Forsooth, Delta, though I have loved thee in the past, today I do not love thee; let me count the ways:
--Thy decision to delay our flight on the tarmac in Florence for 45 minutes for "flow control" in Atlanta and then, after our 42 minute flight, to delay us in the air for another 40 minutes did not fill my heart with joy.
--Even though thou madest a good decision to hire Steve, the gay (as in chatty and, well, gay) flight attendant for the trip from Florence and even though he slew the mighty wasp inside the cabin armed with nothing more than a SkyMall magazine, his heroics alone were not enough to compensate us for all the delays.
--The speed, or should I say lack of speed with which you returned our gate checked stroller tried my patience, particularly given that our connection was now boarding even as we waited, because of all the afore lamented delays.
--The employee who met us after we raced to our gate and told us the gate was closed even though the plane was sitting there and the pilot had his window open and we could see our very own luggage making the flight that we were prevented from reaching added insult to our injury.
--The information that we had been rebooked for another flight at 7:00am, 12 hours later, made me want to throw down more than a proverbial gauntlet and call thee to arms post haste.
--The pitiful offer of the chance to get on the stand-by list of a flight leaving in three hours was, again, most insulting.
--Let me not even discuss the anxious waiting to be assigned a seat on a flight that had 31 people on the standby list...it is too painful.
--There does exist a special kind of hell on the last row of a 44 row plane, when the seats do not recline, the air conditioner is not working for the entire flight, the galley light stays on the entire time, and the captain is in a chatty and VERY LOUD mood.
--And, finally, when we arrived in SLC, we knew our bags were already there, having seen them loaded onto the flight we were not allowed to board, and, yet, when we asked at baggage claim, no one knew if they had been unloaded or not. Sending the husband off to check, then confirming with another agent that, in fact, the bags were most likely NOT unloaded, then sitting there, doing nothing, and responding with "well, I'm waiting for your husband to come back to make sure" may have SEEMED efficient, but really, it was just lazy.
--Subsequently letting me and my stroller and baby into the baggage room and then leaving us there alone necessitated my leaving my child in the room alone while I hauled a bag out in hopes of finding my husband walking by all unawares. I did pass two other agents, one who glanced up at me and then ignore me entirely, another who tried to close the exit door on my while I was in the doorway, which I found to be most rude.
In short, or long, as the case may be, whilst Delta was once my most beloved of all the airlines, you have now slipped precipitously in my esteem. The rift between us may be permanent, I'm afraid. But then, clearly, you don't care about that at all, now do you?