You know when you think you can let something slide, and then 2 months later you're still thinking about it. That's one of these stories.

Flight: AC 80 (YYZ-LIM) Friday, October 1st, 2010.
Cabin: Economy - 12H (originally)...then to 13C.
Status: AC Elite

I board the plane, and in my seat is the FA (this always bodes well, doesn’t it!?). I'm asked if I'm sitting with someone else (I'm not), and am then told that they want me to swap seats. I look over, and there's a man holding an infant sat in 12E. Apparently, when he called up the folks at AC Reservations to request the seat with the bassinet, they kindly put him in 12E on the 767 and told him that was the correct seat (which, for those unfamiliar with the Economy cabin, is the middle f**kin seat in the bulk-head, and does not contain a bassinet). Strike Numero Uno.

In fairness to the FA, he was originally being proactive in telling me they had a problem (my initial response was to put the guy with the baby in Executive First, but that's me being nice and trying to compensate for the AC Reservations' balls-up). However, the FA then vanished like a virgin on prom night and spent the rest of the time (as passengers were boarding) to hang coats in the executive cabin. Now, I know that in Executive First, for the price they're paying, anything short of a happy-ending hand-job is unacceptable, but for the love of Christ there's no need to bail right away and then never return. Telling me there's a problem does not fix the problem. Strike Numero Dos.

Throughout the boarding process, the plane is filling up with passengers, and I'm still standing there waiting to get shuffled, looking around for empty seats (while are going lik arent), to then see a couple in row 13 get moved by our friendly FA to Executive Class. Bingo, looks like we have 2 empty seats for me and the newly-arrived passenger in 12K to whom I've kindly explained the situation. Still no sign of the FA, but I've lost hope on this guy as clearly buffing shoes in Executive First is probably earning him a lot more than helping us peons out in the back of the bus. Finally, one of the gate agents comes on board, sees me standing there awkwardly, asks if there's a problem (famous last words) to which I kindly (and I mean kindly - she was actually helpful) explain the situation. Lo-and-behold, me and Diego move over to Row 13A and 13C, and we leave dad-and-infant to have the comfort of 12H and K combined.

In all of this, the FA never came back to check if we had resolved the issue. He simply bailed. Like a giant sissyboy. We're talking white-flag, I-don’t-do-kids bailed. Thankfully we had enough brain cells to realise that he'd never get back to us, so were left to sort it out ourselves, like the good Canadians that we are.

The Good Part
One of the wheels off the luggage broke on the way back from South America, and AC had it repaired and returned in less than 5 days. Kudos to you, Customer Service!