eightblack

I need you to stop what you are doing and hold hands with the person beside you. And pray to the upgrade Gods. For me.

Here's why.

As I outlined in my opening post above, I'm heading to Germany this weekend. And I'm flying LH for the first time in ages. 10-years to be exact. The funny thing is this. The F seats haven't changed one bit. If you ask me, they look ridiculous. I think they must have been created on the last day of an Oktoberfest, when everyone was so blind drunk they could hardly see their drawing boards through the haze of cigar smoke and beer fumes.

Or something like this.

Actually, the last time I flew on Lufthansa was in F. Years ago, I used to have a real job and once a month or so, I would do a RTW Star Alliance in A class. It was circa 2000 BC (before children). When I had a life. And a lot more hair. But they were the exact same seats! I remember them like yesterday.

I'm checking ExpertFlyer every 13-minutes, like a crazed teenager who has had too much Red Bull. Loads are high. About 6 seats left in J. And only 4 in F. As far as I can tell. Here, take a look.



You see, I want to try and use a UA SWU to go from J to F. Not for the seat. But so I can access the FCT in FRA. Someone above quite rightly pointed out that I didn't want to visit the FCL, but rather the FCT. Quite right you are. I don't know why, but the FCT in FRA is on my air travel "bucket list". But then again, so is Sienna Miller. And Jessica Alba. And Jessica Biel. And my 3rd grade english teacher.

Actually, I take that back. Imagine. My 3rd grade english teacher! What was I thinking. Obviously not the fact that I am now 44-years old and she would have to be, I don't know, about 107. Apparently, in Kansas, you can get arrested for having such impure thoughts.

Anyway the flight in question looks like it has the same load as an Indian passenger train on a Friday afternoon.

I decided to call LH in Germany to see if I could find any more detail about my flight in question. So I look up the number on the web, fire up Skype and voila, a German voice appears on the other end.

I politely ask if we could speak english. The lovely German lady obliges. I ferret around for the PNR. She taps away and retrieves my booking.

"How can I help you?"
"Yes, I want to know how I go about applying a United SWU to my booking"
"A what?"
"A United System-Wide upgrade certificate"
"You have voucher"
"Yes, I do"
"A Lufthansa voucher"
"Not exactly, a United one"
"No, this is not United. This is Lufthansa"

My eyes start to glaze over… but I push on.

"Yes, I know this is Lufthansa, but I want to know how I can use a voucher I have to upgrade from J to F?"
"You want Miles and More number?" the woman asks
"No - not really"
"Lookit, how many seats are left in J. Is it full?" I ask sternly
"I don't know. They don't tell me that"

More tapping. I'm sure we're both saying "Scheiße" under our respective breaths. I know I am.
The poor agent is probably wondering why she pulled the morning shift and I'm wondering if I would have received more help if I had have called the 1-800-Mormon line in Munich.

In the end, we both agree that the call was a waste of time. She insists that I write down the Miles and More number. I think she then went to have a lie down. She clearly had no clue what a SWU was and to be fair, was probably working the general reservation number, so it wasn't really her fault that some smart alec Australian called trying to be difficult.

Now, even though I haven't used an SWU on LH before, like a good FT'er, I did crawl all over the LH forum and see that UA SWU's are applied at check-in, and not before. (I think that's right). So no end of calling and pleading will have LH apply them any sooner. I will happily stand corrected though.

The other issue working against me is that some bright spark at LH decided that they would stop selling half the F seats in what is (or was) a 16-seat cabin on a 747. Which means only 8 seats are now available.

Maybe I'll go to the airport a day early. Maybe I should leave now. Well, not right now. As I am presently stuck in Kuala Lumpur and have a 2-day sales meeting to sit through. Shoot me now. I'm bunkered down at the Intercontinental in KL (which used to be the old Nikko hotel). I sent my son an email telling him that he should get here pronto as the bathrooms have the famous Japanese toilets which he became so fond of over Christmas.

Actually, I don't know why I sent an email to my family or tried to call earlier. And besides, there's no point going home as they aren't talking to me anyway.

Even if you don't want to know why, I am going to tell you. Dear and gentle reader, just wait until you hear this.

You may want to grab a drink...

As I outlined - we recently flew home to MEL while the kids were on term break. Scrub that. You don't need to know that same old detail. Here's the gist of it.

