I was on a flight with my husband last night. We boarded and sat down, and I soon realized that this woman in the row behind us had her bare feet up on my husband’s seat. She was there with one of her friends. So my husband turned around and said something like, “Uh, do you think you could put your feet down?” I think they said something in response, but I didn’t hear it, and the woman’s feet didn’t go down. A few minutes later, my husband said, “Hey, will you get your feet off my chair? It’s extremely rude.” And still, she didn’t budge.
So I told my husband that he should find a flight attendant and get them to talk to this woman. He did exactly that, and after a couple of minutes, a flight attendant came and talked to the woman. She was obviously pretty peeved but begrudgingly agreed to put her feet down.
After the flight attendant left, she put her feet right back up.
At this point, I got angry. Why is it so important to you that you have your feet up on someone’s chair? You’re just being a brat.
I decided to teach her a lesson in a way that would hopefully make her rethink her actions. I had a few hours of flight time to ponder my options, and I was determined to find a way to express my frustration without causing a scene or making things uncomfortable for other passengers.
I considered a variety of approaches. Passive-aggressive notes were one idea, but they seemed too cliché and easy to dismiss. I thought about asking other passengers for their opinions, hoping to build a coalition of support, but I didn’t want to disturb anyone else’s flight experience. As I mulled over my options, I realized that I wanted to do something that would subtly highlight her rudeness and inconvenience her without direct confrontation.
The answer came to me when I remembered I had packed a small bottle of lavender essential oil in my carry-on. I use lavender oil for relaxing and calming purposes, but it also has a rather strong scent. My plan was simple: I would occasionally open the bottle and wave it near the woman’s feet, allowing the strong aroma to permeate the air around her. My hope was that the fragrance would be bothersome enough to make her reconsider her seating arrangement without causing too much distress.
With the plan in mind, I discreetly retrieved the bottle from my bag and waited for the right moment. When the cabin lights dimmed and passengers began settling in with their books and headphones, I slowly twisted open the bottle and let the scent waft around our seats. The fragrance was potent, as I had hoped, and I noticed the woman’s immediate reaction. She wrinkled her nose and shifted uncomfortably, glancing around as if trying to pinpoint the source of the smell.
I kept my composure, pretending to be engrossed in a magazine as I resealed the bottle. A few minutes later, when her feet crept back up onto my husband’s seat, I repeated the process. This time, her discomfort was more noticeable, and she exchanged whispered complaints with her friend. I saw her glance at me, trying to assess whether I was aware of the situation, but I maintained an air of innocence.
Finally, after a few rounds of this aromatic assault, the woman relented. She pulled her feet back, and I watched with satisfaction as she reluctantly tucked them onto the floor. I felt a sense of triumph, not just because her feet were no longer an annoyance, but because I had managed to stand up for my husband and myself in a clever, non-confrontational way.
The rest of the flight passed peacefully, and as we disembarked, I noticed the woman eyeing me with a mix of irritation and grudging respect. I hoped she had learned a small lesson in courtesy and self-awareness. As for me, I had discovered the power of creativity in tackling everyday rudeness, a lesson I would carry with me on future journeys.
