Perceiving their arrogance, I relinquished my seat with feigned acquiescence, already strategizing my next course of action.
Subsequently, a flight attendant revealed that the couple had been dishonest—both of their tickets were for row 12. I relayed the circumstances to the chief purser, who then confronted them. Their self-satisfied demeanor shattered when the woman panicked and confessed that they were not even married—she was his mistress.
By the conclusion of the flight, their sense of entitlement had transformed into embarrassment. As I disembarked from the plane, I could not suppress a smirk. Justice had been served, and I had restored my dignity without lowering myself to their standards.
