I had just boarded my long-haul flight to Europe, excited for the first-class seat I’d splurged on—until I saw who was seated beside me: a celebrity, our local TV star.
As I stowed my bag in the overhead bin, I felt their cold stare burning through me. Before I could even sit down, they snapped at the flight attendant, “CAN YOU MOVE HER? I NEED MORE SPACE.”
I calmly settled into my seat, clicked the buckle, and responded in a steady voice, “I paid for this seat too. I’m not moving.” Then came that smug, all-too-familiar line: “DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO I AM?!”