Entitled Couple on Plane Demands I Cover My Face Because My Scars ‘Scare’ Them — Flight Attendant & Captain Put Them in Their Place

When Carla boards a flight, her healing scars become the target of a cruel couple’s disgust, igniting a tense confrontation in the cabin. What begins as silent endurance soon escalates as the couple demands action, forcing the crew to step in.

The airport felt colder than usual, or maybe it was just the way people stared. I kept my head down, gripping my boarding pass like it was the only thing holding me together.

A woman prepared to board a plane | Source: Pexels

A woman prepared to board a plane | Source: Pexels

The scar across my face was still healing, but it already felt like it had carved itself into my identity. People didn’t see me anymore, they saw the scar first.

The injury happened a month ago in a car accident. I had been a passenger, and when the airbag deployed, a shard of glass sliced deep into my face. The doctors were quick to act, stitching me up with precision, but they couldn’t prevent the jagged line from forming.

Doctors at work | Source: Pexels

Doctors at work | Source: Pexels

My dermatologist called it “early scar tissue,” raw, shiny, and red. It stretched from an inch above my hairline, down my brow, cutting across my cheek, and ending near my jawline. Part of my eyebrow would never grow back, and my cheek had an indentation where the cut had been deepest.

For weeks, my face was covered in bandages. At first, I couldn’t bear to look in the mirror. But as the wounds closed and the bandages came off, I had no choice but to face it.

A woman with bandages covering her face | Source: Midjourney

A woman with bandages covering her face | Source: Midjourney

My friends tried to cheer me up, calling it badass, even sexy in a mysterious way. I tried to believe them, but it was hard when strangers stared or looked away too quickly.

The healing process was slow and uncomfortable. Every morning, I applied the creams and ointments the dermatologist recommended, ensuring the skin stayed clean and hydrated.

A woman with cream on her face | Source: Midjourney

A woman with cream on her face | Source: Midjourney

But no amount of care could change the shiny, slick appearance or the harsh red lines that seemed to scream for attention. I knew they’d fade over time, but the thought of them never disappearing entirely sat heavy in my chest.

Now, as I walked to my seat on the plane, I could feel every pair of eyes on me. I dropped into the window seat, my heart racing.

A woman settling into her window seat | Source: Pexels

A woman settling into her window seat | Source: Pexels

At least I’d boarded early, avoiding the crowds. I slipped my headphones on, letting the music drown out my worries. Closing my eyes, I prayed for a peaceful, uneventful flight.

I woke up to voices. Loud ones.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” a man grumbled. “These are our seats?” His tone was sharp, like he was angry at the world.

A close-up shot of a grumpy man | Source: Pexels

A close-up shot of a grumpy man | Source: Pexels

“Row 5B and 5C,” a woman’s voice replied, clipped and impatient. “It’s fine. Just sit down.”

The couple settled into the seats next to me with a lot of huffing and shuffling. I kept my eyes closed, hoping they’d leave me alone. The man had a rough, gravelly voice. “I don’t believe this. We pay for this flight, and this is what we get? Last-minute seats next to —” He stopped.

A grumpy couple on a plane | Source: Midjourney

A grumpy couple on a plane | Source: Midjourney

“Next to what?” the woman asked, her voice rising. “Oh.” I felt her eyes on me. My skin prickled. “You’ve got to be joking.”

I stayed still, my heart pounding. Please just stop talking.

“Hey, lady!” the man barked. I opened my eyes slowly and turned toward him. He flinched, then scowled. “Can’t you cover that up or something?”

Young woman with scars on her face | Source: Midjourney

Young woman with scars on her face | Source: Midjourney

I blinked, too stunned to speak.

“Tom,” the woman hissed, covering her nose with her sweater sleeve. “That’s disgusting. How did they even let her board like that?”

“Exactly!” Tom leaned forward, pointing a finger at me. “This is a public place, you know? People don’t need to see… that.”

A disgusted couple | Source: Midjourney

A disgusted couple | Source: Midjourney

I felt my face flush. The words caught in my throat. I wanted to explain, to tell them it wasn’t something I could help, but no sound came out.

