least one other human being on the planet will read it and tell me if I’m taking crazy pills.
As I concede early on in the message, there are a lot bigger fish to fry, and if this is the worst problem I ran into on my vacation, I’m a pretty blessed individual. The idea that such a big company can be a part of such a struggling industry and still have common sense screw-ups like this in their system is frustrating … Maybe there are other problems like this that no one is trying to fix, and that’s why Continental is cutting back on meals and charging $3 for rickety headsets.
Dear Continental,
I’ve probably read more than my fair share of angry rants online, and I’ve come to appreciate measured, professional and rational perspectives. I’m going to do what I can here to stay as measured, professional and rational as I can here in hopes that this feedback isn’t shrugged off. I’m also going to concede right off the bat that the nature of my experience isn’t going to garner too much sympathy.
I chose to fly Continental to Hawaii from Houston for vacation. I booked the round trip flight on continental.com a few weeks ago, and I was excited for the trip. I was set to depart IAH on Wednesday, July 7 and return on the red-eye Sunday night/Monday morning. Because I planned on heading into the office on Monday morning and I happen to be 6’5”, I decided to take advantage of the “upgrade to Business First” offer online for the return flight so I could be rested as I started the work week. The price offered to get me onto the waitlist for the flight: $450 + 17,500 miles. It was a lot of money and enough miles to get me half of a “saver” round trip reward reservation, but it’s a vacation, and with a 7.5-hour flight, I could justify it. Also, because complimentary Elite upgrades aren’t available from Houston to Hawaii, I wasn’t risking paying for an upgrade I may have gotten for free.
Flash forward to Thursday morning. I showed up to the airport at about 9:00am. Because I fly a few times per year, I found the investment in a President’s Club membership to be worthwhile, so I make my way into the President’s Club in Terminal E. I checked the flight status on my way in, and I saw that Business First seats were available for the flight to HNL, so I asked one of the representatives at the counter whether any upgrade options were available … She gave me the great news that a day-of revenue upgrade was available for $300. Having considered $450 + 17,500 miles “reasonable” for the flight home, I bit the bullet. By taking that offer, I checked the upgrade status list and saw that I was confirmed for a seat up front despite the fact that a few other people were already on standby for upgrades (who could be significant later on in our story).
Having committed $150 and 17,500 miles more than my day-of upgrade for the pre-booked upgrade for the flight home, my natural reaction was to wonder why I was getting a worse deal on the way back than I was on the way there. I sent an email to the account you list on your site about refunds … If I got one of the 4 available seats on the way back to Hawaii, it would be good to have at least started the conversation about the differences in the cost before the fact. I didn’t hear back from anyone, but I was in Hawaii with friends having a great vacation (which started with that great Business First flight into HNL).
Flash forward to Saturday night (24 hours before departure). I check in online, and I see that I’m at the top of the standby list for an upgrade to Business First back to Houston. There are still several seats available, and while I didn’t have a confirmed seat, I’m feeling good about my chances. On Sunday evening, I head to the airport early because I’m still the only person on the upgrade list with several seats available, and I want to be available to get it as soon as it clears. I get into the HNL President’s Club and ask the representative at the desk about upgrade options on the flight back, and she says the same revenue upgrade that I got for the first flight is available: $300 and no mileage commitment. At this point, no one else is on standby nor confirmed for an upgrade.
What natural assumption can I make here? I’ve already paid $150 more than these day-of upgrade offer takers, and I’ve even put 17,500 miles on the line. The logical conclusion is that I’m going to be the first person to get a more comfortable seat for a 4,000 mile flight. I won’t unnecessarily build up the suspense: I wouldn’t be spending so much time writing this if it worked out the way it should have. I might have continued my pursuit of a conversation with the refund department about balancing what I paid in advance and what was offered to other customers.
If we jump back a couple sentences ago, we’re sitting in the President’s Club, frequently refreshing the upgrade standby list. 16 of 20 seats in Business First are booked, and all 16 of those passengers are checked in. One refresh and another passenger’s name shows up as a confirmed upgrade holder. I go up to the representative at the desk to ask her how the upgrades are prioritized in this case, and all she’s able to say is that she can’t help what the kiosks offer and confirm for the flight. I refresh a few more times, and another passenger is confirmed. A few more and a third passenger’s name is on the list. The upgrade list shows 19 out of 20 seats booked, and I’m still at the top of the standby list. Another passenger is now on the standby list behind me.
We approach boarding time, so I head down to the gate to ask the gate agent when the last seat is likely to clear. He says the cabin is booked and checked in full (despite the fact that the real-time status page showed a seat open). By this time, I’m really frustrated that all signs point to me committing more to get an upgrade only to lose that upgrade to someone paying less. Because the upgrade didn’t clear, the miles and the money I paid upon reserving my spot on the waitlist will be refunded, so I’m mad that I’m NOT spending $450 and 17,500 miles.
I head down the jetway, and if the experience wasn’t already frustrating enough, I find myself in the stereotypical “uncomfortable flight.” My seat neighbor fills the seat (and the “shared” armrest), there’s a baby crying three rows behind me, and my knees are an inch from the seat in front of me (when it’s not reclined). One last bit of salt in the wound: the passenger’s name below mine on the upgrade list disappears. The upgrade list still shows 19/20 in Business First, and another passenger moves from behind me in the plane (which means he had to get on through the “Economy” door) up to the Business First cabin two rows in front of me. At this point, I’m entirely convinced that “Sco, R.” somehow circumvented the system to get the last seat. I have no idea if that’s actually the case, though.
Here are some points that I feel should be reiterated:
- 17,500 miles are equivalent to more than half of many saver round trips on Continental, and since I go to San Francisco at least a few times every year, we’ll call it half of the usual cost of that ticket in my case: $200.
- Paying less money at the airport the day of a flight appears to give you a better chance at getting an upgrade than paying more money online in advance.
- Assuming the above mileage estimation is accurate, Continental lost the equivalent of $350 by prioritizing a day-of revenue upgrade over mine.
- I’m upset that I’m not giving you $450 and what is essentially $200 of travel money that I was going to have to spend when I couldn’t use those miles.
- Apparently this situation is not uncommon … both of the agents I spoke with simply shrugged it off and blamed it on “the system”
- If Continental isn’t empowering and incentivizing employees to find and report these seemingly common inconsistencies, you could be missing huge opportunities to save money (or even better: to save your customers money)
- I have several hours of uncomfortable flying yet to go, and the baby behind me just started crying for the third time this flight.
I don’t know how common situations like mine actually are, so I can’t speculate on how much money Continental is leaving on the table here. I know that I bypassed several customers waiting for upgrades on the IAH->HNL flight, and I can only assume they were on the list because they took advantage of the online offer. Maybe they took the money plus miles approach that I did for the second flight. Maybe they were ready to drop the $1,000 cash price for the upgrade only to have someone paying $300 get the seat.
What if this happens regularly? Would fixing system that prioritizes $300 over $450 + 17,500 miles make Continental some significant amount of money every year? Would it make people like me happier because Continental is at least meeting the expectations being set?
Even if I had gotten the upgrade but still known that I could have paid less by just waiting until the last minute, that’s still a terrible feeling for a price-conscious customer.
