I was on a flight with my husband, Alton, last night. We were finally heading home after spending a week with his parents. I couldn’t wait to get back to my own bed.
“I’ve missed our shower the most,” Alton said. “Mom and dad’s place is fine, but nothing beats our water pressure.”
As we boarded the plane, everything seemed calm. Alton even helped carry my bags. It felt like this would be a smooth journey.
Once we settled into our seats, I leaned back, hoping to catch a nap. That’s when I noticed something annoying—a woman behind us had her bare feet pressed against Alton’s seat. She even kicked his chair repeatedly while chatting loudly with her friend.
Alton, ever patient, turned around and politely asked, “Could you put your feet down?”
She laughed and ignored him. It was as if she didn’t care at all.
After another round of kicks, Alton’s tone grew firmer. “Please stop kicking the seat. It’s very annoying.”
But she didn’t bother responding. Her rudeness pushed my patience to the limit.
Alton decided to get a flight attendant. She spoke to the woman in a no-nonsense tone, and for a moment, it seemed like things would settle. But soon after the attendant left, the woman’s feet were back.
I couldn’t take it anymore. When the beverage trolley came, I ordered a water bottle and Alton’s favorite gin and tonic.
“What are you doing?” he asked, catching on.
“Just trust me,” I replied. I poured some water onto her bag, then tipped the rest of Alton’s drink onto her feet.
She screamed, jerking her legs back. “Did you just spill that on me?”
I turned with an innocent look. “Oh, sorry! Turbulence,” I said casually.
She muttered angrily to her friend, calling me rude. But after that, her feet stayed off Alton’s seat. Peace was finally restored.
When we landed, Alton laughed and said, “I haven’t seen petty Crystal in a while.”
“Well, desperate times call for desperate measures,” I replied, relieved the ordeal was over.
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