Flying from Seattle to Charlotte for my cousin’s wedding was supposed to be a relief, but it turned into an unexpected test of patience. The flight began with subtle taps against the back of my seat, growing into a persistent rhythm that was hard to ignore. I glanced back, expecting to see a child, only to find a young man in a hoodie, lost in his own world with AirPods in.
Politely, I leaned back and smiled. No response. I tried a firmer approach with a half-turn and a direct “Excuse me?” Still, he remained oblivious, as if my seat were merely an obstacle in his day.
I discreetly mentioned it to a flight attendant during the drink service. She assured me she would handle it, but her attempt to address the issue was met with a nonchalant denial from the man, claiming innocence despite the evident disruption.
