Travel is hard enough as it is, so when someone is rude to you on a flight, it can turn a bad trip into a nightmare. These writers detail the absolute worst thing that someone has done to them on a flight.
“This happened last year on my return flight from a family trip to Hawaii. I had to go home early whilst my family got another two weeks of pina colada-infused bliss on Waikiki beach.
I had a morning flight and was still groggy from my 4am wake-up. I stumbled along with my carry on luggage down the aisle to my assigned seat. I stopped at my allocated row as lo and behold, all three seats were taken by a small family consisting of a cute little baby laying in the middle seat between her mother and father.
I quickly checked my ticket to ensure I didn’t misread my seat number due to a lack of sleep. As soon as I looked up, I made eye contact with the father and was asked whether I was sitting there. I nodded and the family proceeded to shuffle, with the baby sitting on her mother by the window and the father now in the middle.
As soon as I sat down in the aisle seat, I began to hear murmurs with passive aggressive tones from my new seat mates:
‘How smart of the airline to place someone next to us when we have a little baby.’ muttered the father.
‘We just got married and this is what we get? Where are we supposed to put the baby when she needs to sleep?’ whispered the wife.
The murmuring became louder as they continued to express their disgratitude with the seating arrangement. I put my headphones in to block out the sound of whining adults but it wasn’t too long before an air hostess was summoned by the father.
The parents proceeded to jointly rip into the air hostess with their complaints. In a nutshell, they expected to have a free seat for their baby and kept saying they just got married etc.
The air hostess was doing her best to reason with them both. She explained that normally babies were either held by their respective parents during the flight or were seated in a special area by request (you know, common sense). The parents weren’t having any of this, kept up their childish banter and made a scene. I could see the gazes of other passengers looking over at our row. The parents then threw in the ol’ ‘gonna write a complaint’ line and the air hostess sighed and excused herself.
She promptly returned, crouched by my side and asked whether I was happy to move seats. I think I shouted a yes at her and was quickly moved elsewhere.
I still can’t get over how parents expected their child to have a free seat and caused such a scene.”
What A Creep
“I graduated from high school a year early and went to college at sixteen years old. At Christmas break I flew home from Tennessee to Florida on my first commercial jet. I had flown before but on small single and twin engine airplanes so I was really looking looking forward to my first big jet.
Thankfully my Mom had booked a flight with no stop in Atlanta (back then in 1975 it was REALLY bad) thinking I wasn’t wasn’t ready for navigating a plane change. So when my last class was over I grabbed my bags and an older friend with a car drove me to the city to the airport. I was a bit shell shocked when my friend dropped me off but fortunately an airport employee pointed me towards where I needed to go. I got through check in and the gates, and found my way to where my flight would board.
I sat down in front of the huge windows with my one small suitcase and backpack and pulled out my book to read. I soon got lost in what I was reading until a man’s voice interrupted me. He plopped down with a briefcase in one hand and a drink in the other, very disheveled and it obviously wasn’t his first drink. He loudly asked me where I was headed and, not wanting to give out anything too personal I just shrugged and told him that I was going home for the holidays. I made a point of going back to my book and was soon immersed in the latest horror novel again. About ten minutes later the man interrupted me again wanting to know the time. Now he had a big, fancy watch on which I pointed out to him, and he quickly said that it was was broken. I gave him the time and I swear he licked his lips and said he was going to go get another drink and could he get me something. I politely said no thanks and he bent down and whispered LOUDLY that he would even ‘get me some of the hard stuff.’ I told him I didn’t drink. He finally walked away.
As soon as he left I got up and moved my things next to another young person — a guy, who was also reading a book. But about ten minutes later that guy comes back and when he sees I have moved he starts looking for me. When he finds me he comes over and asks me why I moved. I just told him that it was too noisy by the window. Well that’s a lie because you can’t hear anything through the thick glass windows. I thought my sarcastic answer would turn him off but no, he plops down in the seat next to me as close as he can. At this point I’m really creeped out. But at that moment they called for boarding and everyone started moving around.
There weren’t any passengers in wheelchairs and only a few in first class so they started boarding economy pretty soon. They board by rows and I could see ‘the man’ was a few rows behind me so I felt relieved. We all got on the plane and got situated and buckled up and eventually the plane took off. I was seated next to a nice older woman who introduced herself and we talked for a few minutes. I was a bit disappointed that I wasn’t next to the window. Once they said we could get up and leave our seats I went to the little bathroom.
