A mean stranger on a flight had everyone on edge, from her fellow passengers to the flight attendants! She kept ruffling feathers, mistreating people, and taking liberties as she wished! However, little did she know that she was going to leave the plane in tears!
An upset woman wearing headset while screaming on a flight | Source: Freepik
Hi all, Miranda here. I have a story to share with you about a stranger who misbehaved on a flight thinking she could get away with it. But me and my fellow passengers put her in her place!
See, I’ve been traveling quite a lot lately, but my most recent flight has to have been the craziest! I generally tend to book rows six or seven when I can because they aren’t too expensive. The other thing I like about the rows is that they’re close enough to the front to make them convenient.
A woman on a phone seated next to a man on a plane | Source: Freepik
Today, while walking through the congested aisles of the plane, I settled into what I believed was my assigned seat, 7D. On my way out, I was in 7F, and in my mind, I believed 7D was my return seat.
Mistakes happen, especially when you’re a frequent flyer like me who can’t seem to keep track of seat assignments. It was a minor hiccup — or so I thought until she arrived.
An annoyed-looking woman holding luggage | Source: Freepik
As the woman approached to claim my row, she believed she had the aisle seat. Without noticing that I was in the wrong row, I told her, “No, that’s my seat,” and politely stood up to let her in.
However, I eventually realized when the row became congested that I had misread my ticket. But the correction was met with unexpected vehemence.
“YOU ARE THAT STUPID THAT YOU CHOSE the wrong seat!” she screamed, her face contorted with irritation.
I scrambled to retrieve my bag, attempting to calm the brewing storm. But my sincere apologies fell on deaf ears. “People like YOU should not be allowed on flights!” she ranted.
A woman holding a phone while seated on a plane | Source: Pexels
Not wanting to worsen the situation, I said nothing as I scurried to my correct row. Little did I know that her bad behavior was about to get worse!
Her temper was a fuse, lit and unstoppable! Within less than ten minutes of peace, after we ascended, her barrage began. She yelled at a flight attendant, “This meal is atrocious! How dare you serve this?” over food SHE CHOSE HERSELF before hurling the plastic tray like a frisbee!
It wasn’t just the objects she threw; words, sharp and cutting, followed each action. Each utterance and behavior was more shocking than the last! No one was safe as she attacked, dissed, and threw tantrums at flight attendants and other passengers alike!
A plate of food on a flight | Source: Unsplash
A nearby passenger tried to intervene, “Hey, calm down, lady. There’s no need to treat people like that,” only to receive a splash of water and a tirade. “You think you can ignore ME? I’ll show you what happens!” she shrieked, punctuating her rage with kicks to his seat.
Literally, everyone on the flight hated this woman’s guts!
The cabin was aghast, whispers swirling like a storm. “Can you believe her?” “Somebody should do something!” The tension was palpable, a collective breath held in anticipation of her next outburst.
A flight attendant walking on a plane | Source: Pexels
As the flight drew on, the guy in front of me, the one who got soaked, passed me a note. He’d quietly hatched a plan and was trying to get the other passengers on board. My face lit up with a smirk as I read the note that said:
“Read and pass it on when she gets up to go to the exit, upon landing we’ll get up and see her off shouting…”
The rest of the note instructed us to shout, “Passenger 7D, you are unbearable. Learn to behave, not like a Neanderthal!” I won’t lie, I giggled a bit as I read the note!
A woman reading a note | Source: Pexels
At that moment, I knew the rude woman wasn’t going to get away with her messy ways as I passed the note on! Words and notes between the rest of the passengers passed along in hurried whispers.
We were united by circumstance, an impromptu alliance formed at 30,000 feet! The excitement among us was so palpable. I wondered, “Does this woman notice that something’s happening around her?”
But she remained oblivious, too focused on being mean to see the obvious.
Flight attendants dealing with passengers | Source: Unsplash
Our conspiratorial spirits lifted as the wheels touched down! The woman quickly stood, presumably to make a swift exit without being deterred by the rest of us. But just before leaving someone got up in front of her, obstructing her way.
This stopped us from our plan as she was now amid another hysteria. Suddenly, an unexpected hero turned up to save us all! The main pilot had made his way towards her and unknown to her, he was standing right behind her.