“Are you just going to sit there?” the woman said, her voice sharp and nasally. “Unbelievable.”

Tom leaned into the aisle and waved down a flight attendant. “Hey! Can you do something about this? My girlfriend is freaking out.”

A flight attendant in the isle | Source: Unsplash

A flight attendant in the isle | Source: Unsplash

The flight attendant approached, her expression calm but serious. “Is there a problem, sir?”

“Yeah, there’s a problem,” Tom said. “Look at her!” He jabbed a thumb in my direction. “It’s upsetting my girlfriend. Can you move her to the back or something?”

The attendant’s eyes shifted to me. Her face softened for a moment before she turned back to the man. “Sir, all passengers are entitled to their seats. Is there something I can help you with?”

Flight attendant talking to the passengers | Source: Unsplash

Flight attendant talking to the passengers | Source: Unsplash

“I just told you!” Tom snapped. “She’s sitting there looking like that. It’s gross. She should have to cover it up or move.”

The woman added, “I can’t even look at her. I’ll throw up.”

The flight attendant straightened, her tone cool and firm. “Sir, ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to lower your voices. This kind of behavior is not acceptable.”

An angry middle-aged man talking to a flight attendant on a plane | Source: Midjourney

An angry middle-aged man talking to a flight attendant on a plane | Source: Midjourney

Tom scoffed. “Behavior? What about her behavior? It’s inconsiderate! She’s scaring people!”

The attendant ignored him and crouched slightly toward me. “Miss, are you okay?”

I nodded stiffly, barely holding back tears.

The attendant stood tall again. “I’ll be right back,” she said, her voice steady. “Excuse me for a moment.”

A flight attendant confronting an angry passenger | Source: Midjourney

A flight attendant confronting an angry passenger | Source: Midjourney

As she walked toward the cockpit, Tom leaned back in his seat, muttering under his breath. The woman beside him folded her arms and glared out the aisle. I stared at the window, wishing I could disappear.

The cabin was quiet except for the low hum of the engines. I kept my eyes on the seatback in front of me, trying not to cry. A few rows back, someone whispered. I imagined they were talking about me.

A sad woman with a scar | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman with a scar | Source: Midjourney

The intercom crackled. The captain’s voice came through, calm but firm.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We’ve been made aware of behavior that does not align with the respectful environment we strive to maintain on this flight. Let me remind everyone that harassment or discrimination of any kind will not be tolerated. Please treat your fellow passengers with dignity.”

The pilots of the plane | Source: Pexels

The pilots of the plane | Source: Pexels

The announcement sent a ripple through the cabin. Heads turned, passengers shifting in their seats as they glanced toward row 5. I caught sight of someone across the aisle shaking their head in disapproval, and my stomach twisted.

The flight attendant returned, standing tall and composed. She leaned into our row and addressed the couple directly. “Mr. and Ms., I’ll need you to move to seats 22B and 22C at the back of the plane.”

A flight attendant talking to passengers | Source: Midjourney

A flight attendant talking to passengers | Source: Midjourney

The man looked stunned. “What?” he barked. “We’re not moving!”

“Sir,” the flight attendant said firmly, “this is not negotiable. Your behavior has disrupted the flight, and we need to ensure a comfortable environment for all passengers.”

“This is ridiculous,” the woman snapped, pulling her sweater tighter around her. “Why are we the ones being punished? She’s the one causing the problem!”

A young woman shouting at flight attendants | Source: Midjourney

A young woman shouting at flight attendants | Source: Midjourney

The flight attendant didn’t flinch. “Ma’am, your new seats are ready. Please gather your belongings.”

The man scowled, his face flushed red with anger. “This is insane,” he muttered, yanking his bag from under the seat. The woman followed, grumbling loudly as she snatched her purse. Passengers nearby watched silently, their expressions ranging from disapproval to quiet satisfaction.

A dissatisfied couple walking | Source: Midjourney

A dissatisfied couple walking | Source: Midjourney

As the couple shuffled down the aisle, someone clapped. Then another. The sound grew, scattering applause throughout the cabin. I bit my lip, trying to hold back tears. Not from embarrassment this time, but from the strange, unexpected comfort of the gesture.

