4 Epic Stories of Clever Revenge on Plane Passengers

I Fell Asleep on My Husband in the Plane but Shockingly Woke up on Another Man's Shoulder

When Jerry took on that new project six months ago, I knew it would be demanding. I just didn't realize it would consume him entirely, leaving me feeling like an unwanted piece of luggage in our marriage.

Late nights, weekends away—our relationship was becoming a ghost town. Conversations were strained, his eyes always glazed over with disinterest whenever I tried to talk about us. It felt like I was screaming into a void.

So, when Jerry suggested postponing our week-long vacation to Miami, I stood my ground.

“Everything's already booked,” I told him firmly. “We can't cancel.”

“We have to,” he snapped. “My project has reached a crucial phase. Or have you forgotten that some of us don't have the luxury of living off investments?”

“Jerry, you know darn well that I don't ‘live off my investments,' like some trust fund baby,” I retorted, rolling my eyes. “I also work and have career aspirations and job responsibilities.”

He always brought up money when he wasn't getting his way and I was not going to cave to his tactics this time!

“Besides, your leave has already been approved and, like I said, we can't cancel.”

Jerry let out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. Not like you'd miss the deposit if we did, but you're the boss, right?”

See why we needed this vacation so badly? Jerry and I couldn't carry on like this anymore. We were living past each other, and it would ruin our marriage if we didn't do something about it immediately.

I started packing immediately. That Friday, we loaded our baggage in the car and headed to the airport. I was thrilled, and even Jerry started smiling as we headed into the building.

I took this as a good sign, but I soon found out it was anything but!

On the plane, I let my exhaustion take over. Jerry's shoulder seemed like a sanctuary, a fleeting moment of closeness I desperately clung to. I woke some time later, as the pilot announced we were approaching our destination.

“I slept the whole flight?” I muttered. “Baby, you should've…”

But my words died in my throat when I looked up and realized the man beside me was not Jerry. Panic surged through me.

I straightened and was about to scream when he said something that turned my world upside down.

“Your husband is not who he seems to be. He's lying to you.”

“What?” My heart pounded, confusion swirling in my mind. “Stop being mysterious. Who are you and what the hell is going on?!”

“We don't have much time. I saw you and your husband at the airport, and I thought you needed to know. When he returns to you in a few minutes, behave as usual.”

I stared at him, trying to process his words. “What do you mean?”

“I'm Michael. I met a girl named Sophie at the airport. I liked her, and flirted with her, but then I overheard her phone conversation with another man. They talked about him ditching his wife to spend time with her.”

“What's that got to do with me?” I asked. “You can't mean to suggest—”

“I saw you fall asleep on your husband's shoulder soon after takeoff. Fifteen minutes later, I saw him get up and go to meet Sophie.” He gestured to the narrow arch at the end of the aisle. “They were flirting and acting like they've known each other for years. Your husband is the guy she spoke to on the phone.”

My world shattered.

I couldn't believe it. Jerry, my Jerry, was cheating on me? I struggled to reconcile Michael's words with the image of my husband. Could it be true?

“You can't know that for sure,” I said.

Michael smiled kindly at me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “I could be wrong… but I don't think I am. I'm sorry you had to find out this way.”

He slipped out of Jerry's seat and headed to an empty seat near the back of the cabin.

I was in so much shock that I jumped when Jerry dropped into the seat Michael had vacated.

“You're awake,” he declared with a big grin. “Ready for our holiday?”

All I could do was stare at him. He frowned slightly, but then the speakers crackled again with the usual instructions about passengers returning to their seats and fastening their seatbelts.

I then decided that I needed to see if Michael was right. I resolved to act normally, to observe Jerry, and to confirm the truth.

Upon arriving in Miami, Jerry seemed his usual charming self, engaging in light-hearted conversations and romantic gestures.

For a moment, I doubted Michael's story. But then, Jerry got a phone call. He stepped out onto the balcony to take it but soon returned with a grim look on his face.

