Air travel brings out all kinds of people—some polite, some… not so much. On our latest flight, my husband and I encountered the latter. A woman behind us treated Alton’s seat like her personal recliner, propping her bare feet up despite multiple requests to stop.
At first, we tried diplomacy. Alton asked nicely. She ignored him. He asked again, more firmly. She laughed. We even got a flight attendant involved, but the moment the attendant left, those feet were right back where they didn’t belong.
That’s when I switched tactics.
When the drink service came, I saw my opportunity. A spilled bottle of water “accidentally” soaked the edge of her bag. A “clumsy” moment with Alton’s drink left her feet less than comfortable. Suddenly, she was all apologies—not to us, of course, but to her friend, complaining about “messy passengers.”
Funny how her feet stayed firmly on the floor after that.
Sometimes, the quietest revenge is the most satisfying.
