When James is on his way home after a swimming competition in London, all he wants is to sleep on the flight. But that’s the last thing on the agenda because sitting next to him is a woman who only wants to cause trouble. Eight hours later, the captain teaches her a lesson.
I was already prepared for the flight. I knew that it was going to be a long one. I mean, eight hours from London to New York was not going to be easy, but I had my earplugs, sleeping pills, and a few snacks to keep me going.
I had just wrapped up a grueling swimming competition, and every muscle in my body was crying for some much-needed rest. I was in the middle seat, which wasn’t ideal for my height, but I was too tired to care. The woman next to me, at the window, seemed just as wiped out as I was, and I could see her eyes drooping before we took off.
We exchanged a weary smile before settling into our seats.
It’s okay, James, I thought to myself. You’ll sleep through it all.
But then there was the woman who was going to be the cause of absolute mayhem and discomfort for the next eight hours.
From the moment she sat down next to me, I sensed that she was going to be trouble. She was huffing and puffing and shifting around like she’d been assigned to a seat in the luggage compartment instead of economy.
“Oh boy,” the window-seat woman sighed.
Aisle-seat woman, let’s call her Karen, kept eyeing me up and down, her mouth twisting into a frown.
Look, I’m a tall guy at six foot two. I was used to getting uncomfortable stares in airplanes, but it wasn’t my fault.
The first sign of trouble came when the plane took off. Karen pressed the call button, not once like any rational person, but three times in a row, like she was setting off an alarm.
I almost expected an alarm to sound off in the airplane.
“Ma’am,” the flight attendant asked when we had reached cruising altitude, “how can I help you?”
“This seat is unacceptable!” Karen snapped. Her voice was loud enough to draw attention from the rows around us.
“I’m cramped, and look at these two… people! They’re practically spilling over into my space.”
She shot a look at me, then at the woman at the window, who was staring straight ahead, pretending not to notice.
“I’m sorry, but we’re fully booked today,” the flight attendant replied. “There’s nowhere else for you to move.”
“You mean that there’s not one seat available on this flight? What about business class? Nothing?” she demanded.
“No, ma’am,” the flight attendant said. “There’s nothing available.”
“Then I want them moved,” Karen declared, louder this time. “I paid for this seat just like everyone else here, and it’s not fair that I have to be squished next to them. I can’t even open a packet of chips without bumping into this guy.”
For emphasis, she elbowed me in the arm.
I glanced over at the woman in the window seat, who looked on the verge of tears. My patience was wearing thin, too, and I couldn’t handle this woman when my energy tank was empty.
“Ma’am,” I said, keeping my voice as calm as I could, “we’re all just trying to get through this flight and get to our destinations. There’s really nothing wrong with the seating arrangements here.”
“Nothing wrong?” Karen barked. “Are you kidding me? Are you blind?”
She continued her rant for what felt like hours. And it was clear she wasn’t going to drop it. I tried to ignore her, but she kept shifting in her seat, kicking my legs, and continuously elbowing my arm.
By the fourth hour, I was cranky and exhausted beyond any other moment in my life. I was done.
“Look,” I said, turning to her as the flight attendant wheeled a cart down the aisle, “we can keep this up for the rest of the flight, or we can try and make the best of a bad situation. Why don’t you watch something on the screen? There are some pretty good movies here.”
But she wasn’t having it at all.
“Why don’t you tell her to go on a diet? And why don’t you learn to book seats that have space for your gigantic legs? Why do you both insist on making my life hell?” Karen hissed.
And the entire time we had been talking, Karen was busy pressing the call button.
I felt my blood boil and watched as the woman sitting next to the window tried to make herself as small as possible.
I could see the flight attendants murmuring amongst themselves, giving Karen dirty looks. If I’m being honest, I was just hoping that one of them would slip her a sedative or something. Finally, a flight attendant came over, looking as upset as I was.
“Ma’am, if you don’t calm down, we’re going to have to ask you to stay seated and not press the call button again, not unless it’s an actual emergency.”
“Oh, this is an emergency!” she shouted. “It’s a human rights violation! My rights are being violated, and everyone is just ignoring that!”
The rest of the flight went on like this, with Karen sighing dramatically, muttering under her breath, and generally making everyone around us miserable.
I just kept my head down and tried to focus on the tiny screen in front of me, tracking our progress home.
When we finally landed, I couldn’t have been any happier if I tried. This nightmare was almost over.
But then, as soon as the wheels touched down, Karen was out of her seat, darting up the aisle as if she was about to miss her connecting flight to Mars. The seatbelt sign was still on, and everyone was sitting patiently, waiting for it to turn off.
But not Karen. No, she was ignoring all the calls from the flight attendants, not even looking back. Soon, she was standing right next to the curtain separating the business-class seats from economy.