When I came back out of the bathroom and went to my seat, there seated at the window was ‘the man!’ I thought I hadn’t gone far enough, so I walked a little farther but the rows were different. I went back and checked the number and sure enough, he was seated where the old lady had been. I walked back a few rows and there was the old lady. I asked her what was going on, and she said that the nice man said he was my father and would she mind changing seats, so we could sit together. I was really upset, so I motioned for the stewardess (Yes that’s what we called them back then) and she just LAUGHED IT OFF!! She said he was probably just a lonely old man, and we were friendly at the airport, so he wanted to sit with me.
So I went back to my seat like a hanged man to the gallows and tried to just make the best of it. I pulled out my book and tried to read but this prick wasn’t having any of that. He started talking and asking me all kinds of questions about myself to which I lied about or answered with as nasty a tone as possible. The straw that broke the camel’s back was when I looked over and saw the guy from the airport seated across the aisle looking at me. I started to roll my eyes when I felt a large hand on my thigh. It was rubbing up and down and heading towards my crotch.
At that point I lost all control. I grabbed his hand off my leg and hit him in the face then stood up screaming ‘This man is NOT MY FATHER! He’s trying to touch me! He put his hand on my leg and tried to touch me!’ at the top of my lungs! Over and over hysterically. Screaming that shrill animal scream. The stewardesses came running trying to get me to shut up. This prick tried to sink into the seat. I don’t remember much after that except they put me up in first class and told me that security would meet me at the gate.
The police were at the gate when I got off the plane in Florida. And my Mom and Dad were there. My Dad was a really big man — 6’6″ and 275lbs. When they brought that man through the doors, for a moment I thought my Dad was going after him.
I don’t really remember much of what happened after that. I know the airline gave us some free vouchers. We never used them. Years later the subject came up when my Mom and I were talking. She said the guy pled guilt to ATTEMPTED assault of a minor and got six months probation. My Dad wanted to go find him but she thought she had talked him out of it.”
What Awful Men
“It actually happened before we got on the plane. I was travelling alone from Toronto Canada to London Uk. I had loads of bags with me. I’d checked in my big suitcase but I also had my small suitcase, a backpack and a hold-all with me. My hold-all has my laptop and other electrical in it and I was terrified of it getting damaged. I got to the departure lounge early so I sat close to the door but also away from people. I picked an area that wasn’t crowded and saw one gentleman sitting there. He was sat the the middle of the row of seats, so I wanted to give him space. To his right there were three empty seats and to his left there were four. I went to the left and sat on the last seat, putting my electrical bag on the seat next to me and trying to keep all my bags in a little area around me. Normally I wouldn’t have put it on the seat but there were a lot of kids running around and I was worried my laptop would get kicked.
A man came over to where I was sitting and asked if anyone was sitting in the seat next to me/ my bag. It wasn’t clear which. There were a lot of other seats available with no one sitting next to them. I said no.
He sat down in the seat right next to my bag. His husband/ boyfriend joined him a few minutes later. They both look super grumpy.
The first guy turns to me and says ‘I thought you said someone was sitting there’
I said, ‘no, I told you no when you asked me’
’then why can’t you be less dumb and move your bag so I can sit there?’
‘Why? You could have sat anywhere else and I wanted to give the gentleman over there space and myself space’
Basically he wanted to sit in that seat. It wouldn’t mean not sitting next to anyone in any configuration of where he sat on the bench but he wanted that seat because reasons? There were loads of seats available where he and his partner could have sat with no one on either side of them. He basically started a massive tirade at me saying I saw stupid and a complete uneducated idiot who didn’t know anything in public. People looked at me and I have terrible anxiety, so I almost had a panic attack.
I don’t remember exactly what I said at that point because my fight or flight anxiety mode started going off and I got super dizzy. I do recall saying something like ‘yes, clearly I’m stupid and my science degree confirms it’. And then telling him to eff off when he wouldn’t stop bothering me.
I wanted to leave but I didn’t want to give in now as he’d been rude to me for no reason. I wasn’t hurting him, and he’d just started having a go at me over nothing. If he’d wanted me to move my bag he could have asked politely, but I was tired from travelling from my university in Peterborough to Toronto after a day of classes.
I got onto the plane and sat down.
Like ten minutes later the people behind me sit down and it’s the dude and his partner. They immediately start complaining about me and calling me a dumb slag etc. I started crying and called my mum to tell her what had happened.
