An unexpected act of boldness from the passenger behind her transformed what was supposed to be an ordinary vacation into something far more memorable for one woman. It ended in a way none of them had anticipated.
I was on a flight from New York to Los Angeles—just another work trip. At 35, as a marketing consultant, I’m no stranger to airports and airplanes. This time, I had a tight connection to San Diego for a pre-conference meeting before a major event in LA. I had meticulously planned everything because delays were not an option.
I even selected an aisle seat to ensure a quick exit. When I reached my row, the man in the window seat was already settled in. He seemed in his early 40s, exuding a sense of self-importance. Dressed in a crisp button-down, polished slacks, and shiny shoes, he barely acknowledged me as I sat down, more interested in his expensive watch.
Not a big deal, I thought. I just wanted a peaceful flight, maybe review my notes for San Diego, and squeeze in a nap before landing. Little did I know, this man would turn my otherwise routine trip into an aggravating ordeal.
Halfway through the flight, the attendants began serving dinner. I was starving, having not eaten all day, and the smell of food had my stomach rumbling. Eager to eat, review my notes, and then relax, I noticed the food cart was still a few rows away. Since I had time, I decided to use the restroom.
When I reached the back of the plane, I encountered a line. Perfect, just what I needed! I anxiously watched the minutes tick by, foot tapping impatiently. By the time it was my turn, I was worried I’d miss the meal service.
Upon returning to my seat, I was shocked. The man beside me was happily digging into his second meal, and my tray was gone.
“Did they bring my food while I was away?” I asked, though the answer was clear.
With a smug grin, he glanced up. “Yeah. You took so long, I figured you didn’t want it. Didn’t want it to go to waste.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “You ate my food?”
“Yep,” he said nonchalantly, chewing. “I was still hungry after mine, and you weren’t here. You can grab something at the airport.”
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Entitled people weren’t new to me, but this was another level. Who does that?
“Are you serious right now?” I muttered, more to myself than to him.
He shrugged. “Relax, it’s just airplane food.”
Frustrated, I pressed the call button and asked the flight attendant if there were any meals left. She gave me a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, we’re out of meals, but I can offer you some pretzels.”
Pretzels? That wasn’t going to cut it, but I had no choice. I took the small bag, feeling both hungry and annoyed. Meanwhile, Mr. Important finished both meals, leaned back, and promptly fell asleep, content as a cat with a full belly.
I nibbled on the pretzels, trying to focus on my work, but my growling stomach was a constant reminder of his audacity. I had more important things to worry about, though—a tight connection awaited me, and I couldn’t let this man ruin my day. I kept checking my watch, counting the minutes until landing.
As the flight attendants announced our descent, mentioning connections, I snapped back to reality. I had to move fast. My seatmate, still blissfully asleep, was completely oblivious.
As soon as we landed, I grabbed my bag, ready to dash. But just as I stood up, the flight attendant announced a last-minute gate change for those connecting to San Diego.
Great. Exactly what I didn’t need. I glanced at Mr. Important, still fast asleep. Should I wake him? After all, he had eaten my meal and acted like a jerk, but did that mean I should leave him to miss his connection?
I gave him a light nudge. “Hey, we landed,” I said quietly.
Nothing. He didn’t stir.
I nudged him again, more forcefully. “There’s been a gate change. You might want to wake up.”
He mumbled something incoherent and turned away. Figuring the noise would eventually wake him, I focused on making my connection and hurried off the plane.
Navigating through the crowded terminal, I arrived at my new gate just in time. Boarding had already begun, but I made it. As I settled into my seat, I finally relaxed. I was on my way to San Diego.
It wasn’t until I met my colleagues later that I learned the full story. As we discussed our travels, Lisa, a coworker, shared something amusing.
“There was this guy at LAX,” she laughed. “Looked like he’d just woken up from a coma—totally lost. He was arguing with a gate agent because he missed his connection. Apparently, he’d been asleep during the gate change announcement.”
I couldn’t help but grin. “How did he look?”
Lisa described a man in his early 40s, wearing a wrinkled button-down shirt, slacks, polished shoes, and obsessively checking a pricey watch. His hair was a mess, and he looked stressed and angry.
I knew instantly it was him.
“Oh, that guy,” I said with a smirk. “He was sitting next to me. He ate my meal while I was in the bathroom and then passed out. I tried to wake him.”
Lisa’s eyes widened. “No way! That’s karma at its finest.”
I couldn’t agree more. Though the experience had been infuriating, there was something deeply satisfying about knowing that karma had the final word. While Mr. Important was stuck in Los Angeles, regretting his double dinner, I made it to my meeting on time.
What goes around, indeed, comes around—sometimes with perfect timing.