“Sorry, honey, but I have to fly home immediately. There's an emergency with the project. But I'll be back by Wednesday, I swear.”

My heart sank, but I masked my hurt and suspicion, pretending to understand and support him.

“Of course, I understand. Work is important,” I said, forcing a smile.

“Thanks, Jess. I knew you'd get it,” Jerry replied, kissing my forehead.

He grabbed his suitcase, which he hadn't even started unpacking, and headed for the door. As soon as Jerry left the room, I hurried to follow him.

I needed to know the truth, even if it meant breaking my own heart. I kept a safe distance as I followed Jerry downstairs. He jumped into a cab parked near the entrance. I immediately jumped into a cab as well and asked the driver to follow Jerry.

It soon became clear that Jerry was not headed to the airport. My heart sank as his cab eventually pulled up outside a luxury hotel.

And then my worst fears were confirmed.

A gorgeous redhead woman in a bikini and sarong ran up to Jerry and threw herself into his arms. He twirled her around, both of them laughing, and then he kissed her.

I felt a mix of anger, heartbreak, and betrayal, but I remained composed. This was it—the moment of truth. I wasn't going to let Jerry continue deceiving me.

I paid the driver then made my way into the hotel, my mind racing with a plan.

I headed out to the bar by the pool and waited. Soon, Jerry and Sophie appeared. They sat on loungers near the pool, laughing and acting like a carefree couple.

The sight of them together made my stomach churn, but I kept my cool and ordered a cocktail. The moment Jerry walked off and jumped into the pool, I headed toward Sophie with my drink.

I paused near her chair and gazed down at her, lying in the sun with her eyes shut, skin gleaming with tanning oil. She wouldn't even see this coming.

With a flick of my wrist, I threw my entire drink over Sophie, ice blocks and all. She squealed like a piglet as the cold liquid splashed over her.

“Whoopsy,” I said, struggling to keep a straight face.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she snapped, leaping to her feet. “Learn to look where you're going, moron!”

I was taken aback by the venom in her voice, but before I could reply, I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“Sophie, darling, what's wrong?” Jerry shoved past me and rushed to Sophie's side.

“So you are having an affair,” I said.

Jerry's head snapped up when I spoke. His gaze fixed on me and I watched the blood drain from his face.

“Oh my God, Jessica? What are you doing here?”

“Catching you red-handed, you lying cheater!”

“This is your wife?” Sophie said, looking me up and down. “That's great. Now, we can finally be together, Jerry.” She turned to him, starry-eyed. “You can dump her, and we can start our new life together, just like you promised.”

I looked at Sophie, feeling a surge of triumph. “You think you'll be living the high life with Jerry? Good luck with that. Everything is in my name. You'll have to live on his charm alone.”

Sophie's face fell, and she rounded on Jerry

“You told me everything was yours! You said we'd be set!”

Jerry tried to ignore her, his eyes pleading with me. “Jessica, please, let's talk about this.”

I shook my head, my voice steady. “There's nothing left to talk about, Jerry. It's over.”

I turned and walked away, my heart heavy but resolute.

Back home, I started divorce proceedings immediately. I also contacted Michael to thank him for his honesty and support.

We met for dinner a few days later, and I found comfort in his presence.

“Thank you for everything,” I said, looking into his eyes. “I'd still be living a lie if you hadn't approached me on the plane.”

Michael smiled, reaching across the table to take my hand. “I'm just glad I could help.”

As we finished dinner, I felt a connection beginning to form. It wasn't the fairytale ending I had once dreamed of, but it was real and honest.

The trip to Miami wasn't the romantic rekindling I'd hoped for, but it was the start of a journey to self-discovery and resilience.

I walked away from a toxic marriage, stood up for myself, and found the strength to start anew. And in the process, I discovered that sometimes, the best beginnings come from the most unexpected endings.