May I also point out at this point that I was a 20-year-old lone student and these men were in their thirties. I just wanted a calm journey home.
I ended up talking to an air stewardess and telling her what had happened. I asked to move seats because I was so upset. She told me once we took off I could sit wherever I liked in the area of the plane, and she would keep an eye on them. I ended up able to sit in a row where a lady and I were the only people in a four-seater. We sat on the furthest points on their side, both napped, and she told me she’d be my travel mum and if they were mean again she’d tell them off.
Yes I didn’t need my bag on the seat but I’m always prepared to move my stuff if someone needs space. I have osteoarthritis, so I often can’t hold heavy things on my lap and my legs were in a lot of pain already, so I tend to put bags next to me instead. I also get paranoid of being robbed if I don’t have everything closer but to the side. I just feel safer when I can block my items in with my suitcase and I can hold onto the suitcase at the same time. I just don’t feel the men handled it fairly in response to what was happening.”
Three Minutes Early
“It actually happened in 2018, in Hartsfield Jackson Airport (Atlanta, Georgia), so the memory is still fresh, and still kind of bothers me to be candid. However, I wasn’t technically ‘on’ the plane, but I should have been.
I was consulting for a company I used to be employed by (I moved away and took another role, but they needed some help on a particular project) in Atlanta. I had gotten to the airport on time, checked my luggage, and then been subjected to a TSA experiment involving a sniffer dog. Because the process was new (at least in Atlanta, judging by the signs posted all over the darn place) it was naturally slower than I would’ve liked.
Anyway, I eventually got through the sniffer dog. Onto the X-ray. I made the grave error of bringing a video game console with me and putting it in my carry-on. Almost an hour later, they finally finished searching my backpack and carry-on. I had 6 minutes to get to my flight in one of the world’s busiest (and biggest) airports. I sprinted through my terminal…without socks wearing a pair of leather slippers…I could feel the blisters forming, and subsequently popping around the sides of my heels. Tons of fun. I got to the gate with 3 minutes to go…but only if you’re actually interested in schedules.
I’m running toward the door, with 3 full minutes until boarding ends. But it turns out that at least that day, those 3 minutes didn’t matter to the Delta employee. She saw me coming, stared me dead in the eye, and shut the door very nearly in my face (less than two feet from it anyway). She smirked, and internally I was irate. Rarely have I ever been that angry with an individual. I had worked nearly 70 hours that week, and hadn’t seen my wife or kids (including my newborn girl) in a week. However, in a brief moment of clarity, I remembered that I often can explain my situations and people are quite understanding. So I did, explained TSA hold up, my kids and wife thing, the whole deal. She was visibly unmoved. She asked me, ‘So you got held up by TSA?,’ and I responded, ‘yes ma’am, that’s why I’m running behind and I’d love to get home to my kids and I still have about a minute…I’ll run down and grab my seat.’ Her response came back, ‘The door is closed, once the door is closed I can’t open it. I guess you should leave earlier next time.’ I protested (I still have no idea of what she said was true, but I darn well knew she closed the door 3 minutes early), ‘Ma’am you closed the door 3 minutes early, I would have made it, but for that. That event was the proximate cause of me not being on the flight already!’ I said it calmly, but forcefully because I could see she didn’t give two craps and this was a last plea because the plane is leaving any second. She replied ‘Doesn’t matter. Can’t open the door. Be on time next time.’ The plane is moving…I’m cooked, no way I’m making it now…I’m also angry at this point. ‘Thank you ma’am, that was a pretty rotten thing to do.’ Walked off to a ‘Bye!’ from her. Went and complained immediately to customer service. My flight left around 3pm, which I, of course, missed. Then a storm moved in, flights were delayed and some cancelled; I landed around 1:30 am, and got home by 2am, had to be up again at 6am, all because of an employee who decided that for whatever reason, to close the door 3 minutes early and refuse me entrance.”
Newly Wed Show Down
“About 30 years ago, I was on a 6-hour nonstop flight that included a complimentary full dinner and a snack. The flight was fully booked, and we were on one of the first generation of passenger jets with extremely limited room between rows of seats. So even though I’m not tall, it was discouraging, right after takeoff, to have the young man in front of me immediately recline his seat back as far as it would go, which was very far on that particular craft. He wasn’t napping, either. He just wanted to have as much room as possible, so he could sit cross-legged and sideways in his seat facing his wife. She was seated next to him, and they were playing cards.
