It was supposed to be a routine flight—14 hours in the sky, my mind wandering to the upcoming reunion with my family. But as soon as I boarded, I knew this trip was going to be anything but routine.
Hey, I’m Toby. Thirty-five years old, and this story starts with me, the grumpy guy just trying to get some peace on a long flight home. Little did I know, the newlyweds in the seat next to me had different plans.
I’d splurged on a premium economy seat because let’s be honest, when you’re locked in a metal tube for over half a day, every extra inch of space counts. I was ready to kick back and relax—until I met Dave and his wife, Lia.
Dave slid into the seat next to me, looking every bit the part of a guy who wasn’t used to public transportation. His clothes screamed “expensive,” and his smile? It was the kind of grin you flash when you think you can charm your way out of anything.
“Hey there,” Dave greeted me, leaning toward my armrest. “I’m Dave. So, uh, I was wondering—could you switch seats with my wife? She’s in economy, and, you know, we just got married.”
I smiled, trying to be polite. “That’s great, man. Congrats! Where’s your wife sitting?”
He gestured to the back of the plane. “She’s in economy.”
Now, I’m not heartless. I get it. Newlyweds want to be close. But I’d paid good money for this seat, and I wasn’t about to give it up for free. I looked at Dave, thinking it over.
“Look, Dave,” I said, keeping it friendly but firm. “I paid extra for this seat because I really need the comfort. But if you want to cover the difference, about a thousand Australian dollars, I’d be happy to switch.”
His face immediately darkened. “A thousand bucks? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I shrugged, trying to hide my amusement. “Sorry, buddy. That’s the deal. Otherwise, I’m staying put.”
And with that, I slid on my earbuds, settling in, ready to ignore the tension. But I caught the tail end of a muttered threat as he stomped away. “You’ll regret this,” he hissed.
I wasn’t sure how that was going to play out, but it wouldn’t be long before I found out.
The coughing started first. Not the casual kind, but full-on hacking that felt like he was trying to cough up his lungs. It wasn’t just one or two coughs; it was a full-blown, explosive fit.
“You good there, Dave?” I asked, trying to keep my irritation in check.
“Never better,” he wheezed, and then started another round of coughing.
Great. At this rate, I might need to quarantine myself in the bathroom. But things didn’t stop there. Oh no, it got better.
Dave whipped out his tablet and started blasting an action movie. No headphones. Just full volume, like we were all his captive audience.
The couple across the aisle shot us a glare. “Hey, buddy,” the guy said to Dave, clearly annoyed, “mind turning that down?”
“Oh, sorry, forgot my headphones,” Dave replied with a grin. “Guess we’ll all have to enjoy the movie together.”
I could feel my patience wearing thin. “Dave, come on. This isn’t cool.”
He leaned in, his eyes glinting with a challenge. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I making you uncomfortable? That must be awful.”
I bit my tongue, not wanting to escalate it further. But as if on cue, Dave started eating pretzels in a way that could only be described as reckless. Crumbs rained down on my lap like he was hosting a food fight.