Entitled Mom Demands That I Obey Her Teen Son's Wishes – Flight Attendant Teaches Them a Proper Lesson

I buckled my seatbelt, ready for the long flight from New York to London. I love reading, so I brought a stack of books, hoping for a quiet trip across the Atlantic. Next to me, a teenage boy was watching a TV series on his tablet. Even though he wore headphones, I could still hear the noise.

His mom sat in the aisle seat, acting as if the plane was her living room. She had her hair sprayed stiff and gave me a sharp look as she sorted through her many handbags.

We didn't talk much at first. I tried to focus on my book, but the sound from the boy's show kept distracting me. I asked him nicely to turn it down.

He just nodded and said, “Okay,” but didn't lower the volume at all. His mom just flipped through a magazine, not caring that her son was bothering others. The flight had just started, and I already knew finding peace would be tough.

As the night stretched on, the airplane cabin grew quieter, except for the noise coming from the teen's tablet. It seemed like his headphones were just for show because the sound of car chases and dramatic music filled the air. I tried to read my book, but it was tough with all that racket.

I leaned over and asked him again, a bit louder this time, “Could you please turn it down?” He glanced up, paused his show, and gave me a weak smile. “Sure, sorry about that,” he said, but as soon as I settled back, the volume went right back up. His mom didn't even look up from her magazine.

Then came the battle of the window shade. I was enjoying the night sky, but the teen suddenly reached over without a word and yanked the shade down. I waited a moment, then pulled it back up, needing the dim light to read. He sighed loudly, stretched his arm out, and slammed it down again.

His mom finally chimed in. “He's trying to sleep, can't you see? Just leave it down.”

I replied, trying to keep my cool, “I'd like to read my book, so I need it up.”

Every time I pulled it up to enjoy the early morning light, the teen yanked it down without a word. This game of tug-of-war went on for a while. His mom watched from the sidelines, her frown deepening each time I reached for the shade.

Finally, she snapped. “Enough! He needs his sleep!” Her voice was sharp, slicing through the quiet cabin. I looked around, other passengers peeking over their seats, curious about the commotion.

“I need to read,” I explained, keeping my voice calm. “And I prefer the window open.”

Her lips thinned into a tight line. “You're being incredibly selfish!” she hissed.

The tension spiked, and she pressed the call button with a forceful jab. A moment later, the flight attendant arrived, her expression unreadable.

“What seems to be the problem here?” she asked, her tone even.

The mother was quick to complain. “This woman won't let my son sleep. She keeps opening the window shade on purpose!”

I explained my side, showing her my book. “I just want to read, and I need a little light.”

The flight attendant listened, nodding slightly. Then, with a thoughtful look, she turned to me and winked subtly. “I might have a solution for you both.”

She leaned closer, her voice a low murmur. “We have an empty seat in business class. It's yours if you'd like—more peace, and another window.”

The offer took me by surprise, but the look on the mother and son's faces was priceless—mouths agape, eyes wide. It was as if she had offered to move me to another planet, not just the front of the plane.

Gratefully, I accepted, gathering my books. As I moved to my new, luxurious seat, the flight attendant didn't stop there. “And for you,” she turned back to the teen and his mom, “since there’s now a free seat here, we need to fill it.”

She returned shortly with a new passenger—a very large man who immediately assessed the cramped situation. “Would it be alright if I take the aisle seat?” he asked politely. His voice was gentle, but it carried an undertone of necessity due to his size. The mother, squeezed between her son and what would have been an uncomfortable flight, reluctantly nodded.

As I settled into the spacious business-class seat, I couldn’t help but glance back. The man, now comfortably seated in the aisle, began to doze off, his snores growing louder with each minute. The teen and his mom seemed squeezed tighter than ever, their faces a mixture of shock and discomfort.

Thanks to the flight attendant’s quick thinking, my journey turned into a peaceful escape.

As the flight continued, I luxuriated in the unexpected comfort of business class. The flight attendant stopped by with a glass of champagne, and I accepted it with a smile.