I had planned to read my book, but the man’s seat back was literally in my lap, and I had nowhere to hold my book, unless I held it in the aisle or in front of my seatmate, who had to contend with the seat back of the young man’s wife in his lap, though at least my seatmate was taller and the wife hadn’t lowered her seat back all the way.
When the flight attendant came around with drinks, she saw immediately that I couldn’t even lower my tray. She politely requested the young couple to put their seat backs in the upright position. The young woman complied immediately, and kept hers upright for the duration of the flight, but her husband made a fuss, complaining that he couldn’t sit comfortably that way, he had paid for his ticket, why did the seats recline if passengers couldn’t use them, etc. The flight attendant prevailed, but as soon as she and the drinks cart had moved forward, he lowered his seat a couple of levels, so that I had to grab my ginger soda to avoid wearing it, as it would have toppled off the tray.
We went through the same nonsense when dinner was served, and again with a later drink and snack service. At every opportunity he reclined his seat fully. It reached the point that the flight attendants were coming up behind his seat to order him to put it upright, but as soon as they moved on, he would fully recline it again, so I spent most of the flight pinned in my seat. I certainly wasn’t going to give myself room by committing the same rudeness against the passenger behind me, and there wasn’t a free seat on the plane to which I could be moved.
Toward the end of the flight, the senior attendant apologized once more, thanked me for my patience, and asked me to report to a customer service desk belonging to their airline in the airport, so I could be given a travel voucher as an apology. Hearing this, the young man turned around and had a mini-tantrum, saying that he and his wife were on their honeymoon, and being forced and harassed to raise his seat back had spoiled their second day of marriage, so they were the ones who should get a voucher.
‘Oh, shut up, Gerald,’ said the new bride, who had apparently had enough. She pushed past her groom and stalked down the airplane aisle, Gerald in whiny pursuit.
‘I give them six months,’ said my seatmate, handing me my suitcase from the overhead bin.
‘Three if they fly much,’ responded the flight attendant, and everyone around us started to laugh.
I got off the plane surrounded by the broad grins of nearby fellow passengers who had watched the whole thing unfold. I’m pretty sure they felt I had earned my travel voucher.
A Different World
“In Pakistan, women have varying levels of comfort sitting with male passengers mostly a hang over from the gender segregation that happened during the Islamization of the 80s. The professionals, younger generation are mostly ho-hum about it, and are looking mostly to have more wiggle room rather than identify with the gender of the person. I had almost never had problems (touchwood) with a woman sitting next to me, and we often end up chatting.
This one incident though it happened about 5–6 years ago but even now recounting makes me cringe. I was boarding a domestic flight to another town for work. I was 24 at that time, straight out of college.
I remember walking down the aisle (not in the way I wanted to be engaged) and my eyes met this middle-aged woman in her 40s. More often than not, I have usually given that stare to people trying to ascertain if they are going to be landing their holy presence next to me and occupy the empty space that could have been used for me to expand. But this stare was different. It instantly made me feel that she prayed I (or any other male mortal) would not sit next to her. Luck was not on her side and as soon as I put my bag in the overhead compartment and plopped into the seat next to her, there was this deathly silence.
A few minutes later while reading my book, I heard her mumble, ‘I can’t sit next to this person’ till the voice starting going up a few decibels for everyone around me to hear. It was beyond uncomfortable and the crew was called. They tried to calm the woman down in what seemed more like an exercise in exorcism. I was requested if I could vacate the seat to which I said no. While I change seats to accommodate individuals even today and have done so in the past, somehow the way in which the situation escalated, made me feel like my presence was vile to the existence of the said lady.
‘I don’t have a problem sitting next to her. If she has a problem she should be the one asking to be re-seated,’ is what I ended up saying somehow surprised at myself for standing my ground.
Since the flight was pretty packed, another couple was disrupted and this said woman dislodged from my neighborhood and the other woman’s husband was seated next to me.”
Prejudice at 36000 Feet
“I was flying from Poland to the UK to meet my friends and my boyfriend (soon my husband), all British. Casual flight, I had plenty of them in the past and plenty of them to come. I was considering to move to Manchester, but in the light of Brexit, we decided that it can be better if I wait or if my boyfriend moves to Poland.
This one flight was not casual at all. Happened 3 years ago and all memories are still vivid.