We have a cat. Lets call it Bangle. Because that's its' name. It is quite possibly the most idiotic animal we have ever owned. And we've owned some psychos. Once we had a rat terrier dog who thought it only had 3 legs - so he used to run around with one of its rear legs tucked up underneath as if it wasn't there (even though the 4th limb was perfectly fine and functioned like it should). The first words to come out of our daughters mouth was "Otis. Retarded". The dogs name was Otis. And he was very much mentally challenged. Don't start me on our dog ownership experience. Another time maybe.

Back to Bangle. When we moved to Singapore, I said to the kids that we were going to take a break from animals. They promptly ignored me and within 2-days of us arriving, had convinced their mother to let them have 2 hamsters. In the natural order of useful things on the planet there's plankton. Then comes hamsters.

The hamsters would lie around all day doing nothing, but as soon as night fell, they would be on those freaking spinning wheels from sunset to sunrise. Within days, the kids were bored with their furry friends and along came Bangle the cat. "Good", I said to myself. Maybe the cat will eat the hamsters. Law of the jungle. Suits me fine.

Except for the fact that the kids used to put the damn hamsters in these plastic balls so they could stretch their legs and roam all over the place. But the cat would simply look at them and run away in fear. I will admit to taking great pleasure (when the kids weren't looking) at kicking those plastic containers with the hamsters in them from one end of the apartment to the other. Call the RSPCA. See what I care.

The cat. The cat. Yes, I'm getting to that part. So, we finally part ways with the hamsters due to none of us sleeping for 3-straight weeks and then the cat starts to have a melt down. It would "meow" all damn night. On and on and on. It was relentless.

During the day, it simply copied the now missing hamsters and would sleep. Forever. But as the daylight disappeared it would perform a feline version of Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and go berserk. Ballistic in fact.

My wife, being a farmers daughter, knew exactly what was going on. It was no longer a kitten. It was a cat. And a boy one at that. It had matured.

Are you with me now?

We sat the kids down and and patiently explained to them both that Bangle was growing up and needed to go to the vet to "get fixed"

"What's that?" asked our 7-year old daughter
"It's when the Vet removes Bangles boy bits" I responded
"Oh, like what Mum had done to you?" she said matter of factly
"Well, yes, sort of" I blushed
"Except for the fact that I wasn't running around the apartment all night trying to hump the pot plant"

My wife groaned at the way I was explaining things so she interjected.

"It wont hurt Bangle one bit. The vet will put him to sleep and he won't feel a thing" she said reassuringly
"But Dad said it hurt"
"Ignore your father. He's a moron"
"Anyway enough of that. It's decided. Bangles going to the Vet"
"Nooooooo", both kids wailed in protest.
And that was the end of that. Or so they thought.

So, when the kids and wife were still in Australia recently, I had to come back to Singapore for a few days. Just me and our Filipino housekeeper. By this stage, the stupid animal could have woken the dead. I had reached my limit and grabbed the laptop in desperation. Within seconds, our good friends at Google told me what I wanted to know and I was on the phone to the closest vet.

"Hello"
"Yes"
"I want to book our cat in to get its balls cut off. Hurry. Quicker. I'll pay anything" I demanded.
"Excuse me?" the woman on the other end says
"Look lady, I'm at my wits end. We need to do this pronto. Before the kids get home" I plead
"Sir, are you alright?" she asks
"Do I sound alright?"
"You want the cat de-sexed"
"Yes. Today if possible"
"No. But we can do Monday"
"Perfect. I'll take it"
"Have the cats testicles descended?" she asks
"Excuse me" thinking that she must have said something else.
"Cats testicles. Go check" she barks.

Now, I may have some strange habits, but looking at the genitalia of cats is not one of them

I yell for the housekeeper.

"Rosemary!"
"Yes Sir"
"Grab the cat"
She grabs Bangle
"Check to see where its knackers are?"
"What sir?"
"You know, its boy bits"
She looks at me in horror. The blood drains from her face and she stands there quivering.
"But Sir, you want to cut off now?"
"Not now you silly woman" I respond
"The vet wants to know….Oh never mind. Gimme the cat"

I don't know if you've ever tried to do this at home, but trying to look underneath a cat at its nether regions is not quite like popping the hood on your car and checking the oil level. For one, cats aren't the most co-operative of creatures. Especially when they are inverted.

