3 Philly folks vent about lousy customer service

I DIDN'T NEED to watch any NCAA games to experience March Madness this week. All I had to do was answer my phone and there the madness was, courtesy of folks venting about lousy customer service.

Take Karen Watson, a SEPTA secretary and a caring daughter to her mom, Gloria Morgan, who has multiple sclerosis.

Last April, Watson checked Morgan into a Philly nursing home for nine days of physical therapy and treatment for dehydration. When Watson handled Morgan's admissions paperwork, she mistakenly signed a form instructing Social Security to mail her mom's monthly checks to the nursing home instead of depositing them directly into Morgan's bank account, as they had been doing.

When Watson realized the error, she notified Social Security, but not before the agency sent Morgan's next check to the nursing home. The nursing home returned it to Social Security, and the payment eventually made it into her mother's account.

Last August, Watson reviewed her mom's bank records and realized that Social Security never deposited July's payment. She contacted Social Security and was told a check had been sent to the nursing home. The nursing home staff confirmed that it had arrived and that they had returned it. But Social Security said it never received the returned check.

"They told me the issue was between me and the nursing home," says Watson. "They even implied the home kept the money."

You're probably wondering, "Can't Social Security review its records to see if the check was cashed? If it wasn't, can't they cancel it and deposit a new payment into Morgan's account?"

Oh, my friends, were it only that simple.

Watson asked the same questions and was told to visit the Social Security office on West Chelten Avenue with her mother. They were told the matter would be handled. It wasn't. They returned. It still wasn't. And so it went for seven dumb months, Watson returning every few weeks, getting conflicting answers each time.

Getting nowhere, basically.

Finally, Watson called me, and I called Social Security's public-affairs officer, Richard Gaudiosi. In less than 24 hours, Watson's problem was straightened out.

Watson is grateful but appalled by the deplorable customer service she and her mom received at the Chelten Avenue office.

"I think they thought we'd just go away. But they don't know me and my family. We are crazy," she says, "and I am a mama's girl; I love that woman. Remember Oprah Winfrey as crazy Sophia in The Color Purple? That's me when it comes to looking out for my mother."

The second installment of March madness stars Liz Sher. She's director of religious education at Gwynedd Mercy Academy elementary school. She's also, like, the best aunt in the world.

Last Saturday, she boarded a 9:30 a.m. flight to Raleigh, N.C., flown by Republic Airlines (a subcontractor for American Airlines). She was to visit her niece, who has three kids under 3 years old. Her niece's husband is an Army physician, based at Fort Bragg, and he's on call most weekends. So Sher often flies down to pitch in with the wee ones.

"I come from a big family," says Sher. "We help each other out."

That morning at 9:30, as she sat on the plane awaiting takeoff, the pilot announced a 10-minute delay while they waited for the copilot to arrive. At 9:50 a.m., the pilot announced that the tardy copilot, who'd flown in that morning, was at the airport and "as eager as you are to get to Raleigh."

A few minutes later, the pilot left the cockpit, retrieved his luggage from an overhead bin, and skedaddled. At 10 a.m., an attendant announced that the flight was canceled.

By the time Sher made it to the American Airlines customer-service desk, the next Raleigh flight had filled and she got conflicting info about alternatives. Then, a customer-service rep assured her that standby seats would be available on a 4 p.m. Raleigh flight.

"But what if that flight is full, too?" she asked.

"You look like a worrier to me," the rep chided her. "You are definitely getting on that flight!"

So of course the plane filled up before Sher could board.

Another flight was offered, this one at 6 p.m. But Sher didn't trust she'd make that one, either. Pooped and disappointed, she decided to scrap the trip. She asked the customer-service rep, "I can get my money back, right?"

No, the woman told her, because Sher had purchased a nonrefundable ticket. For a $200 fee, though, she could "change" her $226.20 flight to a future date.

Which just sounds insane.

When Sher argued that it wasn't her fault that Republic canceled the flight, she was advised to write a letter of complaint.

"I thought, 'I'm never getting my money back,' " says Sher.

Unbeknownst to her, her flight was one of seven canceled that morning, right around the time that a Republic pilot reported that his satchel - which he had left unattended in a men's room - had been stolen. It contained the pilot's legally authorized gun.

By 11 a.m., security had found the pilot's satchel (allegedly taken by a janitor); the gun was still inside. But by then the travel plans of 2,693 passengers had been delayed during the search.

Back home, when Sher used American Airlines' online form to request a refund for a canceled flight, she was instructed to insert the flight number. When she did, up popped a message saying the flight never existed. She could proceed no further.

Oh, for God's sake.

On Sher's behalf, I called Victoria Lupica, an American Airlines spokeswoman. Lupica said that the company's policies on nonrefundable tickets are "very flexible," especially in situations as unusual as last Saturday's.

"We want to work this out," she said, regarding Sher.

As they should. American Airlines' own website says that nonrefundable tickets can be refunded "when we make a schedule change that results in a change of 61 minutes or more."

So why didn't American's own customer-service rep know that?

It's madness, I tell you!

Last week's final hair-puller comes from a retired West Philly couple who don't want me to use their name, because a family member works for the city and they fear blowback. I'd call them paranoid, but they're already victims of bureaucratic blowback.

So who am I to judge?

On Halloween night, the couple were slapped with a $301 ticket from the Philadelphia Parking Authority for parking in a handicapped spot in front of 4515 Locust St. Which is precisely where they were parked.

Except the block's handicapped signs are in front of 4513, not 4515. So they snapped photos of where their car was parked and appealed the violation online.

The photos were not clear, so the couple lost the appeal. They tried again, this time in person, and were again denied. They are now appealing to Common Pleas Court - for a filing fee of $189 - to get a third opinion.

They asked for my help, so I talked to City Hall spokesman Mike Dunn. He said that the data base of handicapped permits shows that 4515 is indeed a handicapped parking spot and the violation indicated the couple's car was in front of 4515.

But guess what? The signs are in front of 4513, not 4515. So what's the deal?

"If only someone from the PPA would come out here and look at these signs," says the husband. "Because we can't afford a $301 ticket, or $189 to get rid of it."

March madness is in full swing, people. And it's making a chump of April Fools' Day.

polaner@phillynews.com

215-854-2217 @RonniePhilly