An affluent man becomes displeased with being seated next to a corpulent woman in first class and begins to voice his complaints to the flight attendant.
The instant James Courtney spotted the woman seated beside him on the flight, he knew it was going to be a rough one. She was enormous! With her seated next him, how in the world was he going to travel in comfort?
The woman took a seat, jabbing at James with her elbow as she fastened her seat belt. “Observe it!” She turned to face James as he aggressively yelled at her.
She sobbed, “Oh, I’m so sorry. Please pardon me.”
“Pardon me?” sarcastically questioned James. Or pardon the three thousand doughnuts you consumed to reach that weight?
The woman gave him a startled gasp, and James noticed that she was rather young with a weak but sweet face. He was inspired to scoff, “Lady, you need to book TWO seats when you travel!”
The woman’s eyes welled up with tears, but James was in the mood, especially after noticing how cheap and dated her clothes were and how worn out her shoes were.
“I assume your entire budget goes on nachos and hot dogs, right?” he asked. So you’re not able to afford two seats? The next time you pass the hat, I’m sure everyone on the plane will be quite giving!
The woman turned to face the window, and James saw the tears streaming down her cheeks in the reflection. He said, “Listen.” “I’m sure my friend who owns a clinic down in Mexico would give you a liposuction for a lot less money!”
By the time James felt his discomfort from being pressed up against her soft weight had subsided, the young woman’s shoulders were quivering with sobs. He thus requested a Martini when the bartender arrived with the drinks cart.
In his best James Bond voice, he said, “Shaken, not stirred,” and then, “I don’t know what Moby Dick here will drink.”
The attractive attendant gave him a snide look while pressing her lips together tightly. Next, she spoke to the woman seated beside her. “Madam, what would you like to drink?”
With a nod, the woman dabbed at her eyes. “Please, give me a diet Coke.”
James sneered. “Don’t you think a diet Coke would be a little late in the game?” Though James felt a slight glow upon realizing he’d upset both the flight attendant and the woman, they both chose to ignore him.
While the woman next to him sipped her diet Coke, he reclined and bit on an olive and sipped his Martini. With a shudder, he realized she would eventually need to use the restroom and would be squeezing by him.
Shortly after he had finished his last drink, the flight attendant arrived carrying food. She placed a lovely tray in front of him and another one in front of the passenger next him.
“Are you certain that will suffice?” The flight attendant was asked by James, “Why do you think it would take a village to feed this lady?”
Disregarding him, the flight attendant continued serving the other first-class customers. “She really was impolite, wasn’t that?” James questioned the person seated beside him, saying, “I think I’ll complain about her.”
However, the other traveler disregarded him as well, and James proceeded to enjoy the genuinely superb meal. When the flight attendant returned, he was finishing the last of his wine, and she was beaming.
“Pardon me,” she began. “The captain would love to have you come up to the cockpit. He’s a big fan.”
After being startled, James noticed that the large woman sitting next to him was being spoken to by the flight attendant. She was flushing, nodding, and smiling. This implied that James needed to stand up and give her space.
After guiding the woman off of the aircraft, James resumed his seat. He expected to be forwarding a good deal of venomous emails concerning the first class service and conditions on the company’s flights to the management.
When the captain’s voice came over the speakers, he was mentally crafting some great diatribes. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said. One of us is a celebrity! You will recognize the voice if, like me, you are an avid listener of “I Love Opera.”
When a beautiful voice began singing a few bars of a well-known aria in the cabin, the other passengers began to applaud and make joyful comments to one another. “That’s correct,” declared the captain. “We’re flying with the lovely Miss Allison Jones to perform a charity concert for world hunger.”
James winced as the entire aircraft broke into spontaneous applause. The flight attendant then approached. “Listen up, buster,” she replied in a harsh, icy tone. “I’m putting you in economy if you upset that girl again, no matter how many millions you have.”
James noticed the sparkle in the flight attendant’s eye as he opened his mouth to object. “I apologize,” he muttered.
