My height has always caused problems for me, especially during flights.
During my most recent trip, I came across a fellow passenger who didn’t care about my discomfort and gladly worsened it. But this time I had a cunning solution!
I’m 16, and for my age, I am quite tall.
I’m just over six feet! Every time I get on a plane, I know I’m in for a rough ride.
My legs are so long that even before we take off, my knees are already wedged against the seat in front of me.
And let me tell you, it’s not fun! But what happened on this last flight took the cake…
It started like any other trip. My mom and I were flying back home after visiting my grandparents.
We were going to be seated in economy, where the legroom felt more like a leg prison.
So, I was already bracing myself for the discomfort, but determined to get through it.
Little did I know, things were about to get a lot more uncomfortable.
The flight got delayed, so by the time we finally boarded, everyone was on edge. The plane was packed, and you could feel the tension in the air.
I settled into my seat, trying to find some way to position my legs so it didn’t feel like I was squashed into a washing machine.
My mom, who always seems to have a solution for everything, handed me a travel pillow and a couple of magazines.
“Here, maybe this will help,” she said with a sympathetic smile. I was flipping through one of the magazines when I felt the first warning sign: a slight jolt as the seat in front of me reclined an inch. I looked up, hoping it was a minor adjustment.
But no, it wasn’t…
The guy in front of me, a middle-aged man in a business suit, was about to go FULL recline! Now, I’ve got nothing against people reclining their seats, but there are some basic unwritten rules about it. Like, maybe take a look behind you first?
Or MAYBE don’t SLAM your seat into someone’s knees when there’s barely enough space as it is?
I watched in horror as his seat came back further and further until it felt like he was PRACTICALLY in my lap!
My knees were smashed, and I had to angle them to the side to avoid crying out in pain. I couldn’t believe it! I was trapped!
I leaned forward, trying to catch his attention. “Excuse me, sir?” I said, my voice polite despite the growing frustration.
“Could you maybe move your seat up a bit? I don’t have much room back here.”
He turned his head slightly, gave me a quick once-over, and then shrugged.
“Sorry, kid, I paid for this seat,” he said as if that was supposed to make it okay.
I glanced at my mom, who gave me that look… the one that said, “Let it go.” But I wasn’t ready to let it go. Not yet.
“Mom,” I whispered, “this is ridiculous. My knees are jammed against the seat.
He can’t just —”
She cut me off with a raised eyebrow. “I know, honey, but it’s a short flight. Let’s just try to get through it, okay?”
I wanted to argue, but she was right.
It was a short flight. I could tough it out. Or at least, I thought I could.
But then, the guy in front of me decided he needed to recline even further.
I’m not kidding! His seat must have been broken or something because it went back another few inches, FAR BEYOND what was normal!
My knees were now practically embedded in his seatback, and I had to sit at a weird angle to keep them from getting crushed!
“Mom, this isn’t going to work,” I said through gritted teeth.
She sighed and flagged down the flight attendant. A friendly-looking woman in her mid-thirties walked over, her smile fading as she took in the situation.
“Hi there,” she said, leaning down to hear us over the hum of the engines.
“Is everything okay?”
“My son’s having some trouble with the seat in front of him,” my mom explained. “It’s reclined a lot more than usual, and he doesn’t have any room.”
The flight attendant nodded and approached the man in front of me. “Sir,” she said politely, “I understand you’d like to recline your seat, but it seems to be causing an issue for the passenger behind you.
Could I ask you to bring it up a bit?”
The man barely glanced up from his laptop. “No,” he said, his tone flat. “I paid for this seat, and I’m going to use it how I want.”
The flight attendant blinked, clearly not expecting that response.
“I understand, but the seat seems to be reclining more than it should.
It appears to have gone down a full six inches more than other seats. It’s creating a very uncomfortable situation for the young man behind you.”
He finally looked up at her, and I could see the irritation in his eyes. “There’s nothing in the rules that says I can’t recline my seat.
If he’s uncomfortable, maybe he should get a seat in first class.”
I felt my face flush with anger, but before I could say anything, the flight attendant gave me a sympathetic look. She mouthed “I’m sorry, there’s nothing more I can do.” She then turned back to him and said, “Enjoy your flight, sir,” before walking away.
I slumped back in my seat, trying to find a way to deal with the discomfort. My mom gave me a reassuring pat on the arm, but I could tell she was frustrated too.
That’s when it hit me! My mom is always prepared for any situation, and I mean ANY situation.
She’s the kind of person who packs an entire pharmacy in her carry-on, just in case. I was sure she’d packed everything we’d possibly need on the plane.
And sure enough, when I opened her bag, there was the answer to my problem… I pulled out a family-sized bag of pretzels!
An idea had started to form in my mind! It was a bit childish, but honestly, I didn’t care. This guy had no respect for anyone around him, so why should I respect his personal space?
I leaned over to my mom and whispered, “I think I know how to handle this.”
She raised an eyebrow but nodded, curious to see what I had in mind. I ripped open the bag of pretzels and started munching away, making sure to chew with my mouth wide open. Crumbs were flying everywhere, on my lap, on the floor, and most importantly, on the guy’s head!
He didn’t notice at first, too absorbed in whatever important business he was doing on his laptop.
But after a few minutes, I saw him stiffen. He reached up and brushed his shoulder, then the back of his head.
I could tell he was getting annoyed, but I kept going, making sure each bite was as loud and messy as possible. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore!
He whipped around, glaring at me with a mixture of disgust and fury.
“What are you doing?” he snapped.
I looked up at him innocently, wiping some crumbs from my mouth. “Oh, sorry,” I said, even though I was not sorry at all. “These pretzels are really dry.
I guess they’re making a mess.”
“Stop it,” he demanded, his voice rising.
I shrugged. “I’m just eating my snack. I paid for this seat, you know.”
He narrowed his eyes at me, clearly not amused by the use of his own words against him.
“You’re getting crumbs all over me. Knock it off!”
I leaned back in my seat, still munching. “I’d be happy to, but it’s kind of hard when your seat is crushing my legs.
Maybe if you moved it up a bit, I wouldn’t have to sit like this.”
His face turned an interesting shade of red. “I’m NOT moving my seat because some brat can’t handle a little discomfort!”
“Well, if that’s how you feel,” I said, and then I sneezed, on purpose, of course! It was a fake sneeze, but it was enough to send another shower of crumbs his way!
My mom looked like she was about to intervene…
But THAT was the breaking point! He grumbled something under his breath, then, with a look of utter defeat, he pushed the button to raise his seat. The relief in my legs was IMMEDIATE, and I couldn’t help but smile as I stretched them out a bit.
“Thank you,” I said sweetly, though I’m sure the smile on my face wasn’t as innocent as I made it out to be.
He didn’t reply, just turned back around, probably trying to salvage whatever dignity he had left.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page. Tap READ MORE to discover the rest 🔎👇
