As I boarded my flight home from London after a grueling swimming competition, all I could think about was getting some much-needed sleep. The eight-hour journey to New York was no easy feat, but I had come prepared with earplugs, snacks, and sleeping pills. Little did I know, I was about to endure a nightmare thanks to the woman sitting next to me.
As the plane filled up with passengers, I squeezed into my cramped middle seat, cursing my height and hoping for a quiet flight. The woman in the window seat gave me a tired smile before settling in. She seemed just as ready to tune out the world as I was.
But then she arrived – the woman in the aisle seat who would make the next eight hours a living hell. From the moment she sat down, I could feel the tension radiating off her. She huffed and puffed and shifted restlessly, as if her seat had been swapped with a spot in the cargo hold. Let’s call her Karen.
Karen’s complaints started before the plane even took off. “This is ridiculous!” she exclaimed, loud enough for the surrounding rows to hear. “These seats are tiny. How is anyone supposed to be comfortable?”
I exchanged a weary glance with the woman in the window seat, both of us bracing for what was clearly going to be a long flight. But little did we know, Karen was just getting started.
Once we reached cruising altitude, Karen’s reign of terror began. She repeatedly pressed the call button, summoning a flight attendant who appeared with a practiced smile. “Ma’am, how can I assist you?” the attendant asked.
Karen crossed her arms dramatically. “This seat is unacceptable! I’m stuck between these two giants. Look at this guy!” She gestured towards me. “His knees are practically in my lap! And her -” she pointed a thumb towards the window-seat woman – “she’s taking up too much space too!”
The attendant’s smile tightened. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but the flight is fully booked. There are no other available seats.”
But Karen wasn’t having it. “What about business class? Surely there’s something better than this?”
“There’s nothing available, ma’am.”
“Well then, move them! I paid for this seat and I shouldn’t have to suffer because they can’t fit in theirs!”
I clenched my jaw, trying to hold back a retort. The woman in the window seat looked like she was on the verge of tears, her body pressed against the wall as far as possible.
“Ma’am, everyone has the right to their assigned seat,” the flight attendant said firmly. “I’ll have to ask you to be respectful to the other passengers.”
Karen muttered something under her breath, but for the moment, she seemed to settle down. Or so I thought.