The flight attendant turned to me, her expression soft. “Miss, I want to apologize for what happened. No one should have to experience that.”

A nice flight attendant talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney

A nice flight attendant talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

“We have an open seat in business class,” she continued. “We’d like to move you there as a gesture of goodwill. Would that be okay?”

I hesitated. “I don’t want to cause trouble.”

“You’re not causing trouble,” she said, her voice kind. “Please. Let us take care of you.”

An unsure woman on a plane | Source: Midjourney

An unsure woman on a plane | Source: Midjourney

I nodded, murmuring, “Thank you.”

As I settled into my new seat, she brought me a cup of coffee and a small bag of cookies, then left me to relax. I stared out the window, the clouds a soft white blur against the endless blue. My breathing slowed, the knot in my chest loosening.

A woman with a book and a coffee in a window seat | Source: Freepik

A woman with a book and a coffee in a window seat | Source: Freepik

For the first time in what felt like weeks, I let myself cry. Quiet tears slid down my cheeks. I thought about my friends’ words, how they’d told me I was still me, scars and all. “You’re still beautiful,” one had said. “You’re just fierce now too.”

I looked out the window again. The clouds seemed endless, stretching far into the horizon. My tears stopped. I took a deep breath, the air filling my lungs like a promise.

A woman looking at her phone on a plane | Source: Pexels

A woman looking at her phone on a plane | Source: Pexels

As the plane glided forward, I felt something I hadn’t in weeks: hope.

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.

I Cooked a Festive Dinner for 20 People for My Husband’s Birthday — Then He Ditched Me to Celebrate at a Bar

I thought I was being a good wife, throwing a festive dinner for my husband Todd’s 35th birthday. But just as the guests were about to arrive, he told me he was ditching the party to watch the game at a bar. What happened next? Let’s just say, I got the last laugh.

You’d think six years of marriage would teach someone a little gratitude, but not Todd. Every year, I’d pour my heart and soul into his birthday, only for him to take it all for granted.

This year, though, his entitlement hit a whole new level.

A man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

Six years. That’s how long Todd and I have been married.

Don’t get me wrong, our relationship isn’t all bad. Todd can be charming when he wants to be, and we’ve had some wonderful times together. But there’s one thing about him that drives me absolutely up the wall.

His entitlement.

Take last Thanksgiving, for example. Todd had this brilliant idea to host a dinner for both of our families. He announced it at breakfast one day, grinning like he’d solved world hunger.

Breakfast on a table | Source: Pexels

Breakfast on a table | Source: Pexels

“Claire,” he said, “I think we should host Thanksgiving this year.”

“Okay,” I replied. “That sounds nice. How are we dividing up the responsibilities?”

He waved me off like I’d just asked him to do a headstand.

“Oh, you’re so much better at that stuff,” he said. “I’ll handle… I don’t know, drinks or something. Just make it memorable, alright?”

I should’ve known better, but I went along with it.

For two weeks, I planned and prepped while Todd played fantasy football and occasionally asked me, “You need me to pick up anything?”

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

On the big day, I roasted the turkey, whipped up sides, and even made two pies.

And Todd? He carried the cooler of beer into the living room. That’s it.

After dinner, as everyone raved about the food and decor, Todd decided it was time to take credit for everything.

“Glad you all love it,” he said. “I wanted it to be special this year.”

I thought I’d misheard him.

“Oh, really?” I asked. “What part did you want special? The green bean casserole or the centerpiece?”

A woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney

He ignored me, of course.

And that’s Todd in a nutshell. He wants the credit without lifting a finger.

Then there was last year on his birthday.

I spent weeks creating a customized photo album, filling it with pictures from our travels and special moments together. I couldn’t wait to see his reaction when he unwrapped it.

But when he was done flipping through the pages, he just said, “Oh. So, where’s the real gift?”

It wasn’t just his words that hurt. It was the sheer audacity.

A woman looking at her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at her husband | Source: Midjourney

I’d married a man who once wrote me poetry, and now he couldn’t appreciate a heartfelt gesture. That moment shattered something in me.

It made me realize he wasn’t the man I’d fallen for anymore.

