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?
Boy Transforms Old Lady’s Home for Halloween – Her Heartwarming Reaction Will Melt You
Kevin had already made his Halloween costume with his mom and helped his dad decorate their house. He was excited about how much candy he would collect. But one house on his street didn’t have any decorations, and that kept bothering him. He didn’t understand why someone wouldn’t celebrate Halloween, so he thought maybe they needed help.
Halloween was almost here, and the entire neighborhood was buzzing with excitement. Every yard seemed to be trying to be the scariest one around.
There were pumpkins with big, jagged smiles all along the sidewalks. Plastic skeletons hung from tree branches, and fake cobwebs covered porches.
The air smelled like dry leaves and candy, and eleven-year-old Kevin could feel his heart racing with excitement.
Halloween was Kevin’s favorite day of the year, a time when anyone could be whatever they wanted. He loved how everything changed for that one magical night.
As he walked down the street, he smiled, looking at the glowing jack-o’-lanterns and spooky ghosts decorating the houses. Some homes even played creepy sounds like witches’ laughter and creaking doors.
But something different caught his eye as he went farther down the street. One house was dark and plain, with no decorations at all. It was Mrs. Kimbly’s house.
Mrs. Kimbly was an older woman who lived alone. Kevin had helped her before, mowing her lawn in summer and shoveling snow in winter, but she rarely said much. Her undecorated house seemed out of place in the festive neighborhood.
Kevin felt bad that her house had no Halloween spirit. He thought maybe she needed help with the decorations. Determined, he crossed the street and knocked on her door.
When Mrs. Kimbly answered, her face showed annoyance. “What do you want, Kevin?” she asked in a gruff voice.
“I noticed you don’t have any Halloween decorations. I could help you put some up, if you’d like,” Kevin offered.
Mrs. Kimbly frowned. “I don’t need decorations, and I don’t need help,” she said sharply before slamming the door.
Kevin was surprised. How could anyone hate Halloween so much? He didn’t want her house to be a target for pranks, like kids throwing toilet paper, so he came up with a plan.
At home, Kevin told his mom, Sarah, about Mrs. Kimbly’s undecorated house and how she had slammed the door in his face. His mom suggested leaving her alone, explaining that people might have reasons for not celebrating.
But Kevin didn’t think Mrs. Kimbly hated Halloween—she seemed lonely. So, he decided to help anyway.
He gathered all the Halloween decorations he could find, including his favorite pumpkin, and hurried back to Mrs. Kimbly’s house. He carefully hung lights and placed pumpkins on her porch. As he finished, the front door opened, and Mrs. Kimbly stormed out, furious.
“I told you not to decorate my house!” she yelled. She grabbed Kevin’s carved pumpkin and smashed it on the ground. Kevin was shocked and hurt, but he whispered, “I just wanted to help,” before running home.
That night, Kevin put on his vampire costume, but he couldn’t enjoy Halloween. He was worried about Mrs. Kimbly’s house being pranked. So, he returned to her house and sat on her porch, handing out candy from his own bag to trick-or-treaters, explaining that Mrs. Kimbly wasn’t home.
As he sat alone, the door creaked open. Mrs. Kimbly stepped out, her expression softer this time.
“What are you doing here, Kevin?” she asked quietly.
“I didn’t want anyone to mess with your house,” Kevin explained. “I thought I could help.”
Mrs. Kimbly sighed and sat beside him. She admitted that Halloween was hard for her because it reminded her of how alone she was. She had no family to share it with.
Kevin understood now. “You don’t have to be alone,” he said. “You can celebrate with the rest of us.”
Mrs. Kimbly smiled sadly and thanked Kevin for his kindness. She even apologized for smashing his pumpkin. Kevin promised to bring another one so they could carve it together.
For the first time in years, Mrs. Kimbly felt the warmth of Halloween again, thanks to the caring heart of one determined boy.
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