Woman on Flight Rests Feet on My Husband’s Seat — I Couldn’t Tolerate It & Devised a Petty Retaliation

During a flight back home, Crystal and her spouse, Alton, were troubled by a fellow traveler who persistently nudged Alton’s seat. After repeated requests for her to cease, Crystal opted to handle the situation herself.

“I was on a plane with my husband last evening. We were en route home after a week-long visit to his parents. I was eager to return to our own bed.

“I’ve been longing for our shower,” Alton mentioned. “Mom and dad’s house is fine, but nothing compares to our water pressure.”

Once we boarded, it seemed the flight would go smoothly.

I reached through the armrest and drenched her feet with the drink.

“Ew!” the woman cried out, retracting her feet swiftly, nearly hitting her friend.

She grabbed my sleeve, glaring.

“Did you just spill your drink on me?” she accused.

Facing her, I feigned innocence.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. Must have been turbulence,” I explained.

She seemed to consider arguing but opted against it.

Instead, she muttered to her friend about my rudeness, labeling me ‘trashy’ for spilling on her.

“She should have simply asked politely,” her friend naively commented.

whatever they please,” I responded. “Especially when it’s so blatantly disrespectful.”

The rest of the flight was peaceful. Every so often, the woman glared at me, but I ignored her.

As we began our descent, she noticed her damp bag and glared daggers at me.

I offered a smug, subtle smile and looked away.

“I’ll shower first,” Alton suggested as we prepared to leave the plane. “Then straight to bed.”

“I completely agree,” I responded.

As we disembarked, the woman hurried past us, still fuming. We leisurely collected our belongings, allowing the crowd to disperse before exiting.

Stepping off the plane, I felt a wave of satisfaction.

Sometimes, a touch of petty retaliation is necessary to make a point.

As we walked through the terminal, the stress of the flight fading, Alton drew me close.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen petty Crystal,” he noted, laughter in his voice.

“Well, desperate times call for desperate measures,” I replied.

What would you have done?

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