Turning the pages of my book, I occasionally glanced out of the large, clear window next to me, enjoying both the view and the serene environment. The rest of the flight passed in a delightful blur of relaxation, punctuated by thoughtful service from the flight crew.

As we landed, my gaze briefly met the teen's mother. I couldn't resist flashing a polite yet subtly mischievous smile. Her reaction was immediate — she averted her eyes, gripping her son's arm and hurrying him along the line as if escape was her only option.

Entitled Couple on Plane Demands I Cover My Face Because My Scars ‘Scare' Them — Flight Attendant & Captain Put Them in Their Place

The airport felt colder than usual, or maybe it was just the way people stared. I kept my head down, gripping my boarding pass like it was the only thing holding me together.

The scar across my face was still healing, but it already felt like it had carved itself into my identity. People didn't see me anymore, they saw the scar first.

The injury happened a month ago in a car accident. I had been a passenger, and when the airbag deployed, a shard of glass sliced deep into my face. The doctors were quick to act, stitching me up with precision, but they couldn't prevent the jagged line from forming.

My dermatologist called it “early scar tissue,” raw, shiny, and red. It stretched from an inch above my hairline, down my brow, cutting across my cheek, and ending near my jawline. Part of my eyebrow would never grow back, and my cheek had an indentation where the cut had been deepest.

For weeks, my face was covered in bandages. At first, I couldn't bear to look in the mirror. But as the wounds closed and the bandages came off, I had no choice but to face it.

My friends tried to cheer me up, calling it badass, even sexy in a mysterious way. I tried to believe them, but it was hard when strangers stared or looked away too quickly.

The healing process was slow and uncomfortable. Every morning, I applied the creams and ointments the dermatologist recommended, ensuring the skin stayed clean and hydrated.

But no amount of care could change the shiny, slick appearance or the harsh red lines that seemed to scream for attention. I knew they'd fade over time, but the thought of them never disappearing entirely sat heavy in my chest.

Now, as I walked to my seat on the plane, I could feel every pair of eyes on me. I dropped into the window seat, my heart racing.

At least I'd boarded early, avoiding the crowds. I slipped my headphones on, letting the music drown out my worries. Closing my eyes, I prayed for a peaceful, uneventful flight.

I woke up to voices. Loud ones.

“You've got to be kidding me,” a man grumbled. “These are our seats?” His tone was sharp like he was angry at the world.

“Row 5B and 5C,” a woman's voice replied, clipped and impatient. “It's fine. Just sit down.”

The couple settled into the seats next to me with a lot of huffing and shuffling. I kept my eyes closed, hoping they'd leave me alone. The man had a rough, gravelly voice. “I don't believe this. We pay for this flight, and this is what we get? Last-minute seats next to —” He stopped.

“Next to what?” the woman asked, her voice rising. “Oh.” I felt her eyes on me. My skin prickled. “You've got to be joking.”

I stayed still, my heart pounding. Please just stop talking.

“Hey, lady!” the man barked. I opened my eyes slowly and turned toward him. He flinched, then scowled. “Can't you cover that up or something?”

I blinked, too stunned to speak.

“Tom,” the woman hissed, covering her nose with her sweater sleeve. “That's disgusting. How did they even let her board like that?”

“Exactly!” Tom leaned forward, pointing a finger at me. “This is a public place, you know? People don't need to see… that.”

I felt my face flush. The words caught in my throat. I wanted to explain, to tell them it wasn't something I could help, but no sound came out.

“Are you just going to sit there?” the woman said, her voice sharp and nasally. “Unbelievable.”

Tom leaned into the aisle and waved down a flight attendant. “Hey! Can you do something about this? My girlfriend is freaking out.”

The flight attendant approached, her expression calm but serious. “Is there a problem, sir?”

“Yeah, there's a problem,” Tom said. “Look at her!” He jabbed a thumb in my direction. “It's upsetting my girlfriend. Can you move her to the back or something?”