And then came his 35th birthday. The final straw.

We were having dinner when Todd casually told me his plans.

“Claire, I want a big, proper birthday dinner this year,” he said. “Invite the family, my buddies, everyone.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You mean you want me to plan it?”

A woman in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her house | Source: Midjourney

“Well, yeah,” he said. “You’re good at this stuff. Just make it decent, alright? I don’t want to be embarrassed in front of everyone.”

“Decent?” I repeated.

“Yeah, just don’t go overboard or anything. Keep it classy.”

You see the entitlement here? See the way he thinks he deserves a birthday party while knowing how he’d hurt me with his words last time?

Honestly, I didn’t want to agree, but I decided to give him another chance. After all, it was his birthday, and I wanted to make it special even if he didn’t deserve it.

A close-up shot of a woman's eyes | Source: Midjourney

A close-up shot of a woman’s eyes | Source: Midjourney

For the next two weeks, I threw myself into planning Todd’s “big, proper birthday dinner.” If he wanted classy, I’d give him classy.

I drafted an impressive menu that had spinach-stuffed chicken, rosemary potatoes, a charcuterie board with cheeses I couldn’t pronounce, and a three-layer chocolate cake that would be the pièce de résistance.

Every day after work, I’d come home, tie my hair up, and get to work cleaning, organizing, and prepping. I even borrowed extra chairs and a folding table from our neighbor, Janice, just to make sure everyone would have a seat.

Todd’s contribution? Absolutely nothing.

A woman cleaning the house | Source: Pexels

A woman cleaning the house | Source: Pexels

“I’m swamped at work,” he said one night, kicking off his shoes and plopping onto the couch. “But you’ve got this, babe. You’re good at these things.”

Good at these things? I was so tired I could’ve cried.

But instead of snapping, I smiled and said, “Yeah, I’ve got this.”

The day of the party finally arrived.

I woke up early, determined to make everything perfect.

A woman standing in the hallway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in the hallway | Source: Midjourney

The house was spotless. The table was set with matching linens and little name cards I’d handwritten. The appetizers were chilling, the main courses simmering, and the cake was decorated with edible gold flakes.

Yes, I went that far.

Todd strolled into the kitchen around noon, scrolling through his phone as usual. He barely glanced at the spread I’d laid out.

“Looks good,” he muttered as he opened the fridge to grab a soda.

“Looks good?” I repeated, half-joking but half-hoping he’d notice the effort I’d put in.

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

“Yeah,” he said, shutting the fridge door. Then, like it was no big deal, he added, “But hey, uh, don’t bother finishing all this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m heading to the bar with the guys to watch the game instead. Cancel everything. Tell everyone something came up.”

“You’re ditching your own birthday dinner?” I asked. “Todd, I’ve been planning this for weeks!”

“It’s not a big deal, Claire,” he shrugged it off. “Just call everyone and tell them we’re busy or something. They’ll understand.”

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

“They’ll understand?” My voice rose. “Todd, people are already on their way! You told me to make this decent and now you’re leaving?”

“I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of the guys,” he said, ending the conversation.

Then, he grabbed his jacket and walked out of the door.

“You can’t do this, Todd!” I shouted, but he’d already left.

I was so heartbroken. I’d poured my heart, soul, and savings into this dinner, and he just walked out like it was nothing.

A woman looking outside the window | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking outside the window | Source: Midjourney

Cancel everything? After all the work I’d done?

But more than anything, I felt humiliated.

How could he treat me like this? How could he brush off all my efforts as if they didn’t matter?

I stared at the table while the candles flickered mockingly.

Is this what you’re worth, Claire? I asked myself. Is this how you’ll let Todd treat you? No. You can’t do this.

At that point, I decided I wouldn’t cancel the dinner. I won’t allow him to make me feel bad again.

A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

If Todd wanted to act like a spoiled brat, I’d let him, but not without showing him what “embarrassing” really looked like. He had no idea who he was messing with.

I grabbed my phone and sent a group text to all the guests:

Party’s still on! Change of plans. Meet us at the bar on the main street near our place. Bring your appetite!

Then, I got to work.

