Legitimate?

Last Tuesday, I was in a hotel in Frankfurt, Germany, waiting for my flight back to the States when I got a message on my Delta app that my flight had been canceled. It could be 48 hours before I could fly out. Or longer.

My options included returning to Jena, then traveling back to Frankfurt (a four-hour trip, minimum); staying in a Frankfurt hotel for two days (not inexpensive); or trying to rebook given that 10,000 flights had been canceled stateside because of snowstorms. Rather going to the Delta app to rebook, which was Delta’s advice (mistake number one), I googled the Delta phone number on my computer (which still had some battery power). Then I called ‘Delta.’

My call was answered almost immediately. Really. That seemed a little suspicious to me, but not suspicious enough to dig deeper.

“Delta Airlines,” the man with a heavy accent said. Okay, accents mean nothing. I did hear some people talking in the background. So what? 

I explained my predicament and the man said he could help me. He asked for my ticket number which is what airlines do. Then he asked for my name. Red flag time: when an airline has your reservation, they can pull up your name. But I didn’t know this because I had not talked to an airline in such a long time. (I understood this when I got back to the States because every time I called Delta, Delta responded with “Patricia?” and some version of How can I help you?). In that Frankfurt hotel, I did not question that why ‘Delta’ did not know my name.

The man on the phone assured me he was ‘Delta.’ More than once. After giving him my personal information, he gave me an option to fly out the next day, an hour later than my canceled flight, but with a stop in between. I asked him to look for some other flights: with the extra stop I would not make my bus from Port Authority to Ithaca – I’d have to wait at JFK for ten hours. The ‘Delta rep’ mumbled, used some grammatically incorrect English, put me on hold, and said, “I have other flights, but they are fifteen hours. Seventeen hours long.”

He paused. “And we have to charge you. Let’s see. Oh…. that flight now is over 2,000 dollars, oh . . . 3,000 dollars. But we can give you a special deal: 400 dollars.”

“But you canceled my flight,” I said. “I shouldn’t have to pay anything.”

Of course I didn’t want to pay 400 dollars, but if I stayed in Frankfurt an extra two days, that also would be costly, and I could run out of books to read. And there was no guarantee I’d get out in two days. The weather could turn again. Based on what I had heard about Southwest Airlines, charging people for flights Southwest bailed on during the last year’s chaotic holiday mess, this seemed – note seemed -- legit. Damn, I thought: this is how airlines are doing business now? First they charge you for bringing on a bag (not Delta, but Jet Blue and Allegiant do this), and then they charge you for changing a flight that they cancelled.     

“That’s what it costs,” the man said.

I asked if he was Delta, again, and he said, “Yes, this is Delta.”

I agreed to the costs and gave him my credit card information.

“With taxes,” he said. “That comes to 600 dollars.”

Six hundred dollars. Exactly? My BS detector engaged fully now. But he had all my information. So I agreed.

Then I asked about being re-routed to Syracuse to avoid the ten-hour wait at JFK, the four-hour bus ride to Binghamton, and because the bus did not go to Ithaca on Wednesdays or Thursdays, the hour car ride from Binghamton to Ithaca.

“To Syracuse? That’s too complicated,” he said. Another red flag. Would an airline really say that? I hemmed and hawed, and complained again, and he said, aggressively, “We can undo everything.”

But he had all my information.    

After everything was complete, and I saw that my ticket had been changed, I got a text message from him, that said I agreed to pay the 600 dollars. I had never had an airline text me. But maybe this was how things were done now? After I agreed, the person responded back, FlightHubDeal. What happened to Delta?

This isn’t right, but I had my ticket, and they had all my information, and I thought, I’ll wait until I am back in the States, and then I’ll complain. They had changed my ticket once, they could change it again.

At this point, I wasn’t sure that I could prove to Delta that I was me.

When I got to the Frankfurt airport the next morning, I went to a Delta desk and changed my flight to Syracuse. It took less than a minute. But I was still worried about discussing what had happened last night; I thought if I complain now, Delta might cancel my booking. They were so nasty to me on the phone yesterday. They had all the power. Maybe they had some agreement with this FlightHubDeal?

When I got on the plane, I was confused again, because there were so many empty seats on the plane. It wasn’t as though Delta was booked solid.   

When I got to the Detroit airport, and I was exuberantly happy to be back in the States, I found a Delta Help Desk right away and complained to two employees about the extra 600-dollar charge. They looked me and shrugged, then pulled up my ticket.

“We wouldn’t charge you for a flight that we canceled,” one of them said. “And I don’t see that 600-dollar charge here. Did you book with us?”

“Yes,” I said. I knew enough not to book with third-party businesses that offered deals. If your flight is canceled, you are at the mercy of these third-party vendors who have no conscience. You think they’re going to give you a free ticket?

Delta gave me a deep red index card with a phone number on the back. I called the number. The Delta employee I talked to was professional and knowledgeable, and assured me: “We would not charge you.”

My brain was getting foggy – I was still on German time, and it was midnight, hours past my bedtime – but I was mad. So I checked my bank statement: Delta had not charged me. FlightHubDeal had. Six-hundred dollars for a twenty-minute phone call. They charged me for going online and changing my reservation. Of course FlightHubDeal could do this: they had had all my information.

Now they had not only impersonated Delta, but they had impersonated me.

I immediately called my credit card company – which is linked to my bank – and explained the situation. I canceled my card and filed fraud charges. I called Delta and filled out more paperwork online. The Delta rep warned me about look-a-like Delta sites, which I knew about. She also suggested I contact my local law enforcement agency.

I did check my bank statement this morning. Six hundred dollars was credited back to my account; now, with paperwork filed, the money won’t go to FHD unless they ask for it, and then they’d would need to protest the fraud charge. My guess is that it will cost them more in time and fees than 600 dollars and they won’t bother.  

So is FlightHubDeal a scam? When they misrepresented themselves as a legitimate airline and impersonated me? They most certainly are. This is what I found on the internet from Trip Advisor: “Flighthub IS a scam. Not a full out scam, they are a registered company, but they operate in the scammiest way possible.” A scam is a scam: there is no such thing as a partial scam. There were also stories on Reddit describing how people were tricked and lost money, and similarly, stories from the Better Business Bureau site.     

Still, another internet site declared: “Based on extensive research and user reviews, FlightHubDeal is considered a legitimate travel booking site with a mixed reputation.”

Really? That’s putting it mildly. I don’t know who wrote that review, but I did read other reviews asserting FHD’s legitimacy.

I believe these deceitful individuals preying on trusting people will employ even more dishonest and underhanded tactics to make easy, fast money. Be forewarned. Listen to your BS detector.  Be critical.