‘I’m in charge here!’ A wealthy man makes a flight attendant cry, but an elderly woman steps in and puts him in his place

Karl’s company was about to move to new heights, and this only reinforced his growing arrogance. However, after mistreating an air hostess on his flight to a life-changing meeting, Karl is finally humbled.

Karl was a middle-aged man well on his way to the big leagues. His company was about to become a subsidiary of a large multinational corporation.

Karl came from humble beginnings and had worked all of his life to finally get to this point in his career. He was set to travel to Chicago to sign his deal, and he was over the moon.

Karl had long awaited this moment, and he was set on enjoying it as much as he possibly could. He got himself a business-class ticket to celebrate his new venture.

His newfound success was beginning to go to his head, and Karl became a little reckless with his behavior and how he treated people. As he sat in his business-class seat, he pompously took in the view that surrounded him. This was his first time in business class.

“It’s about to be one hell of a celebration,” he said to the man sitting next to him.

“Oh, really!? What are we celebrating?” the man asked.

“I’m on my way to Chicago to sign the contract of a lifetime. This is definitely a champagne moment,” a cheerful Karl explains.

“Oh wow. That’s great. I’m happy for you,” the man said.

“What is this? The audacity! You take thirty minutes to bring me my champagne, and it’s warm!? Are you serious?”

“Hey! A chilled bottle of your best champagne!” Karl barked to the air hostess, snapping his fingers rather rudely.

“No problem, sir. I’ll attend to you in a second,” the air hostess kindly responded.

Thirty minutes went by, and Karl became agitated because he still hadn’t received his order. The air hostess finally came with Karl’s champagne, and Karl was not pleased at all.

“So? What took you so long? I’ve been waiting for about half an hour?” Karl barked at the air hostess.

“I’m so sorry about that, sir. I had to handle something in economy class,” the air hostess calmly responded.

“What is this? The audacity! You take thirty minutes to bring me my champagne, and it’s warm!? Are you serious?” Karl snapped, shoving the champagne bottle to the floor.

“I’m sorry, sir! I just—” the air hostess nervously started before being interrupted by a further agitated Karl.

“Stop with the excuses! Just do your job! I am your boss here! You understand?” Karl barked, the rest of the passengers now looking on at his spectacle.

As he was going off at the air hostess, who did her best to hold back her tears, an elderly woman, Anna, stepped into the business class cubicles. Karl was astonished to see the Chief Executive Officer for the very company he was about to sign to. Anna went straight to the air hostess and greeted her warmly.

“Thank you for what you did for me,” Anna said.

“It’s no problem. It was my pleasure,” the air hostess said, feigning a smile as she wiped her tears.

“Why are you crying?” Anna asked, concerned. Karl uncomfortably shifted to the side as the air hostess turned to look at him, with Anna following.

“Well, I think you should apologize to this young lady.”

“Uhm… Just… I just had a little disagreement with this gentleman here. That’s all,” the air hostess said, trying her best to conceal her hurt and frustration.

“Karl? What are the chances of us being on the same flight?” Anna said, shocked to see Karl and curious about what role he had to play in the air hostess’s sudden sadness.

“Uhm… Anna, yes, it’s a surprise to see you here. Why are you in economy class?” Karl hesitantly asked.

“Well, it saves me money to give to charity and other worthwhile causes. And you? Why are you making this woman’s job more difficult than it has to be? I heard you all the way from my section,” Anna said.

“Uhm… No, it’s just that she took forever to bring me my champagne, and it was warm when it arrived. Poor service delivery,” Karl said, sticking to his arrogance.

“Well, I think you should apologize to this young lady. While you were waiting on your champagne, I had an asthma attack, and she was kind enough to drop everything and attend to me. She saved my life,” Anna explained to Karl rather firmly and with conviction.

“Saved you?” a confused Karl asked.

“Yes, that’s what held up your champagne. I’m sorry about that. But don’t be so rash as to call out people on doing their job when you don’t understand the full scope of things. Take this as advice from someone who would’ve been your boss,” Anna said.

“Uhm… ‘Would’ve,’ ma’am?” Karl nervously asked.

“Karl… I have lots of money, but what would I do with them if my life was in the hands of the stewardess today? Never put yourself above other people. You may need their help. Anyways, we’ll conclude this conversation in Chicago,” Anna coldly said before turning to the air hostess with a smile. “And thank you again, my dear.”

