A lady called over the flight attendant to complain about me — but just a few minutes later, she clearly wished she hadn’t 😨😲
I knew I didn’t look my best. Fever, chills, a dry cough — they’d all hit me the night before. But canceling the trip wasn’t an option: the tickets were booked, the hotel was paid for, and my meetings were set. I had to pull myself together and get on that plane.
I slipped into my window seat quietly, determined not to bother anyone. I set my water bottle down, kept some tissues within reach, and prepared to get through the next few hours as peacefully as I could.
But about ten minutes after takeoff, a sharp voice cut through the cabin:
— “This is impossible! He’s been coughing nonstop! I don’t have to sit here like this!”
A woman, maybe in her fifties, turned fully toward me, her expression tight.
— “Are you sick? Why would you even get on this flight?”
I answered as calmly as I could:
— “I’m sorry. I’ll try to keep it down. I’ll take some medicine. Maybe headphones could help if the sound is bothering you…”
— “I’m not wearing anything! This is my trip, and you’re ruining it!” she snapped, drawing every pair of eyes in the cabin.
Seconds later, she pressed the call button.
A young flight attendant appeared with a polite but strained smile.
— “Good afternoon, is there an issue?”
The woman leaned forward:
— “He’s coughing! He’s not well! You need to do something! I paid for my seat!”
The attendant nodded, left, and returned shortly with a more serious expression. She had clearly spoken to the captain. That’s when the woman’s confidence began to waver.
— “For everyone’s comfort and safety, we’d like to offer a simple solution… you could switch seats.”
The woman’s face flushed.
— “I’m not moving because of him! I paid for this spot!”
The attendant turned to me and said gently,
— “If you’re okay with it, we can move you. There’s one seat available.”
— “Absolutely. If it makes things easier, I don’t mind,” I said.
The woman smiled smugly.
— “Perfect,” she said.
The attendant returned the smile—but this time to me.
— “The only available seat is in business class. You’ll have more space, a warm meal, and drinks. Please, follow me.”
I stood, and the cabin went quiet.
As I passed the woman, her face froze, then shifted into something between shock and irritation. She mumbled under her breath, but no one paid attention.
I settled into a wide, cushioned seat, wrapped myself in a blanket, and sipped hot tea with honey. A delicious dinner followed. The rest of the flight promised nothing but peace and comfort.