Safety Matters with Airport Parking

I typically fly out of the small regional airport that is six miles from my house. Occasionally, flight times or fares make flying out of Boston Logan the better option, despite it being an hour’s drive away and having super expensive ($20/day!) parking.

There are a number of private lots around Logan that offer slightly cheaper rates, and I had used one before without issue, so I went that route again. This time, I found a lot through a company called Way.com that outsources parking to third-party business in areas around the country.

The website reviews were great, the lot had more than 500 parking spaces, and the best part was the valet aspect of the service:

“Our friendly employees help with your luggage and ensure that when you come back your vehicle is warm in winter (with snow removed), and cool in summer!”

I would be getting back at midnight when temperatures were forecast to be well below zero, so the idea of having my car warmed up and ready sealed the deal.

I was confused and a bit apprehensive when I arrived because the lot only fit maybe 20-30 cars. But there were other customers awaiting the shuttle with me, and I figured the staff probably moved the cars to a bigger lot for storage and back for pickup. No big deal. That’s what “valet” means, right?

Upon return, my flight got in at midnight as scheduled. I called the shuttle and the driver picked me up in a marked van within minutes. So far, so good. There were other customers in the van with me. I texted my friend to let her know I was safe.

Then, it got weird.

As we were heading to the lot, the driver asked for our claim check numbers so he could call to have the cars warmed up. Which is great, except he started calling in the numbers for four tickets while driving the van. I didn’t love that he was not focused on driving as he kept shuffling the tickets around and shouting numbers into his phone.  

Search results. 

Then, we arrived at a huge, dark parking lot. This was not the same lot where I left my car. I looked around inside the van for a sticker or notice with an address for our destination. There wasn’t one. One of the other guests and I exchanged nervous looks. It was midnight, it was dark, it was cold, and we had no idea where we were.

Cars for two of the other parties in the van were warmed up and ready for them. My car and that of my fellow shuttle passenger were not there. The driver got out of the van, yelling into his phone to someone about our missing cars, while my fellow passenger and I got more and more nervous.

Finally, the driver gets back in the van, and said he was going to drive us to our cars. Except, he didn’t actually know where our cars were. We drove around the lot, row by row, looking for our vehicles. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw mine. The driver hit the button on the key fob, my lights flashed, we knew we had the right car. I grabbed my suitcase, handed him a tip, and got in my car as quickly as I could.

I did opt to tip him because at that time, the reality of my situation hadn’t sunk in, plus, I didn’t know the operations and whose fault the mishap was. If it wasn’t the driver’s fault that my car wasn’t ready, I didn’t see why he should be penalized. After all, he did drive me to my car at midnight on a frigid

Actual photo of where I brought my car.

night, right?

As I scraped the windows and warmed up the car, I looked around. It was dark. It was cold. I still had no idea where I was. The driver had zoomed off with the other passenger to look for his car. I was alone.

How would I have called for help when I didn’t know my location? There was no where to walk to that I could see, and even if there were any businesses around, what would be open at that hour? If I needed to call Roadside Assistance for a jump start, or even the police, where would I tell them to go?

My car started, I scraped the windows, and drove the hour home. I was safe. I was sound. I chalked this up to life experience and vowed never to use that lot again.

It took about 24 hours to really sink in just how unacceptable this situation was.

How hard would it have been for the company to post a sticker in the van with the drop-off address? Or better yet, include that information on the contract at time of booking? And is it really not possible for them to have a better system for getting the cars warmed up and ready than having the driver shouting into his phone, reading off tickets while driving (which clearly doesn’t work, seeing as two of the four cars were not ready when we arrived)?

The contract included an email address to use to request redress in the form of a full or partial refund in the event of any issues, so I sent an email with the details and requested a refund.

The response:

We would like to express our empathy for the shuttle troubles and will forward your experience to our parking management team.

I wrote again, pointing out that I had requested a refund.

The response:

I do apologize, but because the reservation was used in full, we are unable to refund this reservation.

Because the reservation was used in full? They had to be kidding. This is a non-reason for refusing to address my concern. Of course my reservation was used in full! The issues were upon my return

So, I turned to Twitter.

