At Las Vegas Airport, I witnessed an entitled woman’s shocking behavior with her dog. Little did she know, her actions would set off a chain of events that would leave us both questioning the nature of justice and karma.
I arrived at Las Vegas Airport at 6:30 a.m., bleary-eyed and desperate for coffee. As I trudged towards my gate, I spotted a woman with a small dog on a leash. She was engrossed in a FaceTime call, oblivious to her surroundings.
“Oh my God, Stacey, you won’t believe what happened last night,” she shrieked into her phone.
I rolled my eyes and was about to move on when I noticed her dog squatting down. Right there on the airport floor.
“Excuse me, miss?” A middle-aged man nearby tried to get her attention. “Your dog is…”
The woman shot him a glare that could’ve melted steel. “Some people are just so damned rude,” she complained to her friend on the phone.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The dog finished its business, and the woman started walking away, leaving the mess behind.
“You’re not going to clean that up?” another bystander asked, shock evident in her voice.
The woman turned, her face twisted in disgust. “They have people for that,” she snapped. Then, she spotted an airport cleaner nearby. Her voice dripped with entitlement as she yelled, “Do your job! I’m not going to do it for you!”
The young airport worker, a guy probably in his early twenties, looked stunned. His face flushed red as he stammered, “Ma’am, I… that’s not… you’re supposed to…”
But the woman had already turned, disappearing into the crowd. The worker stood there, looking utterly deflated. He glanced around as if hoping someone would tell him this was all a bad joke.
I couldn’t stay silent anymore. I approached him, saying, “Hey, you okay? That woman was way out of line.”
He sighed. “Thanks. I just… I don’t even know how to handle that. It’s not even my department.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I assured him. “We saw the whole thing. It’s not your fault.”
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He nodded gratefully and hurried off, probably to find someone who could actually deal with the mess.
My blood boiled. Who did this woman think she was?
I approached the mess, warning people to watch their step. A kind stranger went to find a maintenance worker.
“Can you believe that?” I asked the man who’d tried to alert the woman earlier.
He shook his head. “Flying with pets is a privilege, not a right. Some people just don’t get it.”
“I’m Nora,” I said, extending my hand.
“Jasper,” he replied, shaking it. “Heading somewhere nice?”
“London, for work. You?”
“Tokyo. Business trip.”
We chatted for a few minutes before parting ways. I couldn’t shake my anger as I walked to my gate. And then I saw her again.
The entitled woman was sitting near my gate, her dog now barking incessantly. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she was blasting music from her phone without headphones.
Other passengers were moving away, but I had a different idea. I sat down right next to her.
“Are you going to Tokyo on business?” I asked, faking a friendly tone.
She barely glanced at me. “I’m going to London,” she snapped.
I widened my eyes in mock surprise. “Oh no! Then you better hurry. That flight got moved to gate 53C. This is the flight to Tokyo.”
Her eyes bulged. Without even checking the monitor, she grabbed her bags and dog and stormed off.
I couldn’t help but grin. The gate monitor still clearly showed “London,” but she was too self-absorbed to notice.
As boarding time approached, I kept an eye out for her return. The final call came and went, but there was no sign of her or her yappy dog.
I settled into my seat, feeling a strange combination of satisfaction and guilt. As the plane began to taxi, I realized she must have missed the flight.
The woman next to me smiled. “First time flying to London?”
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