The rest of us just watched, too exhausted and frustrated to react.
Then came the captain’s voice over the intercom:
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to New York! We have a special guest onboard today.”
There was a collective groan. What now? Were we supposed to sit there for longer?
“We ask that everyone remain seated as I make my way through the cabin to greet this very special passenger.”
Karen perked up for some reason, her shoulders straightening like she’d just been announced as Miss Universe. She looked around with a self-satisfied smile, as if expecting everyone to applaud her.
When the captain came out of the cockpit, we saw a middle-aged man with a calm demeanor and a tired smile. As he saw Karen, he paused.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said. “I need to get past you to greet our special guest.”
“Oh,” she said, looking surprised. “Of course.”
He continued to make her step back down the aisle until they were almost to our row. It was priceless because although she was complying with him, the confusion growing on her face was clear.
“Maybe you should sit down in your seat,” he said.
The rest of us were watching in stunned silence, catching on to what he was doing. I could feel a smile tugging at my lips. The woman next to me was grinning, too.
Finally, the captain stopped at our row, forcing Karen to move into the row and stand at her seat.
The captain looked up at the seat numbers and grinned to himself before speaking.
“Ah, here we are,” he said, his voice booming through the cabin. “Ladies and gentlemen, our special guest is sitting right here in seat 42C. Can we all give her a round of applause?”
For a moment, there was silence. Then someone started clapping, followed by another, and another. Before long, the whole plane erupted into laughter and applause.
The woman’s face turned bright red. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. She just stood there, awkward and humiliated, as the captain took a slight bow and returned to the front.
“That,” I said, leaning back in my seat with a satisfied grin, “was worth the eight hours of this torture.”
The rest of us finally gathered our things and filed out, leaving her to stew in her own embarrassment.
“Jeez,” the woman next to me said. “I’m so glad this is over. I don’t ever want to see that woman again. Maybe we’ll end up next to each other on another flight. Without a Karen this time.”
“Here’s hoping,” I said, and for the first time since the flight started, I genuinely laughed.
What would you have done?
Spoiled Son Demands Money For Doing His Chores
A teenage boy demands that his parents pay him for doing his household chores and learns a painful lesson.
Wesley pushed his plate away. “I’m sick of meatloaf,” he complained. “Can’t you make anything else?” he asked his mother.
His mom looked at him indignantly. “We had roast chicken yesterday, hamburgers the day before, fish on Friday…”
Wesley sniffed derisively. “Yeah, yeah…Whatever!” and got up from the table.
“Wesley,” said his mother. “Please rinse your plate and put it in the dishwasher.”
“Why should I?” asked Wesley with typical teen arrogance. “I’m not your slave!”
Price list for chores | Source: AmoMedia.com
“My slave?” gasped his mother, “How can helping out make you my slave?”
“You don’t pay me, do you?” asked Wesley triumphantly. “Work without pay is slavery!”
Wesley’s dad frowned. “We support you, son,” he pointed out. “We house you, feed you, clothe you, and educate you…”
“That’s your duty and my right!” said Wesley. “And the law says you have to do it too, but I don’t have to do a thing!”
Wesley’s mom changed color. “I see! So we have duties and you have rights? Is that what you believe? What about your duty to help, to do your chores?”
“I’m not your slave,” repeated Wesley arrogantly. “If you want me to do things around here, you’d better pay me!”
A rebellious teen | Source: Pexels
Wesley’s mom jumped up but his father laid a gently restraining hand on her arm. “Pay you?” asked the father calmly. “And how much would you want for doing your chores?”
Wesley smiled triumphantly. “I’ve thought about that. For taking out the trash, $1, for washing dishes, $2, walking the dog, $4, cleaning my room, $5, and for cleaning the yard and mowing the lawn, $10. And you’re lucky I’m not demanding back pay.”
“Never!” cried Wesley’s mom angrily, but his father smiled calmly.
“I agree, Wesley. We will pay you for your work according to your demands. From now on you are a man, and we will treat you as such.”
Wesley puffed out his chest. “It’s about time you showed me some respect!” he crowed, and his mother opened her mouth to utter an angry retort. Once again Wesley’s dad smiled sweetly and restrained her.
Angry mother | Source: Unsplash
“Well, son, we start tomorrow, OK? I’ll put up a chart with your chores, and you write down what you’ve done on a daily basis. At the end of each week, say Friday afternoons, you get paid. What do you think?”
Wesley smiled happily. “That’s just perfect, dad!” Wesley walked out feeling on top of the world, without realizing he was about to have one of the worse weeks of his life.
A family works as a unit to make their collective lives better.
Wesley’s mom turned to his father. “Rick, how could you? He’s disrespectful, lazy, and greedy. He needs to learn,…”
Rick was smiling, and it wasn’t a nice smile. “Don’t worry, Martha, I have a plan, and our dear little boy is in for a very unpleasant experience. We’re going to teach him a lesson!”
