After days of hard work, I boarded a flight, craving peace and a good movie. But tranquility vanished when the young woman
in front of me tossed her long hair over my tray table, blocking my screen. I politely asked her to move it—she did, but ten minutes later, it was back.
Trying to avoid conflict, I leaned forward again. She ignored me. Something in me snapped.
Quietly, I chewed three pieces of gum and carefully placed them in her hair, strand by strand.
Fifteen minutes later, she sensed something was wrong. Panicking, she tried to remove the gum.
Without looking away from my screen, I said, “This is the result of your arrogance.” She shouted,
“You’re insane!” I replied, “And you’re disrespectful. You have two options: cut your hair later, or let me help with my manicure scissors now.”
She froze. I leaned in and warned, “Next time, you’ll be bald. I’m very precise—even in turbulence.”
The rest of the flight, she sat still, her hair tightly in a bun. I finally enjoyed my movie in peace.
Maybe it wasn’t the kindest solution, but it bought me the silence I needed—and made sure she respected my space.