Needless to say, the cat put up quite a struggle. The housekeeper thought I was about to perform an exorcism on the poor animal and promptly ran and hid under her bed. But not before she grabbed every kitchen knife she could find.

Thankfully, I relayed the required information to the Vets receptionist and we were all booked in. Thank god.

There's a little more to this story. But I'm conscious that you all have better things to do than read this drivel. Which brings me neatly to the point of my family not talking to me.

Kids and wife arrive home a few days after this sordid ordeal. Kids take one look at the cat who appears to be a bit lighter in its loafers - if you know what I mean

"Dad, whats wrong with Bangle?" The Small One asks
"I sent him to the Vet to get his fishing tackle removed" I say matter of factly
"Speak english you idiot" my wife says
"Well he was a boy. Now he's not"

The kids wail in protest. My wife takes their side. And they all refuse to talk to me. That was 2-weeks ago.

Sleeping in the spare room hasn't been so bad. I have my own bathroom, TV and the wifi works just fine. The wine fridge is even in the same room. What more could I need?

See what my life is like. Roll on Germany is all I can say.

More soon.

Drunkmuppet

This absolutely made my hangover more bearable after reading this today!

Thanks,

ArizonaGuy

Love the writing style as most anyone else does. Though I personally find this one lacking in comparison to previous trip reports. It's not bad by any means. I just think too much effort is being made to be funny and keep to the writing style, whereby it seemed to flow naturally in previous reports. Maybe I'm alone in this, maybe I'm not. Who knows?

Nevertheless, I'm still enjoying the report!

eightblack

ArizonaGuy, I take your point. I don't set out to be funny at all. That's for you to judge. I write as a result of direct experience. What you read is what happens. To me.

Trust me. This is a tough audience...and I have no desire to win a popularity contest.

Regardless of what anyone says, comments on Trip Reports fuel the author. Otherwise why would we write them. I am grateful for yours. And everyone elses.

calvinoeh

Another classic from eightblack.. keep the TRs coming!

Buster CT1K

Report is just great, and the trip hasn't even started yet! :-)

Canibus

I feel like a crack addict who just got his latest fix. Thanks Eightblack!

ArizonaGuy

Fantastic. I try not to be too critical, I'm grateful you and everyone else who contributes even bothers to do so. I do overall enjoy your stream of consciousness style. After all, nothing is funnier than real life.

jfkeze

I think half of my beer landed on my keyboard and most of the neighbors and my two dogs think I'm clinically insane...
gotta love these eb TRs!!!

radar98

Your story about your male puss is absolutely hilarious. Maybe one day we can have a couple of beers together and I'll tell you the story of our $4000.00 medical bill for our cat and he's not even a bloody thoroughbred.

To make matters worse I'm from the bush but we now live in the city. I cringe every time I think about it....

Cheers to you mate... I know you did the right thing now where was my schooner ????

eightblack

Crikey. What a week!

But look what seat I got...



More to come. Drinking heavily in the SilverKris F Lounge in T3. Some sort of cheap champagne called Leroy Duval. Or Duval Leroy. I forget. It's not dogwash.

Now what on earth am I going to do with 3-hours to kill here in SIN and then 7-hours at the FCT in Frankfurt?

Boy oh boy oh boy...

eightblack

This morning, I even packed early. Which is unusual for me. Normally, I pack an hour before I leave. Which drives my family mad if I'm on an early morning flight.

It's funny what pending upgrades do to your state of mind.

I check EF as soon as I get up. Then 10-mins later. Even take my laptop to my sons soccer practice. What a sad git. One of the nosey mothers asked me what I was doing working on my PC when I should be watching my son play.

I said to her I was googling "why married women over 40 let themselves go and put on weight. Like her". Silly cow. She moved seats. Good.

I know. I know. As a father, I should take an interest. But number one son and I have an agreement. I don't do ball sports. I don't do tennis. Or football. Of any code. When was the last time you saw a co-ordinated Asian? See, I rest my case. And I'm sorry, ping pong is not a sport. It's for the mentally unhinged.

Truth be told - I'm not even sure I'll be able to enjoy my F experience on LH, because a about a week and half a go I caught the worst cold known to man. I thought I was going to die. I still may. (Yes, yes, yes, I can hear you all getting out your invisible violins in untold sympathy). I'm as crook as a dog. Worse even.

I called my kids during the week when I was in KL.