I had a window seat, next to me sat a middle-aged British couple. On the flight itself, I was working on my laptop, started writing some articles in Polish.
The woman looked at my screen and started laughing. I just smiled to her, said nothing.
Then it started.
‘Oh, you’re Polish? Soon you won’t be flying to England.’
I was like, ‘Excuse me? I don’t understand.’
‘Obviously you don’t understand, Polish people can’t understand or speak English.’
‘My English is far from being perfect, I don’t understand your point of not flying to England soon?’
‘Finally Brexit happened. Stupid, idiotic, ugly Poles will come back home and will not fly to our beautiful country, they won’t live in England, they won’t steal our jobs. The Second World War should have done you, unfortunately it did not. You’ll go home, too, homeless and jobless, so enjoy this flight while it lasts.’ Then, they just started giggling.
I was in shock.
I am not a person who loves fighting, but it made me incredibly angry.
‘So why did you leave your beautiful England and came to my country full of stupid, idiotic, ugly Poles?’
Then, I just genuinely added ‘Have a nice flight’.
It was not the end, though. I came back to my work with headphones on, a couple was… mortified. A minute after, the woman punched me in the face and started swearing.
Other passengers saw it, I also called out a cabin crew member. I changed the seat (went to the first row while the couple was stuck in the 19th) and I haven’t seen this couple again. Cabin crew members were really embarrassed by this situation, they did great asking me if I am okay, if I want to talk. I was shocked, but fine, I knew that people can be, and often will be, terrible, so I am a bit bulletproof.
When I was leaving my initial row also some English people were saying ‘I am sorry for them.’ I know they were. A lot of people were and are, and I am not going to put labels on all British people. I experienced some more situations like this in the UK, so it was not the only one, though.”
“I was on an overnight flight from Houston to Paris and was seated in economy. I had requested the first row behind business class. Whilst this row does not have the leg room of the bulkhead, it is quiet, and I would be able to elevate my legs against the wall that divides the sections.
As it happened there was no one else next to me so I effectively had three seats to myself- I was delighted!
Whilst we were all settling and many were still boarding there was a commotion going on a few rows behind me. A young man in his early twenties was insisting that I was in his seat. The conversation (which was becoming very heated) was all in French, but as soon as I realized it was about my seat, I stood up, showed my boarding stub and hoped the confusion would be easily settled. The young man, however, was still arguing with staff quite vociferously and it became clear that he was very anxious, indeed. I wondered at that point if he was really fit to fly. All of the staff just seemed intent on shutting him up so we would not miss our take-off slot. If this were now, the young man would be removed from the plane as a security risk, but prior to 9/11, he was just seen as a difficult passenger.
After dinner, I settled down to sleep. I had plenty of room and was looking forward to three or four hours rest. I was fast asleep and was suddenly awakened by a blow to my head. My first thought was that a piece of luggage had fallen on me, but as I sat up, I was hit again. It was the young man who claimed I was in his seat. He then started to pull me by the shoulders to dislodge me from my seat- of course, my seatbelt was buckled so I couldn’t move- and continued to hit and slap me. I called for help (in truth, I let out some rather ineffectual yelps, I believe) and EVENTUALLY, one member of the crew came. She did nothing to help me at that moment, but she did go to get help. Two male flight attendants came and pulled him off me.
He was bundled to the back of the plane and restrained. As we neared our destination, we were told that the police were arriving to remove him from the flight before any of us could disembark.
The point of my story is not the assault by this young man, whom I now believe was suffering from some sort of mental illness or severe anxiety, but the total lack of care, concern or responsibility shown by the Air France Crew. Not one of them asked me if I was okay or if I needed medical assistance (I didn’t- the young man had been pretty ineffectual in his attack) and when the police came on-board, the flight attendant told me there wasn’t time for me to talk to the police, but that I should put my ‘story’ in writing and they would hand it on to the police.
I had to quickly get to my connecting flight to London so I did not have time to complain to Air France in person, at the airport itself. Once I was settled in London, however, I wrote a long complaint to Air France. Their response? A stock letter; anodyne, non- specific and not even very polite or well written.
A deeply disrespectful response- at all levels. I have never, and will never, fly Air France again.”
A Tale Of Two Hells
“My wife and I were flying from Melbourne Australia to Toronto. Our daughter was not quite 2, and it would be the first time my relatives in Canada would get to see her in person.
