Downgraded from economy class (an Air Canada horror story)

This is a bit of a rant about Air Canada. Because of my trip to Australia last year, Air Canada gave me a book of upgrade coupons. Since it was Air Canada, I fully expected the coupons to be invalid and completely worthless under normal circumstances. So I was pleasantly surprised yesterday when I was upgraded from economy to executive class for the first leg (Ottawa to Toronto) of my 6:00 am flight to Mexico City. It was pretty exciting, being my first time among the privileged few. I savoured the larger seat, the leg room (even though I'm short) and the fresh orange juice, yoghurt and fruit.

I didn't really expect to be upgraded again for my flight from Toronto to Mexico City, but I certainly didn't expect I'd end up where I did. In Toronto, I joined the general queue to board the aircraft. When I handed my passport and e-ticket to the Air Canada attendant, he scanned the ticket, frowned, and then kept typing and sighing. He then handed my ticket to another woman who said, "Oh, that's her." This isn't good, I thought. The Air Canada woman explained: "We really tried to upgrade you but there was a problem and we couldn't, but by that time we had given away your original seat. So we've downgraded you."

I didn't even know such a thing was possible. What's lower than economy? Steerage?

"What does that mean?" I asked. "Do I still have a seat?" "Oh, yes," she said, "but now it's an aisle seat in the last row." I had paid an extra $20.00 for window seats -- I always travel in window seats.

What's so much worse than seat 12A (window)? Thanks to Air Canada's new downgrading program (pay $20 to choose your seat, be tempted with an upgrade, lose your original seat), I now know the answer: seat 29C (aisle). I pushed my way to the back of the aircraft and to my irritation found that 29C is actually a crew seat. That can't recline. And that is right next to the bathrooms.

To make matters more surreal, for some reason my presence in Downgrade Section upset the flight crew. The flight attendants were annoyed that I got their seat, apparently believing that I had somehow demanded this prime location. Demanded their seat? Like any sane Canadian I didn't even really want to be on their plane. If I had had an option I would have chosen a Soviet-era Aeroflot flight over Canada's national airliner.

This isn't to say it wasn't an educational experience, it was just I learned some things I didn't really want to know. When you're sitting with the blue-noses in Economy class you don't think much about airplane bathrooms. I, for one, had no idea that so many people continue to ignore their parents' advice to go before you leave home. As soon as the pilot turned off the seatbelt sign, the stampede for the bathrooms began and didn't let up for the entire flight. Almost immediately, the area around 29C (so prized by a certain type of flight attendant) was enveloped by the not-so-fragrant odours of human sewage -- unfiltered even by the sickly chemical smell that would be familiar to anyone who's ever taken a long-distance bus trip. At some points even the flight attendants were gagging. Throughout the five-hour flight, there was a constant stream of people bumping my seat in their haste to get to the bathroom. This crowd was exacerbated by the flight attendants shoving the drink carts through the throng.

I also learned quite a bit about an Air Canada flight attendant's duties. When they're not expressing barely concealed envy and contempt for the fortunate few in Downgrade Class, they seem to spend most of their time cursing the various storage units that won't properly open, broken chairs and roast-beef sandwich shortages. Actually, I guess this prickly attitude won't come as a surprise to anyone who's ever tried to complain about Air Canada's subpar customer service (their numbers are legion).

In the time-honoured retail-industry tradition that the flight attendant is always right, they even managed to get my seat in the end. Near the end of the flight, as I was attempting to escape my odoriferous present through the magic of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince: The Motion Picture, a flight attendant told me that I would have to give up my seat to a crew member. But where would I go? I was half-expecting to be told, "We're just over Mexico City, here's a parachute," before being herded toward the back exit and charged a $20 early-exit fee.

Instead (fortunately or unfortunately, I'm not sure), they moved me to the middle seat (29B, for those of you keeping track at home). But there was already a guy sitting there, who they moved -- I am not making this up -- to an empty seat... in economy class.

I can't wait for the flight back. Maybe I'll get to see where they stow the animals.