An upset woman standing with her luggage | Source: Freepik
Speaking loudly to get her immediate attention, he says, “I apologize for all the inconvenience you’ve suffered on this flight.” Thinking she was going to get away with all the abuse she’d exposed us to, some of us wanted to speak up.
But the pilot held his hand up. A smile flashed across the woman’s face for a moment. “For the inconvenience, you will be given a discount on your next flight with our airlines.” At this moment the hysterical woman speaks, saying:
“Yes, and I also want to be transferred to business class and get my money back for this flight.”
A rude woman pointing at someone | Source: Freepik
But the next moment she turns pale when he says “Woman, did you think I was addressing you? Noooo, I was talking to other passengers.” Facing her directly he added, “But something else awaits you.”
He continued, “Upon arrival, airport security is already waiting for you. Someone told them that you managed to bring dangerous objects onto the plane.” The shock on her face mimicked the expressions we all had!
A shocked woman | Source: Getty Images
“And if you don’t apologize RIGHT NOW, I will make sure that you are blacklisted as a passenger and you will no longer be able to fly!” he insisted to our delight!
Looking back at the people she was sitting with on the plane, including the flight attendants, it was obvious she was torn. Her face, once twisted in anger, crumpled under the weight of the reprimand.
A pilot standing in front of a flight attendant | Source: Freepik
At that moment, it became clear that she was human like the rest of us and could feel pain as well!
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she said softly, “I am sorry for how I behaved during the flight and I promise to do better in future.” Looking up at the pilot, he flicked his head in the direction of the exit, as to say, “Apology sufficient, you may leave.”
The woman rushed towards the exit. Each step hastened until she was running out!
A woman’s mascara running as she cries | Source: Getty Images
As silence fell and we collected ourselves, there was a surreal moment of reflection. The ordeal had transformed us, passengers bound by an unwelcome drama into a united group determined to get revenge.
We exchanged looks of disbelief and relief; the shared adversity had morphed into an unlikely bond. The collective was finally free from our tormentor! Seeing the glee on the faces of the flight attendants and the other passengers the woman had harassed, we couldn’t help but give a collective shout!
People clapped their hands at our victory, and it felt like justice was served that day!
A pilot shaking hands with a passenger | Source: Pexels
As we got off the plane, each person either shook the pilot’s hand or gave him a warm hug!
Waiting for my baggage I realized that the flight exemplified the highs and lows of human nature. It was a reminder of the thin line between order and chaos. In the crowded confines of a plane, we navigated more than just the skies by traversing the complex landscape of societal norms.
I felt proud to be a human being that day, and what started as a bad flight, ended off on a high note (pun intended)!
A happy woman seated at the airport | Source: Pexels
Well, that nasty woman seems to have gotten exactly what she deserves! In the following story, another rude woman gets put in her place when she tries bullying a young boy on the subway. Read on for all the delicious drama and the link to the story has more thrilling tales inside!
Sassy Mom Picks on Teen in Subway – The Boy’s Mother Put the Stranger in Her Place!
Let’s dive into the drama that unfolded one unusually warm spring afternoon. So, Sabrina was just chilling on her daily subway commute, navigating the sweet spot of crowdedness—enough people to feel the city vibe, but still some breathing room.
A woman sitting on the subway | Source: Pexels
Now, picture this: At the back of the subway car, there’s this kid, around 11 or 12, totally zoned out into his phone. He’s sitting in one of those priority seats meant for the elderly or those with disabilities.
Enter stage right, a woman bursts through the subway doors, towing a little kid in tow, and spots the boy in the seat. Her glare could’ve melted steel, but the boy? Oblivious, still glued to his screen.
A woman holding a child about to board the subway | Source: Pexels
Cue the confrontation. The woman strides up, launching into a tirade about the boy taking up a reserved seat when he seems perfectly fit. The subway audience is all ears, almost siding with her, until—plot twist—the boy’s mom steps in.
Calm yet fierce, she hints at an impending regret for the accuser. The boy then reveals his prosthetic limb, silencing the car in one swift motion. The angry woman, now embarrassed, beats a hasty retreat at the next stop.