The attendant's eyes shifted to me. Her face softened for a moment before she turned back to the man. “Sir, all passengers are entitled to their seats. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I just told you!” Tom snapped. “She's sitting there looking like that. It's gross. She should have to cover it up or move.”

The woman added, “I can't even look at her. I'll throw up.”

The flight attendant straightened, her tone cool and firm. “Sir, ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to lower your voices. This kind of behavior is not acceptable.”

Tom scoffed. “Behavior? What about her behavior? It's inconsiderate! She's scaring people!”

The attendant ignored him and crouched slightly toward me. “Miss, are you okay?”

I nodded stiffly, barely holding back tears.

The attendant stood tall again. “I'll be right back,” she said, her voice steady. “Excuse me for a moment.”

As she walked toward the cockpit, Tom leaned back in his seat, muttering under his breath. The woman beside him folded her arms and glared out the aisle. I stared at the window, wishing I could disappear.

The cabin was quiet except for the low hum of the engines. I kept my eyes on the seatback in front of me, trying not to cry. A few rows back, someone whispered. I imagined they were talking about me.

The intercom crackled. The captain's voice came through, calm but firm.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We've been made aware of behavior that does not align with the respectful environment we strive to maintain on this flight. Let me remind everyone that harassment or discrimination of any kind will not be tolerated. Please treat your fellow passengers with dignity.”

The announcement sent a ripple through the cabin. Heads turned, passengers shifting in their seats as they glanced toward row 5. I caught sight of someone across the aisle shaking their head in disapproval, and my stomach twisted.

The flight attendant returned, standing tall and composed. She leaned into our row and addressed the couple directly. “Mr. and Ms., I'll need you to move to seats 22B and 22C at the back of the plane.”

The man looked stunned. “What?” he barked. “We're not moving!”

“Sir,” the flight attendant said firmly, “this is not negotiable. Your behavior has disrupted the flight, and we need to ensure a comfortable environment for all passengers.”

“This is ridiculous,” the woman snapped, pulling her sweater tighter around her. “Why are we the ones being punished? She's the one causing the problem!”

The flight attendant didn't flinch. “Ma'am, your new seats are ready. Please gather your belongings.”

The man scowled, his face flushed red with anger. “This is insane,” he muttered, yanking his bag from under the seat. The woman followed, grumbling loudly as she snatched her purse. Passengers nearby watched silently, their expressions ranging from disapproval to quiet satisfaction.

As the couple shuffled down the aisle, someone clapped. Then another. The sound grew, scattering applause throughout the cabin. I bit my lip, trying to hold back tears. Not from embarrassment this time, but from the strange, unexpected comfort of the gesture.

The flight attendant turned to me, her expression soft. “Miss, I want to apologize for what happened. No one should have to experience that.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

“We have an open seat in business class,” she continued. “We'd like to move you there as a gesture of goodwill. Would that be okay?”

I hesitated. “I don't want to cause trouble.”

“You're not causing trouble,” she said, her voice kind. “Please. Let us take care of you.”

I nodded, murmuring, “Thank you.”

As I settled into my new seat, she brought me a cup of coffee and a small bag of cookies, then left me to relax. I stared out the window, the clouds a soft white blur against the endless blue. My breathing slowed, the knot in my chest loosening.

For the first time in what felt like weeks, I let myself cry. Quiet tears slid down my cheeks. I thought about my friends' words, how they'd told me I was still me, scars and all. “You're still beautiful,” one had said. “You're just fierce now too.”

I looked out the window again. The clouds seemed endless, stretching far into the horizon. My tears stopped. I took a deep breath, the air filling my lungs like a promise.

As the plane glided forward, I felt something I hadn't in weeks: hope.

Woman Spoiled 8-Hour Flight for Other Passengers – After the Trip, the Captain Decided to Put Her in Her Place

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.”

“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.”