The following was the real story, before Qantas Group threatened to pull their advertising for a week and give it to a rival newspaper.
"Arriving at the airport with my home-printed ticket in hand, I joined the long queue of travellers wanting to check in. For some reason I thought the online check-in would help me skip most of this mess, but I continued along my merry way. The line seemed to take an eternity to move along, mostly due to the Katies and Brittanys of the world not having their paperwork ready for the check-in staff despite spending the last twenty minutes in line. Seems like a discussion about Face book tagging was more important.
I had finally made it to the home stretch when it become apparent the gossiping girls in line were not the only ones holding things up. For a laugh I started my stopwatch and was amazed that two check-in staff spent 2 mins and 34 seconds chatting before calling up the next customer. The chatter wasn't about operational matters - that was obviously when the words "that's hot" finished about three sentences.
"Now it was my turn. I did the right thing and was on the look out for my staff member - a simply chore that seems to escape most people waiting in line. "Where to?" Wow, that was strange. No 'hello sir, how are you? Where abouts are you off to today?'. I handed over my printed boarding pass and placed my luggage on the belt. "Wrong way around!" So I turned it around. "No! The other way". I finally got it right on the third go. "You didn't select checked baggage, you'll have to pay an additional $30 to check your baggage". Argh! Ok, I guess that was my fault when I booked online. "And your bag weights 20.3 kg - there will be a weight surcharge fee." Damn, more money to hand over. I guess I should have put more stuff in my carry on baggage.
Off to security screening I go. As per usual I pick the wrong line and am stuck behind Cheryl as she tries to put all of her carry on baggage through the small x-ray machine. If you ask me, her luggage won't fit in that tiny little rack you see at the front counter, but I'll mind my business. I'm further held up when she fails the metal detector. Probably all of those piercings. Nope, turns out to be the iphone still stuck down her bra. Finally my bag makes it through and I am stopped for a routine explosive test. I'm already being scanned before the sentence about my rights has been explained, but that's an argument for another day. I'm here to review Jetstar.
Turns out I'm not packing too much heat and I make my way to the gate. There's Cheryl again, sitting at my gate. Seems to be joined by her boyfriend. He's dressed in his finest thongs and Holden Racing team shirt. Did I mention the Bundy Rum faded black cap? Makes me wonder why I bothered to dress up. What happened to the romance of flying when people would arrive dressed well? I guess this is Jetstar - we're only paying $29 to Sydney. Well, before all of those check-in charges (and taxes) anyway. And why was I slugged a fuel surcharge? Isn't that just part of the cost of the flight? Anyway, I digress.
I'm stuck watching Cheryl and Stevo smash four tins of XXXX Gold and a take-away pizza as my flight delays increase from 20 minutes to 75 minutes. I guess I can't blame ATC delays or the weather on Jetstar, but I can't help but wonder whether 20 minute gate turn around times are realistic.
The plane arrives and the elderly, disabled and those travelling with children are invited first. It seems most people on my flight must be disabled as they don't appear to be children or elderly, but they jump up immediately and start pushing forward the line. I wait patiently to be called and find myself number 86 in line. At least the days of 'every man for himself' when boarding are over. I have fond memories of the Jetstar Avalon terminal when the airline first started.
Getting to my seat takes a long time as Cheryl tries to fit all of her carry on baggage in the overhead lockers. She seems oblivious to the delay she is causing behind her. I arrive at my row to find someone sitting in my seat and I have a rather long discussion about who should be sitting where. The cabin crew seem unwilling to help out. I finally convince the passenger to move and I squeeze my way past the young, ipod listening Latisha. I can hear every lousy Katie Perry beat coming from Latisha’s headphones. Seems like common courtesy is running low within the passenger group on this flight.
The cabin crew appear tired. I can't help but wonder why when their CEO said the other day that the only work 27 hours a week. The safety briefing lacks energy and I wonder how I will make it past Cheryl if she becomes stuck in the emergency exit row. I flick through an inflight magazine. Although there is 100 pages of light entertainment, the pages have dog ears, some are sticky, and someone has already completed my Sudoku puzzle.
The short flight takes an age as my 6 foot 3 inch body struggles in the cramped seats. At least we are not all standing up - I wouldn't put it past Jetstar to introduce this seating arrangement soon. The menu choice are pretty average but I decide to go for a packet of Nobby's Nut - you know, for that romantic feel of flying (when they were handed out for free!). It takes forever for the cabin crew to make it down to row 26 but my moment has arrived. I can taste the nuts already! "Anything from the menu?" Is asked so quickly the crew member has gone past me before I could even say yes. A little bit of eye contact could have helped her serve me. I press the service button, but it takes a long time for help to arrive. I then get a sigh and disgusted look of 'well why didn't you order when we went past ten minutes ago?'.
We start our descent and about eight babies start crying. All the people travelling for business wish their employers would fork out some more money so they could fly on Qantas instead. Come to think of it, that's how I feel as well. The cabin crew pass quickly down the aisle, again failing to make eye contact, therefore I'm left holding my nut bag until I disembark. I put it in the seat pocket for me to collect late, but discover at least nine previous passengers thought the same thing and forgot.
The landing is hard leaving me with a sore neck. Turns out an 18-year old cadet was flying this leg as I pass the flight deck. Why didn't I disembark using the rear stairs? Not sure, sounds like they didn't have enough for us to use.
Offloading baggage takes too long as I notice the Virgin passengers come and go with their newly collected bags. Overall, the flight has been very poor, but I should have known this would happen when I paid $29 for my ticket. I go to jump in the cab, only to have Cheryl and Stevo skip the queue and take the last one. Now I must wait for a cab.
I guess the positive thing is I can now log in to th Qantas Frequent Flyer website and claim some points! Sure, they won't be much, but it all adds up, right? Wrong! My fair doesn't count, despite JQ being a partner.
Overall, I give them one (J) star out of five.”