This is a Trip Report from the Upper Class cabin
Ground Staff
Food & Drink
Entertainment
Seat
Cabin Crew
Back to the flight. Arriving at LAX I headed to check in at Terminal 2. Virgin's decision of several years back to outsource its ground staff has I imagine come back to haunt them so many times that I will not describe my interaction with the check-in person, that is, other than to say it was a mediocre experience at best. The diminution of Virgin's reputation that is foisted upon us by these rent-a-persons is regretable.
Once through the TSA version of Heathrow's 'shoe carnival' -- rather less entertaining and a totally humo(u)rless affair, it is -- I spent about an hour enjoing VS's lounge which at LAX is operated by Air New Zealand. The staff here were most accommodating, friendly and courteous, the beverage cold and plentiful, and wi-fi free on demand. Too soon it was it was time to head to the aircraft and once 'premium boarding' was announced I found myself the very first soul to board.
(Now switching to customer mode from moderator mode). After a rather perfunctory greeting from a flight attendant, which I parried and proffered more conversation, to no avail, I went to my seat and settled in. Departure announcements were fine but there were no individualized greetings, certainly nothing of the sort I experienced on flights going back five years or so (euphamistically referred to here as PVDDS: the Pre-Virgin Decisions to Downgrade Service period).
Yes, PVDDS was the Golden Era: red pillows, a truly festive champagne greeting, an amenity kit worth keeping. There were staff who smiled and called passengers by name. I fondly recall rather good food, too. Ah, but that was before the Great Accounting Pronouncements (GAP). GAP decreed that no passenger shall be provided anything beyond what's necessary.
Thusly prepared I wasn't really expecting a rewarding flight experience. Thus, having not experienced one I wasn't terribly disappointed. The food was fine, quite good actually, but served woodenly and when I requested that all courses be served at once (one used to receive this option without begging) the flight attendant questioned whether that's what I truly desired. Why, yes.
Seated in the sleep section I thought I'd be doing some of that. But alas, I learned that VS has apparently converted the former IFBT area (In Flight Beauty Therapist, one of the final points of difference cast adrift at the end of the PVDDS) into an office of sorts. Here flight attendants scurried to and fro, seated on the old IFBT chair, writing notes on what used to be her nail treatment desk. The relative quiet of snipping cuticle tissue has given way to the less quiet drinking of coffee and movement of people back and forth on the port aisle of the aircraft, people who don't look down as they walk, only forward. These same people -- pardon me, flight attendants -- managed to kick my feet over a half dozen times during the course of the evening, awakening me with not as much as 'pardon'.
Towards 1030 or so London time I turned my bed back into a chair and had a fairly tasty breakfast. The response from a flight attendant when I queried whether I might have a second cup of coffee was typical of how the crew interacted with those pesky interruptions, we passengers: none of the 'right away, sir' I remembered from PVDDS. Now we have a sort of shorthand communication: grunts, nods, no eye communication, no smiling. GAP leaders must be thrilled for truly, there were no wasted movements during the breakfast period.
Once the automatons had put away the breakfast materials their brethren were found at the bar, that once jolly haven where sitting and talking is now discouraged because, don't you see, this is where staff must work! Ah, I spied a lone dissenter, a young male FA who was so friendly I asked him how he could always be smiling, as indeed I'd noticed him doing so nearly the entire flight. 'It's in my bones, I guess,' he replied. 'Some would say I have a smile tattoo.' Hey, I'll take it! Don't go. Please come back.
We landed nearly ten minutes late and were off the plane quickly, none too soon for this aged traveler who at the conclusion of the flight felt like he'd lost a good friend.
Indeed, Virgin, where art thou?
Chuck-
