A few years back, I was set to embark on a journey to Canada. Midway through the exhilarating flight, I was rudely awakened by the incessant kicking of the person behind me against my seat. At first, I assumed it was the doing of a kid and so I simply chose to overlook it.
After a few minutes of that unrelenting kicking, I finally turned around and what I saw was a guy in his mid-twenties. His face was a mask of insolence.
Me: *Politely yet firmly* “Can you please stop kicking my seat?” I could hear him and his friends snickering away, muttering something in a language that I couldn’t quite make out. He paused for a moment, as if considering, but then promptly resumed his kicking.
Fed up, I reached for my water bottle. Slowly and deliberately, I emptied half of it right onto the top of his backpack, which was conveniently tucked beneath my seat. I could almost sense his shock and panic when we finally touched down at the destination. And it was oh-so satisfying.
Just the thought of that smug look on his face turning into one of utter disbelief and dismay was a balm to my soul. It was a small act of payback in a world where sometimes we have to stand up for ourselves and our rights. And that moment of seeing him squirm in discomfort was a victory in my eyes.
Life on that flight that day was never the same again. I carried that memory with me, a reminder that we shouldn’t always tolerate disrespect and that we have the power to assert ourselves when needed. It was a small but significant chapter in my travel adventures.
