I fully reclined my seat on a 9-hour flight.
The every pregnant woman behind started pushing my seat and nagging that she didn’t have legroom.
I told her, “If you want luxury, buy business!” She went quiet.
As we landed, the flight attendant said, “Sir, check your bag.” When I opened it, I was shocked to discover a used diaper—wet, smelly, and clearly thrown in out of spite.
Passengers nearby gasped, some chuckled uncomfortably, and I froze, the reality sinking in. The pregnant woman walked past me slowly, her belly leading the way, and without even turning her head, she muttered just loud enough for me to hear, “Enjoy your economy experience.”
I was speechless. The flight attendant raised an eyebrow at me, clearly judging the situation. I stammered, “T-this wasn’t mine!” But no one cared. People were already reaching for their overhead luggage.
As I exited the plane, clutching my now-contaminated bag at arm’s length, I replayed the moment I reclined my seat—so confident, so smug. I’d won the battle… but clearly, she’d won the war.
I never saw her again, but I did learn one thing: never start a seat war with someone who’s been through labor pain. They’ve already conquered worse.