“You don’t have to apologize to me!” said she.
After some time, Allison Jones, the large woman, reappeared, grinning and signing autographs for the other travelers. James shot to his feet to give her room to sit.
He smiled his most endearing smile and said, “Listen.” “I apologize if I offended you a little; I didn’t know who you were.”
James saw that Allison had the most stunning eyes when she turned to face him. It makes no difference who I am. Never, ever treat someone that way! Furthermore, you’re not sorry. If I wasn’t sort of famous, would you even be saying sorry? I mean, I can’t control my weight, but you can alter your mindset. Give up passing judgment on others.
James stopped talking, lowered himself back into his chair, and remained silent until their arrival in Portland.
I Walked Out on My Wife at a Restaurant During Our 10th Anniversary – Her Mother Advised Me to Seek a Divorce After Learning the Reason
“Everything okay?” I asked as we sat down.
Fiona glanced up, startled. “Oh, yeah. Just checking something quick.”
I nodded, trying to hide my disappointment. This was supposed to be our special night, but she seemed a million miles away.
The waiter appeared with menus. “Can I interest you in our anniversary special? A bottle of champagne to start?”
“That sounds perfect,” I said, smiling at Fiona. “What do you think, honey?”
She was staring at her phone again. “Hm? Oh, sure. Whatever you want.”
I sighed and ordered the champagne. As the waiter walked away, I reached across the table and gently touched Fiona’s hand.
“Hey, can we maybe put the phones away? It’s our anniversary.”
Fiona looked guilty. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just this new video series I found —”
I tried to keep the irritation out of my voice. “Another prank channel?”
“They’re hilarious, Aidan! You should see some of these —”
I tuned out as she launched into a description of the latest viral prank. My mind wandered back to the past few weeks, and I felt my stomach tighten.
It had started innocently enough, Fiona showing me funny videos on her phone, and both of us laughing. But then she’d started trying to recreate them at home.
There was the time she jumped out from behind the shower curtain, nearly giving me a heart attack. The fake spider in Nora’s lunchbox that made our daughter cry. The “broken” glass prank that left Callum afraid to touch anything in the kitchen for days.
Each time, Fiona would laugh it off. “It’s just a joke!” she’d say. “Don’t be so serious!”
But I’d seen the fear in our kids’ eyes, felt the constant tension in my own shoulders. It wasn’t funny anymore. It was exhausting.
I snapped back to the present as the waiter returned with our champagne. Fiona was still talking, gesturing animatedly about some YouTuber’s latest stunt.
Fiona stood up abruptly. “I need to use the restroom. Be right back.”
I watched her walk away, a sense of unease growing in my stomach. Something felt off.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted behind me. I turned to see Fiona stumbling between tables, clutching her throat.
“I can’t breathe!” she gasped, falling to her knees. “Help me!”
The restaurant erupted in chaos. People rushed to her side, calling for help. I sat frozen, unable to process what was happening.
Then Fiona started laughing. “Just kidding!” she announced, getting to her feet. “It was a prank!”
The silence that followed was deafening. I felt the eyes of every patron boring into me. Fiona grinned, oblivious to the horror on everyone’s faces.
“Ma’am, that was extremely inappropriate,” the manager said, approaching our table. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
I stood up, grabbing my coat. “I’m leaving,” I said, my voice tight with anger. “Without my wife. You can get an Uber home on your own,” I informed her.
Fiona’s smile faltered. “Aw, come on. It was just a joke!”
I didn’t even respond. I couldn’t even look at her. I rushed out to the car and made off before she had time to respond — besides, she needed to settle the bill anyway.
As soon as I got home, I headed for the kids’ rooms. “Pack a bag,” I told Nora and Callum. “We’re going to Uncle Declan’s for a bit.”
An hour later, I was knocking on my brother’s door, two sleepy kids in tow. Declan took one look at my face and ushered us inside without a word.