I was still getting on my feet in Australia at that time, and flights were ridiculously expensive (they charge Australians more for flights, and it was actually worse back then — almost twice as much) so my sister-in-law who travels extensively generously let us use her air miles for my flight, but it meant that I would be flying separately from my wife and daughter. Shortly after arriving at Melbourne International, we had to split off in opposite directions. Both of us had a horrible experience.
The first leg of my flight was on Qantas from Melbourne direct to LAX. However, after boarding we were stuck sitting on the tarmac for over 3 hours. It turned out that someone with sleep apnea had managed to check in luggage that included a machine that apparently gave off radiation. The delay was due to the airline first trying to identify the cause of the radiation, unloading it, identifying the owner, removing him from the flight, reloading luggage, etc.
So by the time we landed in LAX, everyone on board who had a connecting flight was late, myself included despite the 3 hour stopover originally scheduled. There were people waiting to hand out vouchers to all of us as we got off the plane to get us onto replacement flights. I received one which would take me to Toronto with a stopover in Houston, instead of a direct flight. So it was annoying, but I thought at least they’re trying, so I couldn’t be angry at them.
I had to take that back. I got up to the United Airlines counter with my voucher, and they checked their records and I was not listed on that flight to Houston. The person at the desk told me I would need to go to Qantas to clear that up. I could not return to where personnel handed out the vouchers because it was in a secured area, and the first Qantas desk I found was unmanned. In a bit of a panic, I managed to spot someone who looked like they worked at the airport and asked advice, and he directed me to take a bus to another building where I might find an operating Qantas desk.
So I made my way to a large building with hundreds of desks operated by numerous airlines, all in seemingly random order. After a frantic search, I eventually found a Qantas desk, just in time to stop someone who was about to close the desk. I explained the problem. She looked at the voucher. And she arranged a new voucher that would get me on a United flight direct to Toronto. She also handed me a second voucher, and said ‘This is for your troubles, but I’m not sure you’ll want to use it.’ In confusion, I looked at it. It was a voucher for a free drink at one of the restaurants at LAX. I then looked at the voucher for the flight to Toronto. It was due to take off in 15 minutes. She’s right — I didn’t bother going for the free drink.
I started running again, baggage in tow, first to a United desk where I could check in, and then rushed off to security. I urgently explained to the woman in charge of the lines for the metal detector what happened and asked if I could go to the front of the line. She just didn’t care. She turned me down, and directed me to the end of a long line. Not long afterwards I saw the same woman lead Marla Maples (I kid you not) and her kids (this is over 10 years ago) straight to another metal detector with no line-up, so she could go straight through.
So I eventually got through security and ran full speed to the boarding gate. The very last person waiting at the gate was boarding, and it was clear I had just barely made it on time.
My Wife’s Story:
My wife’s first leg was from Melbourne to Sydney.
Pregnant, and with a not-quite-two-year-old in a small pusher, my wife went up to the check-in desk. The woman behind the counter refused to help her get any of her baggage onto the conveyor despite pointing out her pregnancy. Thankfully, a young man also behind the desk was more helpful and assisted. But then my wife was told she’d also have to check in the small pusher (we’re talking very small, unobstructive) my daughter was sleeping in. My wife pointed out that would mean she’d have to likely carry her daughter a long distance while also handling their carry-on luggage. The woman seriously didn’t care.
So the entire time she had to get through security and to her gate was a big struggle. Then when she landed in Sydney for the next leg of her flight to Vancouver, she had to once again struggle to get to the opposite end of the airport (thankfully an older gentleman helped her out). The next leg was with Air Canada, and they were shocked that she wasn’t allowed by Qantas to take her stroller on board (planes tend to have a space where you can leave them). In Vancouver, Air Canada loaned her a stroller to help her get the gate for her next flight to Toronto.
So she arrived in Toronto, met up with my mother (her own stroller now retrieved from the check-in luggage), and not long afterwards my original flight landed, and I’m a no-show. They waited, and waited, becoming increasingly stressed. They asked around, but nobody was willing to tell her anything about what happened to me for security reasons. Finally, they found someone who was willing to say ‘I’m not allowed to say what happened, but don’t worry. Wait around a bit longer.’
So finally, after both of us experiencing rude service (with a fair bit of incompetence thrown my way as well), people acting as if it is a security risk to tell a pregnant woman that her husband is not dead or missing, etc, we finally were together in Canada, and ready to trade stories.”