The next day, Wesley walked into the house after football practice. It had been a long day at school and he was starving. “Hey mom!” he said. “What’s for dinner?”
Making a price list for his chores | Source: Pexels
“Turkey pot-pie with sweet potatoes and peas,” his mother said smiling sweetly.
“Cool!” cried Wesley. “I’m starving!” He saw that his dad had put up a chart on the wall and he immediately walked over and filled in walking the dog and cleaning his room. Later he would take out the trash.
That’s $9 already, though Wesley happily. I’m going to be rich! An hour later the scent of the food lured him down to the kitchen again where he found his mother and his father having dinner.
“Mom!” he cried indignantly. “You didn’t call me and I told you I was starving!”
Wesley’s mom smiled, and his father replied: “But Wesley, now that you are earning your own money, you will have to support yourself. If you want your mother to cook for you, you will have to pay her.”
“PAY HER?” screamed Wesley, “I’m not going to pay her!”
Walking the dog | Source: Unsplash
“Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to dip into your savings and order take away, then.” Wesley’s mother said still smiling.
“But…but…That’s not fair!” screamed Wesley and stormed upstairs. He ordered a pizza and it cost him $15 plus the delivery fee and the tip. Wesley worked out that he’d have to work three whole days to pay for that pizza. Being an independent man was expensive!
The next morning he came down for breakfast to find his mother making bacon and eggs and it smelled delicious. “Hi mom,” he said sweetly, “can I have my eggs over easy?”
“Sure, son!” she smiled. “That will be $6 for breakfast!”
“You’re charging me for breakfast?” cried Wesley angrily. “That’s not fair!”
But Wesley was in for another surprise. “Dad,” Wesley said, “our coach said we have to have new team jerseys and it will cost $69,99.”
Cleaning up his room | Source: Unsplash
“I see,” said his dad smiling. “But why are you telling me this?”
“Well, so you can give me the money!” said Wesley.
“But, Wesley,” his dad said, still smiling, “now that you’re earning money, you pay for your own expenses, and that includes clothes. I thought you knew that.”
“I don’t have that kind of money!” cried Wesley. “Where am I supposed to get $70?”
“Save it up from your what you earn, of course. It’s what we do!” dad said.
Wesley was stunned. Not only would he have to feed himself, but he’d also have to buy his own clothes? This wasn’t what he’d imagined when he’d demanded payment for his chores. “Well, OK,” he said. “Listen, dad, could you give me a ride to school? I’m a bit late…”
Nothing for dinner | Source: Unsplash
“Sure, son!” his dad smiled. “That will be $5.50.”
“You’re going to charge me for a ride to school?” Wesley gasped.
“Sure, after all, you’d pay a taxi, wouldn’t you?” his dad pointed out reasonably.
“But you’re my DAD!” cried Wesley. “And you’re charging me?”
“Oh Wesley, dear,” said his mother sweetly. “That reminds me! That will be $12.50 for washing and ironing your clothes.”
Wesley walked to school and was late. At lunchtime, he ate the cafeteria food with great gusto. He wondered when he’d taste his mother’s meatloaf again, or her mac and cheese, or her amazing Irish stew…
Boy runs out of money | Source: Unsplash
That night, Wesley came down at dinnertime looking despondent. His parents were having dinner and it smelled delicious. Wesley’s stomach rumbled. “Mom, dad?” he said quietly. “Can we talk?”
“Sure son,” said his father. “What’s on your mind?”
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry about that payment thing. I guess I never thought about everything you two do for me every day, and you never ask for anything in return.”
“We were hoping you’d realize that, Wesley. Everything we do for you, we do out of love, not obligation or duty,” his mother said.
“I know, mom, I’m so sorry,” Wesley whispered, and his eyes filled with tears.
Wesley’s dad got up and put his arms around him. “Son, in this family we do all we can to help each other, to make all our lives easier and better. That’s what being a family is all about, and we were hoping you’d understand that.”
Boy apologizes to his parents | Source: Pexels
Wesley’s mom gave him a hug too and said, “So how about some dinner? I made cottage pie and green beans — your favorite!”
That night, Wesley had one of the nicest evenings ever with his parents, and he learned one of the most important lessons: to appreciate all that his parents do for him and to do his part in helping his family.
What can we learn from this story?
1. Love doesn’t demand payment.
2. A family works as a unit to make their collective lives better.
Share this story with your friends. It might inspire people to share their own stories or to help someone else.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a spoiled rich girl who leaves her restaurant bill unpaid and learns a painful lesson.
This account is inspired by a subscriber’s story. All names have been changed to protect identities and ensure privacy. If you would like to share your story with us
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