Flying isn’t cheap, especially with a child. So when I purchased two seats—one for me, one for my toddler—I expected them to be there. But a stranger had already taken both, her body spilling into the space I paid for. I tried reasoning with her, but she refused to budge. I flagged down a flight attendant, hoping for a quick resolution. What she did in response wasn’t just unexpected—it sent shockwaves through the entire plane.
When I boarded the plane and walked down the aisle, I couldn't believe it. An unfamiliar face, this woman taking up two seats—including mine! Her ample form expanded into the seat meant for little Jacob. “Excuse me, I believe these are our seats,” I said politely, hoping she’d move. Her glance at the seat numbers was brief, like she didn’t care. I felt the frustration bubbling up, yet tried to remain composed.
Despite my repeated efforts, Brenda seemed determined not to acknowledge me. “Ma’am, do you mind moving?” I tried again, this time with a slightly firmer tone. She was engrossed in her book, acting like there wasn’t a soul standing beside her. The silence felt heavy. It was as if I was invisible. People started glancing our way, sensing the awkwardness. I knew I had to take it to the next level.
Poor Jacob, standing there with his backpack clutched to his chest, looked up at me. His big blue eyes were full of questions. “Mommy, where do I sit?” he whispered. I knelt down to reassure him, offering a smile despite my growing frustration. “We’ll get this sorted out, buddy, I promise.” But I could sense his discomfort and knew we couldn’t linger like this for much longer.