They say revenge is a dish best served cold, but mine came served at room temperature in a family-sized bag.
As a teenage giant, I’m used to cramped flights. But when Mr. Recliner decided my knees were his personal footrest, traditional diplomacy failed. The flight attendant’s attempt? Also failed.
Then inspiration struck in the form of mom’s snack bag. Through creative chewing angles and strategic “sneezes”, I turned his designer suit into a crumb canvas. His dramatic seat adjustment proved what I suspected all along – some people only understand the language of petty inconvenience.
Mom’s final verdict? “Next time, bring Cheetos.”
