When you've been together as long as we have, it's easy to take one another for granted. Familiarity breeds contempt, and, yes, I know that I am guilty. I said some things. You said some things. But does it really matter who was wrong or who was right? All I know is that I'm sorry, and I hope we can move past this.
OK, gotta' admit, I was fully prepared for this first entry to be a cranky, scathing review of the eight-hour flight across the bumpy Atlantic. I don't sleep on planes. Never have. By the end of an international flight I'm undoubtedly sore, sleep deprived, and ankle-deep in the detritus of mini liquor bottles and peanut wrappers that pretty much defines my in-flight, long-haul activity. (Although, if we're being perfectly honest, that also describes me after a twenty-minute commuter flight between Flint and Detroit). Regardless, I was fully prepared to spend the final two, grueling hours of my flight huddled over my iPad immaturely lashing out at the very peanut-filled hand that had fed me through four time zones.
But I just couldn't do it.
Maybe jet lag has me off my game. Maybe maturity brings with it a more unflappable sense of calm. Maybe this was the Delta exception that proves the rule. (Maybe I can't stop starting sentences with the word "maybe.")
The truth is, from the moment we checked our bags at the gate in Detroit until we walked off the gangplank in Paris, I felt like every employee at Delta that we interacted with was actually treating me like a customer, a valued customer. Sadly, in the past, their treatment toward me has typically ranged from somewhere between the extremes of "inconvenience" and "pariah." I never blamed the employees, mind you. That's a classic, tell-tale management problem. I used to tell my business students that a well managed company is easily identified by whether you want to love or loathe their employees.
Delta, gotta' say, I'm kinda' smitten with all of you right now. Management seems to have made some changes and the ground troops are rockin' it.
Merci beaucoup!
Tomorrow: Lots of Paris pix and back to my typical, a$$hole self.
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