The best story I have is from my reservation days.
We took a call on the RSD desk (supervisor/cust service desk) from an Asian man who wanted to go to "Wachida". Now, being a proud people and not willing to ask the man where in the hell "Wachida" was. We used every resource would could muster. We had a very detailed National Geographic Atlas, we had the internet, the Travel Guide (or what ever that book was we had in res) and we had about 7 or so of the best minds that AA had to offer. Damned if we could figure out where the heck "Wachida" was.
Well, much to our dismay it appeared that we were beaten and would have to ask the man where the heck it was.
"Sir, I'm very sorry but can you tell us where "Wachida" is? We have looked all over and we have no idea where it is."
"I want to go to Wachida, Wachida Kansas."
"Wichita?"
"Yes, Wachida, Kansas."
"One moment sir, we will set that right up for you."
Just gotta love the language barrier. We had a really good laugh over that phone call.
The other story I have is about a lady named Rose.
I was just out of training class in reservations. Maybe a few weeks. Still had very little idea of what I was doing.
Rose called and told me that she had to go to "Waterloo" to bury her last son. As I recall, she was in her late 90's and had already buried her husband and 2 other sons. I knew we did not fly there and I had no idea what the heck I was doing so I got my help desk on the line and pieced a reservation together. I called the airport that we were going to fly her too and gave them a heads up. It was a long call as I remember it. I remember thinking that a mother should never have to bury a child, much less 3 and a husband. I don't know what ever happened to Rose. I hope she made it to where she had to go and I hope she never had endure more heart ache than she had already endured. I learned a lot from Rose that day.
