11/08/2025
“IT WAS TIGHT IN THERE. ‘IF YOU NEED SPACE, BOOK BUSINESS CLASS,’ I THOUGHT. BUT LESS THAN TEN MINUTES AFTER TAKEOFF, A TEEN THREW HIS FEET—YELLOW SOCKS AND ALL—ONTO MY ARMREST. WHAT I DID NEXT MADE THE WHOLE ROW GO QUIET.” Ten minutes after takeoff, I settled into my window seat: headphones in, book open, tray table up, the quiet rhythm of flight beginning to hum. Then something cold and gritty touched my arm. I turned—and froze. A sock, once white and now bravely gray, was draped across my armrest like it had paid for the seat. “Hey!” I said, astonished. “What is this?” The teenager behind me didn’t move his foot. He didn’t even look up from his magazine. “Relax,” he said lazily. “It’s cramped.” “Cramped isn’t an excuse to put your foot on someone else’s armrest,” I replied, heat rising to my cheeks. He smirked. “If you want space, try business class.” A couple of passengers glanced over. I swallowed the retort that wanted to fly out faster than the plane and took a slow breath…Full story in the first comment 👇