I tweeted that I would like an actual response to my concerns, and that I was not okay with paying for being abandoned in a dark parking lot at midnight.

Within hours, the company messaged that they would have the customer service representative who had emailed me give me a call.

When she called, the situation got even weirder.

“First, I would like to start by telling you that that was not me who sent those emails,” she said.

“It was not you who sent emails from your account with your name on them?” I asked, bewildered.

The online reviews were great.

She explained that they were very busy, so to alleviate some of the workload, a colleague had sent the emails.

Opening by passing the buck is an interesting customer service strategy.

She asked me to recount my experience, and I did. She confirmed that she had called the valet lot, which was a third party vendor that her company contracted to provide the service, and they had corroborated my experience. The manager there said that they do not explicitly state that customers’ cars are moved to a different lot for storage, because the word “valet” in the title implies this.

I agreed with her on that, but pointed out that nowhere was it stated that I would personally be

returned to a different physical location.

I then explained my concern with being left in an unknown location, at night, in the dark, alone. She agreed that that was not a good experience, and offered to provide a refund for half of my fee. She then said that she could not refund the entire fee because “the third party vendor still has to get paid.”

Valet services were enticing.

In other words, she expected the customer to pay the vendor regardless of quality of service, so that her company would not be financially penalized by their bad business practices.

Granted, this customer service rep had established from the start of the phone call that her company had no intention of taking responsibility for their contract.

I persisted with my request for a refund. She again said that because the contract was fulfilled, the third party vendor still needed to get paid. I explained that the burden of paying them needed to be on her company, and not at the expense of my personal safety.

She finally agreed to refund the full amount, but not before saying that doing so would likely get her in trouble with her manager, because they were supposed to reserve full refunds for “really serious” situations, such as when a car is broken into, or – get this - when a customer was run over by a shuttle driver.

That’s right – they have a policy in place for awarding compensation to people who get run over by cars.

I was speechless. I am still speechless. I was further stunned when, after our conversation ended, the customer service rep emailed me to confirm the refund, and then said:

Also, a small request if not too much to ask. If you could remove your social media posting regarding your recent experience, this will help scale our team for future growth. Our team appreciates your feedback and will work diligently to make sure this doesn't happen in the future.

“This will help scale our team for future growth” ?!?

I do not understand a company that is more concerned with hiding its bad business decisions than it is to work to correct those bad decisions. There are so many ways this situation could have been handled better. It’s really not hard to treat people with basic respect and take responsibility when things don’t go as planned.  I, for one, will not use this company again. I have already found a reputable source for airport parking options that has been vetted by a colleague. I’m embarrassed that I put myself in this situation, but more than that, I am angry that this is a business that feels that my situation was relatively minor because, after all, it wasn’t like my car was damaged or I got hurt.

Italian Time

When I travel, I like to spot the differences between my home country and my host country. This can actually be a challenge, because what often stands out the most between the two are the similarities. I have found, through traveling to Japan, Canada, France, Germany, The Czech Republic, Bermuda, Iceland, England, and now Italy that the main commonality among every country is the simple fact that people are nice everywhere.

Sure, there are jerks, too, though maybe I'm less inclined to notice them when I can't understand what they're saying.

Mostly, though, people will find a way to help you. A smile and a (polite) hand gesture can go a long

Dessert!

 way. Making a good faith attempt to stumble through the local language helps, too. A lot. In fact, the single biggest tip I can offer for anyone traveling to a country where you don't know the language is to try to learn a few simple words before you go. "Hello," "Goodbye," and "Thank you," will get you far. "How much does that cost?" "Where is the bathroom?" and "I would like to have (for ordering food)" get you bonus points. Your pronunciation does not have to be perfect. Trust me.

But I digress. While in Italy, I discovered the phenomenon known as Italian Time. This was highlighted in my experience with the Three Main Differences of Eating in a Restaurant in Italy:

• How you are seated
• How you are charged
• How you get the check

How you are seated: 

When approaching an Italian restaurant, unless it's the kind of place with linen tablecloths that takes reservations, you simply catch the eye of a member of the waitstaff and gesture to a table. They nod. You sit. That's all there is to it. There's no, "Have you been here before?" chit chat. No waiting around to be seated in whatever section. Just sit down. And if you can't catch the eye of someone, sit anyway. They'll find you.

