Karma at 30,000 Feet

I waved down a flight attendant, who took one look at the chaos and sighed.
“Is there a problem, sir?” she asked.

“Oh, just the usual,” I said dryly. “Coughing, crumbs, and lap-sitting. I’m not sure if this is a flight or their honeymoon highlight reel.”

Dave jumped in. “We’re newlyweds! We just want to sit together!”

The flight attendant’s professional smile vanished. “You cannot sit on each other’s laps—it’s a safety violation. Both of you, please return to your assigned seats.”

Dave blinked. “Both of us?”

“Yes. You’ll be moved to the back of the plane for disruptive behavior.”

As they gathered their things, I couldn’t resist. “Enjoy your honeymoon in economy.”

The passengers around me snickered.
Once they were gone, the older man beside me leaned over. “Well played, son. Kids these days forget there’s a difference between love and public nuisance.”

Moments later, the attendant returned with a mini whiskey and cola. “Compliments of the crew,” she said with a wink.
I raised it like a toast. “To peaceful flights and karma.”

The cabin laughed, the tension dissolved, and for the first time in hours, I could finally relax.

Somewhere over the Pacific, turbulence hit. From the back, a yelp echoed—Dave, no doubt losing his drink. I smirked. “Guess karma doesn’t skip leg day.”

When we finally landed, I spotted my wife and kid waiting at arrivals. Dave and Lia were still arguing behind me, and I just smiled.
That flight had been a nightmare—but also a reminder: sometimes patience, boundaries, and a little poetic justice can turn chaos into calm.