“Then let them breathe in your own seat.”
He gave me a smug little grin. “It’s an airplane. We’re all sharing space.”
He glanced at my other arm, apparently convinced that his comfort mattered more than mine.
“So use your other armrest and don’t bother me.”
He replaced his headphones, wiggled his toes, and I faced forward.
Ten minutes later, turbulence sent his toes brushing my sleeve. I turned back.
“Seriously. Move your foot.”
He let out a dramatic sigh, as though I were the unreasonable one.
“Lady, it’s just a foot. You’re acting like I put it on your dinner plate.”
The woman sitting beside me wrinkled her nose.
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