A Slim Woman Sitting Next to a Passenger Teased Her Weight Throughout the Flight and Kept Saying She Took up…
Not yet.
But I simply smiled and returned to my magazine.
I had no intention of frightening anyone.
At least, not yet.
About twenty minutes into the flight, I took a snack bar from my purse. I needed to keep my blood sugar stable, and my doctor had specifically advised me not to skip snacks.
“I need it.”
My neighbor immediately noticed.
“You’re eating that?”
“I need it,” I replied.
“Of course. Have you ever thought that maybe you should eat less? You’re already taking up part of my seat!”
I stared at her.
She laughed.
“Excuse me? I’m sitting in my own seat. I’m not taking up yours.”
She laughed.
“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? Your huge leg is spilling into my seat.”
I glanced down. Both my legs were firmly within my seat, but I pressed them together anyway.
Ten minutes later, she announced that she needed the bathroom.
My cheeks burned.
I unbuckled my seat belt and stood to let her pass.
“Why does it take you so long to get up?” she snapped. “People should know their size and think about the other passengers around them.”
My cheeks burned.
Normally, I would’ve had a comeback ready. But after so many insults, I couldn’t find a single word.
When she returned, she stopped a passing flight attendant.
“Are you blind?”
“Excuse me! Aren’t people like her supposed to buy two tickets? I’m practically being crushed!”
The attendant examined our seats.
“Ma’am, she’s sitting entirely within her own space.”
“Are you blind? Look at her!”
I opened my mouth, but the attendant gently interrupted.
I hesitated.
“There’s another available seat farther back. Would you prefer to move?”
I hesitated.
I’d paid for this aisle seat, and I hated rewarding such awful behavior.
But five more hours beside this woman sounded unbearable.
“All right,” I sighed.
I wasn’t embarrassed.
My neighbor smiled triumphantly.
Then I reached for my carry-on and remembered my grandson’s special Halloween present.
Suddenly, I wasn’t embarrassed anymore.
In fact, I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling. An absolutely wicked idea had just occurred to me.
I opened my carry-on and carefully unwrapped my grandson’s present.
Absolutely hideous.
It was a doll about the size of a small child, with a cracked, porcelain-looking face, tangled black hair, and a crooked smile that revealed two rows of yellowish teeth.
Its tiny hands had unnaturally long fingers, and its Victorian dress looked as though someone had dragged it through a cemetery.
Absolutely hideous.
My grandson was going to adore it.
It was a doll.
The doll had come with a remote control, which I discreetly slipped into my cardigan pocket.
Then I settled my new friend into my old seat and tucked my travel blanket around her.
Only a few strands of black hair stuck out.
My neighbor barely noticed. She was too busy scrolling through her phone, probably celebrating her victory.
I looked up.
I collected my belongings and walked toward my new seat.
I’d barely sat down when a shriek echoed through the cabin.
“WHAT IS THAT?!”
I looked up.
The woman had pulled away the blanket and was staring directly into the doll’s horrible face.
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