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?
I Asked to See My Wedding Pics & Saw
At her wedding reception, Jess marvels over how perfect everything turned out. When she has a quiet moment away from her guests, she asks to view some wedding photos. But what she sees sends her spiraling.
After three years of being together, and a year to plan our dream wedding, Adam and I got married.
Everything was perfect. We had our favorite food, music, and people. I thought nothing could ruin this wonderful day until I asked our photographer to show me some of our wedding photos on her camera.
Adam and I married at sunset, my favorite time of the day. The entire ceremony was perfectly planned for our vows to be recited while the sun streamed from all angles.
Of course, then it was time to party. Adam wanted our reception to be one big bash and for our guests to have a blast.
Bride and Groom silhouettes during sunset | Source: Pixabay
We also wanted every moment to be documented, so we hired Jack and Annie to capture our wedding bliss through the lenses.
We also had a photo booth, but we wanted candid photos.
“We’re only getting married once,” Adam said when I questioned whether we were being too lavish with our money.
“Let’s make memories, Jess,” he said, kissing my hand.
Person sitting in a photo booth | Source: Pexels
During our reception, I noticed Annie sitting alone while Adam was toasting away with his groomsmen.
“I’m taking a break,” she chuckled, sipping a cocktail. “Jack has it covered.”
“Well, while I have you,” I said, sitting beside her. “Can you show me some of the photos? I want to see what my dress looks like from the back.”
“Sure,” Annie said. She hesitated, sipping her cocktail slowly while turning a little red.
I turned around to look at the crowd while Annie drank.
“But you look beautiful,” she said, picking up her camera.
“My mom made a joke about the dress making my butt look a little big,” I chuckled, feeling the warmth from the champagne radiate through me.
Annie held the camera and, resting it lightly on her leg, began swiping through the images.
Woman sipping on a cocktail | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t help but smile at the photographs — I loved seeing the guests enjoy themselves.
But staring at the vibrant photographs, my eye caught something peculiar in the background of one the pictures of me and my parents.
The photo captured a brief yet unexpected moment — I saw Adam holding Annie’s hand as they shared a stolen kiss.
I could not believe my eyes. I zoomed in just to make sure I was not making it up, but it was all there.
The photographer choked on the drink she was sipping, her face turning purple.
I couldn’t breathe. Adam and I had only been married for about three hours, and already, he was betraying me.
“Don’t you dare move,” I hissed at Annie. “Don’t you dare say a word!”
Annie nodded quickly, her eyes wide at my sudden change of demeanor.
But what did she really expect? I was at my own wedding, and I had just found out that my husband had cheated. After she betrayed me like that and ruined my wedding day, I made sure her photography career would take a hit.
I picked up Annie’s camera and took it to the DJ, who screened a series of photographs of Adam and me through the years while he blasted out the latest hits.
Person holding a camera | Source: Pexels
“Are you sure?” he asked when I told him what I needed him to do.
“Absolutely,” I said.
When it was time for speeches, my father talked about love and how glad he was that I had chosen Adam as my partner. But I could barely listen to a word. Instead, I sat there, recalling the subtle tension between Annie and Adam when we first met with her and Jack, her business partner.
I had trusted Adam so implicitly that the thought of infidelity was a foreign invader in our relationship.
After my father toasted Adam and me, wishing us a happily married life, it was my turn to give Adam my wedding gift.
Ever since I met my new husband, he has spoken about an unexplained love for Iceland.
“There’s just something about the elephant rock and the lava caves, Jess. It feels magical. Maybe I lived there in another life,” he had said on our second date.
When we were planning the wedding, Adam decided that the whole thing would be on him and our families, and I would surprise him with our honeymoon.
Knowing how much effort was put into the ceremony, I wanted to surprise him with a trip to Iceland. I wanted him to experience the love he had for Iceland with me.
Green Iceland landscape | Source: Pexels
I took the mic and spoke of Adam’s dream visit to Iceland. I watched him hang onto my every word, his eyes shining.
I nodded to Duncan, our DJ.
The screen flashed with the photograph of Annie and Adam.
I watched Adam try to mask his shock, and Annie tried to hide her face. Once filled with shouts of celebration and tipsy guests, the room echoed with gasps and hushed whispers.
Adam pulled me outside, away from the guests who wanted to know more.
“I’ve known Annie since we were teenagers, Jess,” he said frantically. “All the wedding planning just rekindled the past love we had. But it was fleeting. It was just a mistake, Jess.”
He pleaded for forgiveness, tears streaming down his face. But I didn’t want to give him that — I didn’t want to forgive him.
Maybe under different circumstances, I would have felt differently. But just after we got married? No way.
Close-up of man crying | Source: Pexels
The next day, I annulled our marriage, leaving behind the shards of shattered vows.
Adam can sort things out with Annie.
I still had my bags packed, ready for my honeymoon. So, I had my sister pack her bags and join me.
Now, I’m sitting in our hotel room, drinking hot chocolate and reflecting on what would have happened if I didn’t see that photo — my wedded life would have begun in ignorance.
Person holding a mug of hot chocolate | Source: Pexels
Has anything as heartbreaking happened to you?
Here’s another story for you: Jess is happy to know that her mother, Mona, wants to spend more time with her children during their summer holidays. She even tries to look past the fact that Mona just wants her to divorce Matt, her husband. But when Jess goes to a café during her lunch, she gets a lot more than the menu offers.
Read the full story here.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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