Class action
The usual post, then: a couple of bills, a doctor’s appointment and an unsolicited claim form from California to take part in a class action suit against British Airways. Wait, what?
I am indeed eligible to claim my fuel surcharge, worth—like everyone else’s—between £2 and £10. If I lived in the States and did not bother to collect, the money would go to this admittedly carbon-unfriendly children’s charity, but, as it says up there, in Britain BA and Virgin get to keep any unclaimed money. This displeases me. I am therefore honour bound to do my bit and chip in with the class action. It means I have to go and dig out records of a flight I booked three years ago, but even I should be able to manage that in time: the letter informs me the deadline for getting in touch is December 2012. To arms!
I am indeed eligible to claim my fuel surcharge, worth—like everyone else’s—between £2 and £10. If I lived in the States and did not bother to collect, the money would go to this admittedly carbon-unfriendly children’s charity, but, as it says up there, in Britain BA and Virgin get to keep any unclaimed money. This displeases me. I am therefore honour bound to do my bit and chip in with the class action. It means I have to go and dig out records of a flight I booked three years ago, but even I should be able to manage that in time: the letter informs me the deadline for getting in touch is December 2012. To arms!