How you are charged: 

Italians don't tip. This felt weird until I realized that service is compensated, just in a different way. At Italian cafes, there is typically a bar and a seating area. If you order your coffee and treat and stand to eat it at the bar, you pay one (cheaper) price. If you choose to sit, your items cost a bit more. Menus typically list two sets of pricing so you can see at a glance how you will pay differently based

One of the best things I've ever eaten.

on whether or not you want table service. There is also usually a cover charge ("coperto") of about two euros or so per person. This covers the bread they put on table (whether or not you eat it), and helps offset the charge for service. Then, service proceeds as usual (until you get to the check; more on that in a minute).

I like this a lot. Servers deserved to be paid a living wage, and I like having the pricing set to accommodate that. If you don't want to pay for someone to bring you your food, stand at the bar or eat at home. Boom.

Other than that, throughout the meal, it's business as usual, only with better food than at home. I kid. But not really. Italian food tends to be fresher, with better ingredients. Sure, they use butter and salt in their cooking but the food doesn't seem drowned by it. Restaurant portions were bigger than I expected, but not as big as the behemoth plates we get in the States.

How you get the check: 

Here's where it gets interesting. Italian table service is very similar to the States in that a server comes over, greets you, and asks what you would like to drink. They do charge for water, but I don't mind because you get good quality bottled water for cheap and it's delightful. I tended to ask for "frizzante" rather than "naturale" water (carbonated rather than still) because it felt more elegant. Plus, a euro fifty (little less than two dollars) for a liter of sparkling water is cheap, compared to what we would pay for a bottle of Perrier at home.

Everything else feels similar. You give your order ("Prendo pasta a la carbonara, per favore..." or if you want to get really fancy, "Io vorrei pasta a la carbonara..."), your food comes (quickly), and you eat yourself into a pasta coma of carb-heavy goodness.

Then, coffee, which, unless you ask for an "Americano" (do not do this; there should be a rule against

Cafe freddo

drinking American-style coffee in Italy), you get a shot of espresso. Once I figured out how to order it, I asked for a Cafe Freddo (iced coffee), which was delightful and not at all the watered down, overdone mess we get in the States. On rare occasion, usually in the morning when I wanted a little more of something in my stomach, I ordered a cappuccino.

You finish your coffee and then ... nothing. Radio silence. At the nicer places, the server might say, "Okay, then, enjoy the table!" and wander off, leaving you to feel free to stay at that table all night long, if you wish. With most places, the servers simply walk away. Period.

This was nice when I didn't have anywhere to be, or when I wanted to enjoy the view, but sometimes, I was ready to leave, and couldn't, because I couldn't find the darn waiter to pay the check. At one place, I had done a really lovely yet very long walk that took most of the afternoon, my friend and I wolfed our food, and then we were ready to get out of there, yet it took forever to get that waiter's eye. When we did, I said, "Il conto, per favore," and he smiled, and nodded, and then did 15 other things for a while, then took a nap, apparently, until I asked again. Finally, we were able to pay and leave.

A few days later, we had lunch at a great cafe neat the Duomo. The location was beautiful, the food was fantastic, I enjoyed my cafe freddo, I asked for the check, the waitress nodded...and then did lots of other things. For an hour.

That's right. An hour. We kept trying to flag her down, without success. The Italian women at the table next to use overheard us talking and said they would help. They called over a different waiter, said some things in Italian, he nodded and hurried off. Still no check. The ladies shrugged. "This is Italy," she said. "We deal with this all the time. You just have to accept it."

Finally, the man came back with the check. Except, it wasn't our check. So we had to send him off

You pay extra for the finery, and I am okay with that.

again. Eventually, he came back with the correct check, it took another 15 minutes for him to run and get his little handheld credit card machine and come back to accept payment, and finally - finally! - we were free!

Every since that lunch, I have worked on internalizing the concept of Italian Time. This was actually helpful once I got back to my job in the States. No need to stress about getting caught up on emails; I'm on Italian Time! Everything gets done when it needs to. Sit back and accept it. That's just the way it is.