A girl on the plane tossed her hair over my tray table and blocked my screen — so I gave her a lesson in manners
After days of grinding through intense work, I finally boarded a flight — a much-needed escape. I had one goal: sit back, switch off my brain, and enjoy a quiet movie midair. Just a few hours of peace.
But that fantasy unraveled as soon as the plane began taxiing.
The passenger in front of me — a young woman, early twenties at most — settled into her seat and, without warning, flung her long, thick hair over the back of it. It draped directly across my tray table, blocking my entire screen.
Trying to avoid conflict, I gently tapped her shoulder and politely asked her to move her hair. She gave a quick, casual apology and pulled it back.
Crisis seemingly resolved.
Until ten minutes later, her hair was right back in my space, like nothing had happened. This time, when I asked again — softer, but firmer — she didn’t respond. No acknowledgment, no movement. She simply pretended I didn’t exist.
That’s when something inside me snapped. I wasn’t going to raise my voice or make a scene — I had no interest in mid-flight drama.
But I also wasn’t going to be ignored.
So I reached into my bag, took out three sticks of gum, and began chewing them—calmly, patiently, one after the other. Once they were nice and sticky, I quietly started embedding the gum into strands of her hair. One piece at a time. No anger, just methodical silence.
Fifteen minutes later, she must’ve sensed something was off. She turned, touched her hair—and froze.
“What… is… this?!” she shrieked, frantically trying to peel the gum free.
Without taking my eyes off my screen, I replied evenly, “That’s what disrespect looks like.”
“You’re insane!” she snapped.
“And you,” I said, still watching my film, “are rude. You’ve got two choices: sit through the rest of this flight and cut your hair off later, or I can help now. I have small scissors in my bag — manicure ones. Want me to assist?”
Her face went pale.
I leaned forward and, in a whisper just above the engine noise, said:
“If you toss your hair back here again, you’ll land with half your head shaved. I’m steady, even in turbulence.”
She didn’t say a word. Just pulled her hair up into the tightest bun imaginable and didn’t move again for the rest of the flight.
I finally relaxed, hit play, and enjoyed my movie — hair-free and in complete peace.