“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have treated you like that,” Karl said to the air hostess.

“It’s okay,” she responded.

Anna walked out of the business class section, leaving Karl completely perplexed. Karl became nervous about his contract when their flight finally landed in Chicago.

As fate would have it, Anna retracted the offer to Karl’s company, and the deal never ended up happening.

What can we learn from this story?

Never put yourself above others. Karl’s arrogance made him treat people wrongly, but it worked against him in the end.
Kindness goes a long way. The air hostess dropped everything to help Anna, and her kindness brought Anna to her defense later when Karl was mistreating her.

Tell us what you think, and share this story with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

My Ex-husband Got Our House, Car and All Our Money After Divorce – I Laughed Because That Was Exactly What I Planned

After a bitter marriage marked by Mike’s obsession with material wealth, Nicole shockingly agrees to give him everything in their divorce. But as Mike revels in his “victory,” Nicole’s laughter reveals a secret plan in motion. What Mike doesn’t know is that she’s about to make her final move.

I stepped out of the lawyer’s office with a blank expression, my shoulders slumped, looking every bit the defeated ex-wife. The rain was coming down hard, and the gray sky matched my mood — or at least the mood I wanted people to think I was in.

A woman walking past a window | Source: Midjourney

A woman walking past a window | Source: Midjourney

Inside, I was buzzing. My hands clenched the cold steel of the door handle as I headed toward the elevator. No one was around. Good.

The elevator door closed behind me with a soft ding, and as soon as I was alone, I let out a little giggle. It wasn’t something I planned; it bubbled up from deep inside like champagne finally uncorked.

The more I thought about what I’d just done the more it built up until I was cackling in the elevator like a lunatic.

A woman laughing in an elevator | Source: Midjourney

A woman laughing in an elevator | Source: Midjourney

If anyone saw me right then, they’d think I had finally snapped, gone over the edge from all the stress, but oh no, this was just the beginning. Everything was falling perfectly into place.

The house, the car, the savings — Mike could have them all. It was exactly what I wanted. He thought he’d won, and that was the best part. He didn’t have a clue what was coming.

The elevator stopped with a jolt, and I pulled myself together. I glanced at my reflection in the elevator’s mirrored wall: messy hair, tired eyes, and a faint smile still lingering on my lips. I didn’t even care. This was going to be fun.

A woman in an elevator | Source: Midjourney

A woman in an elevator | Source: Midjourney

A few weeks earlier…

Mike and I hadn’t been happy for years, but it wasn’t just the regular kind of falling out of love. Mike was obsessed with his image. He was all about the flashy cars, having the biggest house on the block, and wearing only designer clothes.

All of it was a performance, and I had played my part for too long. The cracks had started to show, and when the arguments became more frequent, I knew it wasn’t long before the inevitable happened.

A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney

A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney

The thing is, I wasn’t scared of the divorce. I knew Mike, and I knew exactly how this would play out.

He didn’t care about saving the marriage. No, what he wanted was to win — win the house, win the money, win the divorce.

All I wanted was to be free of this pretentious lifestyle. But that didn’t mean I was going to let him screw me over, either. So, I’d let Mike have what he wanted, but with a catch as sharp as a fishhook.

A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney

A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney

It happened on a Tuesday. Mike came home late, again. I was in the kitchen, pretending to scroll through my phone, not bothering to look up when he stormed in.

“We need to talk.”

I sighed, barely masking the boredom in my voice. “What now?”

He slammed his keys on the counter, and I could practically feel the frustration radiating off him. He always got like this when things didn’t go his way at work, and of course, I was the easiest target.

An irritated man | Source: Midjourney

An irritated man | Source: Midjourney

“I’m done,” he said, his voice low and tight. “I want a divorce.”

I blinked up at him. Finally. I nodded slowly, like it was sinking in, but really, I had been prepared for this moment for weeks.

“Okay,” I said simply.

He frowned, clearly taken aback. “That’s it? No fight? No begging?”

I shrugged. “What’s the point?”

A woman staring ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman staring ahead | Source: Midjourney

For a second, he looked confused, like I had taken the wind out of his sails. He was expecting resistance, expecting me to plead with him to stay.

But I just needed to give him enough rope to hang himself with.

The divorce negotiations were as awful as I expected. We sat across from each other in a sterile conference room, lawyers flanking us, as Mike outlined every little thing he wanted. The house, the car, the savings; it was like he was reading off a grocery list.