“Guest room’s all yours,” he said, helping me with the bags. “Want to talk about it?”
I shook my head. “Not tonight. Thanks, bro.”
My phone buzzed incessantly with messages from Fiona. I ignored them all and tried to sleep.
The next morning, I woke to find 37 missed calls and twice as many texts. I scrolled through them, my anger reigniting.
“You’re overreacting.”
“It was just a joke!”
“How could you embarrass me like that?”
“You owe me an apology.”
I tossed the phone aside, disgusted. How could she not see how wrong she was?
As if on cue, my phone rang again. This time, it was Greta, Fiona’s mom. I hesitated before answering.
“Aidan! What’s this I hear about you abandoning my daughter at a restaurant?” Greta’s voice was shrill with indignation.
I took a deep breath. “Hi, Greta. It’s not what you think.”
“Oh? Then explain it to me, young man. Because from where I’m standing, you left your wife alone on your anniversary. That’s pretty low.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on. “Fiona pulled a prank, Greta. A bad one. She pretended to choke in the middle of a crowded restaurant.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “She did what?”
I recounted the events of the previous night, including Fiona’s recent obsession with pranks and how it was affecting our family.
When I finished, Greta was quiet for a long moment. Then she sighed heavily. “Oh, Aidan. I had no idea it had gotten this bad.”
“Yeah, well. Now you know.”
“I… I don’t know what to say. If things are really this bad, I… I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted a divorce.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. Divorce? Is that where we were headed?
“I don’t know, Greta,” I said honestly. “I just need some time to think.”
After we hung up, I sat on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands. Was this really the end of our marriage?
I spent the day in a daze, mechanically going through the motions of caring for the kids. By evening, I’d made a decision.
I called Fiona. “Meet me at the restaurant tomorrow at 7 p.m. We need to talk.
She agreed immediately, sounding relieved. I hung up before she could say more.
The next night, I arrived at the restaurant early. My palms were sweaty as I clutched the envelope containing the divorce papers I’d had drawn up that afternoon.
Fiona walked in, looking smaller and more vulnerable than I’d ever seen her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her hair disheveled.
“Hi,” she said softly, as she took a seat alongside me.
“Hi,” I replied, my throat tight.
We sat in awkward silence for a moment. Then Fiona burst out, “Aidan, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you or the kids. I just got carried away with the pranks and —”
I held up a hand to stop her. Without a word, I slid the envelope across the table.
Fiona’s hands shook as she opened it. Her eyes widened as she realized what she was looking at.
“No,” she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Please, Aidan, no. We can work this out. I’ll stop the pranks, I promise. Please don’t leave me.”
I let her cry for a moment, my own eyes stinging. Then I took a deep breath.
“It’s a prank,” I said quietly.
Fiona’s head snapped up. “What?”
“The divorce papers. They’re not real. It’s a prank.”
Her mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out. I leaned forward, my voice intense.
“This is what it feels like, Fiona. This is how your pranks make us feel. Scared, hurt, betrayed. Is this what you want for our family?”
Fiona’s face crumpled. “No,” she sobbed. “God, no. I’m so sorry, Aidan. I never realized…”
I reached across the table and took her hand. “I love you, Fiona. But this has to stop. No more pranks. Ever. Can you promise me that?”
She nodded vigorously, squeezing my hand. “I promise. No more pranks. I’ll delete all those stupid videos. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
I exhaled slowly, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. “Okay,” I said. “Then let’s go home.”
As we stood to leave, Fiona hesitated. “Aidan? Thank you for not giving up on us.”
I pulled her into a hug, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair. “We’re in this together,” I murmured. “For better or worse, remember?”
She laughed softly, a sound I realized I’d missed. “I remember. Let’s aim for ‘better’ from now on, okay?”
I nodded, feeling cautiously optimistic for the first time in weeks. As we walked out of the restaurant hand in hand, I knew we had a long way to go. But at least now, we were on the same page.
And there wasn’t a prank in sight.
What would you have done?
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