"Hello" I feigned in the sickest voice possible, "It's Dad."
The Small One asked what I wanted...
I said to her that I was gravely ill and that she may not see me again. Ever.
She said "okay, but can you buy me a present then before you die?"

The kids and my wife have been unsympathetic to say the least. The cat is pissing itself laughing in the corner of the apartment wishing an incurable disease upon my weary old frame. Sweet revenge.

Look, we all know males don't suffer in silence. I don't pretend to be one of them. I cry like a baby. And complain like one too.

But the possibility of F is calling me. I will myself onwards. Like the trooper that I am. I take as many pills from the medicine cabinet as possible. Swallow every one. With a Bloody Mary chaser just for good measure.

So, I'm all packed ready to go. Flight leaves at 11.05pm. Catch a cab to the airport and was determined to be at check in with at least 3 hours to spare. Murphy's Law applies and I get a cab driver who is literally older than my father. Drives with one foot on the gas pedal and one on the brake. Swears in Mandarin the whole way at the traffic and the fact that he had to drive all the way to the airport. The journey took so long that my phone rang and my kids asked "are you there yet?"

Or something like that.

I thought if LH process UA Systemwide upgrade requests on a standby request, I wanted to get there as early as possible. My foot was starting to jig and I seriously thought about ripping the old man from his seat and taking over the driving part. I had already lost the will to live long ago.

Arrive at T2 and this is what is in front of me.



LH had only 2 early check-in counters open. The flight wasn't officially open. To the right was the zoo. Otherwise known as the Air India check in counter.

I saw an email earlier today from one of the travel websites I subscribe to and apparently, the email went something like this. The Air India Pilots didn't feel like coming to work today. Or tomorrow. Or even yesterday. Which threw the whole sordid affair into a bigger mess than it normally is. The check in area looked like the train station in Dehli. Or Calcutta. Or Mumbai.



I was knee deep in Indian workers. Who all wanted to get home. And each of them had what looked like a small shipping container of luggage. It was bedlam. There was a lot of arm waving.

The funny thing is that no one appeared to be overly stressed. That's the great thing about Indians in situations like this. They understand chaos better than anyone. Everyone copes. Smiles stay on peoples faces. If they didn't get home today, they'd try again tomorrow. Or the day after. None of this "DYKWIA" nonsense.

Air India were even putting up everyone for the night. Which pleased the sea of people no end.

I managed to claw my way to one of the early check in counters and said...

"Hey, I'm on the FRA flight and was wondering if I could use this UA voucher to upgrade"
The friendly Malay agent smiled and said he'd check.
The dreaded agent tap dance started on the keyboard.
I kept smiling
The noise from the adjacent check in area was now at a dull roar.

I asked the friendly man which flight was busier - the SIN-FRA or the SIN-MUC. Both left at the same time. He said the load in F was "easier" on the FRA flight I was on. Whatever that meant.

He reached for the walkie talkie, looking for the LH rep. He said he would have to check with a man far more important than him.

I held my breath.

He then promptly got up and walked off into the distance. Today's and tomorrows flights were way oversold down the back and there was a sign on the counter advising people that they would get 600 Euros if they went a day later, a hotel and meals and all you could drink. Or something like this.

I asked the agent on the adjacent counter if this applied to J customers. Sadly, it did not.

Then, my man returned. And then he said the sweetest words I have ever heard…

"We have applied the upgrade to F immediately. No need to standby"

And that was it. Boom. Done. All finished. I thanked him profusely. I don't think I cared what he did with my bag or bothered to check where he sent it to. As if I cared. I shook hands with the man and then I think I even skipped off into the distance. Just a little bit.

Then I remembered I was in T2. Which has the 10-year old SKL (and which is being renovated commencing next week). It's average. So I hoofed it all the way to T3. Which is much better. And where I am right now.

It's 10pm SIN time. An hour to go. More to come from the FCT in FRA.

If I don't die during the flight. If I do, Ung1 has my FT power of attorney...

Cheers.

muzthe42nd

eb, any chance you could start a blog so you don't even need to pretend that your stories are about travel? I'm pretty sure a large proportion of readers of this forum would be happy to subscribe to it...

JumboJetLA

well I would for sure subscribe to it!!

flyingstudent

There's only MUC-PAD, not FRA-PAD. How are you getting from FRA-PAD?

One of my dear college friends live in Paderborn and I visited her two years ago. What a wonderful little town!