45 Shocking Moments When Rude Passengers Met Their Match Mid-Flight—and Didn’t See It Coming
A few minutes later the plane took off. Her bag once again was shoved against my heels. At this point we were playing some kind of “passing the bag” game, back and forth in between us. After awhile she won. Or so she thought.
I leaned back as far as I could. Between the baby crying, the old man coughing, and that woman’s loud complaints, I had about enough. “You took my arm seat,” she said to the old man. “I can’t help it if your arms are too fat,” he retorted in between his coughing fits. Back and forth, back and forth, a thought entered my head – – a bad one.
I reached in my pocket and retrieved my pack of gum. One by one I chewed them until they were drained of the sugary taste. Then I wedged them under the lid of her bag. As the flight progressed, I got more creative. The sticky gum were accompanying with little notes I tore out from the airline magazine. “Jerk.” There were more notes but I didn’t remember what the messages were.
As the plane landed, I was the first one got off. I wonder how long it took for her to discover what I did.
I recently had to fly from Manchester, UK to Cyprus for work. It’s a five hour flight and being 6 ft tall work got me the extra leg room seat as otherwise it would be a really uncomfortable flight. They also booked the window seat, so I could lean my head to the side and try to nap.
So as I board the flight I make it to my row and there is another 6 ft guy in the aisle seat and a little old lady in my window seat. I politely tell the guy I need to get in this row and he moves for me. This old woman then looks at me and says “Sorry, did you want this seat?”. Well now I’m trapped in socially awkward hell. I can’t ask her to move. I’m a healthy man and she is a little old woman. I’m forced to say, “no, it’s fine” and take the middle seat.
Inside I’m fuming. Of course I want that seat. It’s the reason I booked the seat. But don’t worry seat stealer I’ll just sit in the middle while you enjoy the window.
So the usual flight stuff happens, everyone else boards and the plane doors are closed. At this point the aisle guy disappears. Like a ninja he is gone. Must have been an empty set near his family. Start of my pettyness. In this situation you would usually move to the aisle seat and give window stealer and yourself more room, but I didnt. I kept my middle seat. I completely utilised the extra aisle seat. My bottle of water had a very comfortable position as did my mobile phone which I listened to audio books with. All the time leaning straight over seat stealer to look out the window. I mean she couldn’t complain, she had my extra leg room and my window, she couldn’t complain about me wanting to take a look.
So the next thing to arrive after take off is my meal. I had to explain that it was my meal as seat stealer hadn’t ordered anything. At which point all the paperwork had to come out to confirm it was me who had ordered it and not the old granny in my seat. After a long wait I was eventually given my food and I started eating. Using both my drop down table and the empty seats drop down table next to me. All my rubbish went on the extra table while only the thing I was eating on my table. Again all the time leaning over to look out of my window and being extra elbowy while cutting my food.
Then my favourite part. As I’m finishing my meal the young mother who had boarded about the same time and was sat in front of me got up and started moving around awkwardly in her seat and the aisle. I realised she had her young baby on her lap and not in its own seat. Well what could I do but offer her the extra space so they could both have a seat. The young mother was over the moon and just keot saying thank you. She had all the extra seat of room. I looked over at seat stealer as the baby was sat into the seat next to her and she looked disgusted at this messy baby throwing his arms about in his nice new big seat.
I just smiled and went back to my audio books for the rest of the flight.
I used to be a trade show director in the high tech field, and often, when problems arose, things ran late and I boarded flights wearing my show floor clothes; jeans and a t shirt.
Such was the case from DC to SFO, and I took my seat in business class (You rack up molto travel points when you do shows).
Seated in the middle was this towering Armani pustule, all ostentatious gold jewelry, obligatory Rolex, Mont Blanc pen with his name on it, monogrammed cuffs in case he actually forgot who he was.
He made a visible play of moving away from his middle seat to the window, ignoring my cheerful “Hello”.
No problem, I don’t like conversing with fellow passengers, it always gets awkward knowing when to go back to your book.
All went fine until I suddenly heard “YOU: move!|”
Pustule wanted to pee. No “excuse me” just ‘MOVE!’
I went full sycophant-parody mode immediately: “Yessir, Mr. Bigshot with the ridiculous tie, right away, sir!”
A couple of people who heard his demands caught on and started grinning, and off he went to the bathroom.














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