A boy using his phone while seated | Source: Pexels
This unexpected subway saga leaves everyone, including Sabrina, musing on how quick we are to judge without knowing the full story. It’s a reminder that behind every scene in the bustling backdrop of city life, there’s often more than meets the eye. How’s that for a slice of daily drama?
An embarrassed woman on the subway | Source: Freepik
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
I Opened a Mysterious Door in My Cellar—Now I Regret Everything
I never believed in hidden doors or secret rooms; those were things from mystery stories. But when Florence and I decided to renovate our cellar, we found more than just a door behind the old wallpaper. It was something we were never meant to discover, and now, I wish I had never opened it.
You never truly understand a house until you’ve lived in it for some time. That’s what I always believed. Florence and I bought this old Victorian house five years ago. We called it our dream home. It had history, charm, and unique details, the kind of house with a past you could feel in every room.
When we started the renovation project, we thought we knew what we were getting into. The cellar was dark, damp, and unused. Peeling wallpaper and cracked tiles told us it hadn’t been touched in years. But we were excited about turning it into a useful space, maybe a wine cellar or storage room. That’s when we noticed something odd—a section of the wall that didn’t match the rest.
I never believed in hidden doors or secret rooms; those were things from mystery stories. But when Florence and I decided to renovate our cellar, we found more than just a door behind the old wallpaper. It was something we were never meant to discover, and now, I wish I had never opened it.
You never truly understand a house until you’ve lived in it for some time. That’s what I always believed. Florence and I bought this old Victorian house five years ago. We called it our dream home. It had history, charm, and unique details, the kind of house with a past you could feel in every room.
When we started the renovation project, we thought we knew what we were getting into. The cellar was dark, damp, and unused. Peeling wallpaper and cracked tiles told us it hadn’t been touched in years. But we were excited about turning it into a useful space, maybe a wine cellar or storage room. That’s when we noticed something odd—a section of the wall that didn’t match the rest.
In the back corner, we found something even stranger: an old wooden chest, covered in dust and cobwebs. It was locked, but the lock seemed weak, like it could easily break. Florence begged me to leave it alone, but I was too curious. I forced it open, and what I saw made my heart race.
Inside were old documents, letters written in a language I didn’t understand, and something wrapped in a faded cloth. When I unwrapped it, I froze. It was a small, strange object that didn’t belong in this world. Florence screamed and ran out of the cellar, terrified.
I should have followed her, but I was too deep into it. I put everything back in the chest and closed the door, but the feeling that something had changed wouldn’t leave me. Since that day, things have been different. Strange noises, cold drafts, and shadows moving where they shouldn’t.
Now, I regret opening that door. Florence refuses to go back into the cellar, and I can’t sleep at night. I don’t know what we uncovered, but I fear we’ve let something into our home that we can’t control. Every day, I wish I had just left the door hidden behind the wallpaper, where it belonged.
Now, the cellar remains locked. I’ve sealed the door with heavy boards, hoping that will keep whatever we disturbed at bay. Florence refuses to go near it, and our once happy home feels suffocating with the tension between us. It’s like the house itself has changed, like it’s watching us.
At night, I hear whispers coming from the floor below. I try to convince myself it’s just the wind or my imagination, but deep down, I know something’s wrong. The object I found in the chest haunts my thoughts—I’ve hidden it away, but it’s like it calls to me. Florence says I need to get rid of it, but I’m too afraid to touch it again.
I tried contacting the previous owners, but they didn’t know anything about the hidden room. They had lived here briefly before selling the house. No one in the neighborhood seems to know its history, and records of the house are vague. It’s like this part of the house was meant to stay forgotten.
I keep telling myself everything will be fine if I just leave it alone, but the strange occurrences are getting worse. Lights flicker, doors creak open on their own, and sometimes, I catch glimpses of something moving in the dark corners. It feels like the house is alive—angry that we disturbed its secret.
Florence is talking about moving, and maybe she’s right. But part of me knows that whatever we let out, whatever we disturbed, might not stay behind. And now, I wonder if sealing that door was just the beginning of something far more terrifying.
I never should have opened that door.
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