Close up of a man's eyes | Source: Midjourney

Close up of a man’s eyes | Source: Midjourney

And the entire time, he had this smug little grin on his face, like he thought I’d break down and cry at any moment.

“Fine,” I said, barely listening. “You can have it all.”

My lawyer shot me a look, one that clearly said, “Are you sure?” But I just nodded.

Mike blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I said, you can have it. I don’t want any of it, except for my personal possessions.”

A woman | Source: Midjourney

A woman | Source: Midjourney

He looked stunned. “You… you don’t want the house? Or the money?”

“Nope,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “It’s all yours.”

His shock quickly morphed into glee. “Great. Then take this afternoon to pack up your belongings. It’s not much, so that should be plenty of time.” Mike glanced at his watch. “I’ll expect you to be out by six.”

“No problem,” I replied.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

He sat up straighter, his chest puffing out like he’d just won the lottery. And I let him think it.

And that brings me back to that moment when I stepped into the elevator in the lawyer’s office building, and couldn’t contain my laughter anymore.

As I stepped out of the elevator, I pulled out my phone. My fingers hovered over the screen for a second before I typed out a quick message: I’m heading to the house to pack up my things. I’ll call you when it’s time to make your move.

I hit send and smiled. Time for the real fun to begin.

A cell phone | Source: Pexels

A cell phone | Source: Pexels

Packing up the house was easier than I thought it would be. I didn’t want much, just a few personal things, mostly items that held memories that weren’t tainted by Mike. The house was too big for just the two of us anyway, and it always felt more like his house than mine.

I was taping up the last box when I picked up the phone to make the call. My mom, Barbara, answered on the second ring.

“Hey,” I said, keeping my voice light. “It’s time.”

A woman making a phone call | Source: Midjourney

A woman making a phone call | Source: Midjourney

There was a pause, and then Mom’s familiar, no-nonsense tone came through. “Finally. I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Mom couldn’t stand Mike. She saw right through his flashy facade the day I introduced them. But the best part? She had helped us buy this house. She was the reason Mike thought he had scored such a great deal on it, and now she was going to be the reason he lost it.

I hung up, feeling a strange sense of relief as I looked around. I was done pretending.

A woman holding her phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding her phone | Source: Midjourney

The next morning, I was making breakfast in my new little apartment when my phone rang. I smirked as Mike’s name flashed across the screen.

“Hello?” I answered sweetly.

“You set me up!” Mike’s voice was furious, practically frothing at the mouth.

I put the phone on speaker, grabbing a piece of toast as I leaned against the counter. “I’m sorry, what are you talking about?”

A slice of toast | Source: Midjourney

A slice of toast | Source: Midjourney

“Your mother!” he spat. “She’s… she’s in my house! She’s taken over everything!”

“Oh, right,” I said, biting into my toast. “Remember that agreement we signed when she gave us the down payment? The one that lets her live there whenever she wants, for as long as she wants?”

There was a long pause, and I could practically hear the gears turning in his brain. I could imagine the look on his face, realization dawning.

A woman speaking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman speaking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

He had signed that paper years ago, too blinded by the allure of a fancy house to even think twice about the fine print.

“You! You cheated me! This isn’t over. I’m getting my lawyers—”

Before he could finish, I heard Mom’s voice in the background, sharp and cutting through the phone. “Michael, you better get your feet off that coffee table! And stop hogging the remote!”

There was a muffled sound as if Mike had turned away from the phone, trying to whisper. “Barbara, this is my house—”

A smiling woman on a phone call | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman on a phone call | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, hush,” Mom interrupted, louder now. “It’s my house just as much as yours. And another thing, what’s with all these cheap snacks? Do you know how to grocery shop? I’m not living off frozen dinners!”

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Mike mumbled something incoherent, his frustration barely contained, but before he could get another word in, I heard her again.

“And turn down that TV! You think I want to listen to that nonsense all day? If you’re going to watch those ridiculous car shows, at least mute it!”

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

There was a loud crash, followed by some more muttering, and then the phone clicked off abruptly. I took a deep breath, smiling as I sat down at the table.

Freedom never tasted so sweet.

Here’s another story: When I overheard my husband advising his friend to deliberately botch household chores, I felt a surge of anger. That moment marked the beginning of a transformation in our marriage, one where I decided to confront his weaponized incompetence by treating him like the child he was pretending to be.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*