I packed all the food and loaded it into the car. Then, I drove straight to the bar Todd had mentioned.

A woman driving | Source: Pexels

A woman driving | Source: Pexels

When I arrived, the place was already buzzing with noise. I looked around and spotted Todd sitting at a table with his buddies, his back to the door. He was completely oblivious to my presence.

“Uh, ma’am? Can I help you?” the bartender asked with wide eyes after noticing the trays of food I was carrying.

I flashed him my sweetest smile. “Oh, I’m just here to share a meal with some people who’ll actually appreciate it.”

A woman standing in a bar | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a bar | Source: Midjourney

I picked a table near the bar, in full view of Todd’s group, and began unpacking dish after dish. The aroma of the food quickly caught everyone’s attention. Patrons nearby craned their necks to see what was going on.

“What’s this about?” one man asked, gesturing toward the feast I was setting up.

I raised my voice just enough to carry across the room. “Oh, this was supposed to be my husband’s birthday dinner. But he decided to ditch me and come here, so I thought, why let all this food go to waste?”

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

The room erupted in murmurs and laughter, and a few people even clapped. That’s when Todd finally turned around and spotted me.

He immediately stormed over while his buddies murmured amongst themselves.

“Claire! What the hell are you doing?” he hissed, his eyes darting nervously between me and the growing crowd.

I didn’t even look at him.

Instead, I addressed the nearest group of patrons. “You like ham? Help yourselves! There’s cake coming too.”

A close-up shot of food in a plate | Source: Pexels

A close-up shot of food in a plate | Source: Pexels

Just as Todd sputtered out another protest, the front door swung open, and in walked his parents, my parents, his sister, and our cousins.

They looked at us, then at the food, and then at all the people munching on what was supposed to be a formal dinner.

Todd’s mom, bless her bluntness, walked right up to him. “What’s going on, Todd? Claire said to meet here for your birthday dinner, but why is she serving food in a bar?”

An older woman | Source: Midjourney

An older woman | Source: Midjourney

Todd looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor.

“Uh, it’s complicated, Mom,” he muttered.

“Oh, I’d love to explain!” I intervened. “Todd decided that watching the game with his friends was more important than the dinner he demanded I plan. So, I brought the dinner to him!”

His dad shook his head. “How disrespectful,” he muttered.

Meanwhile, my mom grabbed a plate and said, “Well, the food smells amazing. Let’s eat!”

A woman in a bar | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a bar | Source: Midjourney

Soon, both our families joined the other patrons and dug into the feast I’d worked so hard on.

And Todd’s friends? They were still laughing at his expense and told him they’ll never forget this day.

By the time I brought out the cake, the bar felt like a full-blown party. On top of the cake, in bold frosting letters, I had written:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SELFISH HUSBAND!

The bar erupted in laughter when I read it aloud, but Todd wasn’t too happy about that.

A man laughing | Source: Pexels

A man laughing | Source: Pexels

“Was this really necessary, Claire?” he muttered under his breath.

I tilted my head, smiling sweetly. “Absolutely.”

Once everyone was done, I started packing up the empty trays. That’s when the bartender stopped me.

“Ma’am, you’re a legend,” he said. “Drinks on the house if you ever come back. Without him, of course!”

I chuckled. “Thank you! I’ll definitely drop by sometime.”

The families didn’t stick around long after the food was gone. My dad gave me a proud nod as he left, while Todd’s mom told him he could’ve done better.

An older woman speaking to her son | Source: Midjourney

An older woman speaking to her son | Source: Midjourney

As we drove back home, Todd kept muttering about being “humiliated.” Once we were back, he protested even more.

“Claire, you humiliated me in front of everyone!” he said, throwing his hands in the air.

“No, Todd,” I shot back. “You humiliated yourself. And for the record, don’t expect another homemade meal anytime soon.”

He knew he couldn’t argue with me at that point. He just turned around and stormed off to the bedroom.

A doorknob | Source: Pexels

A doorknob | Source: Pexels

It’s been two weeks since that night, and I kid you not, Todd has changed. Well, mostly.

His unrealistic demands have dialed down, and he’s been unusually polite, almost as if he’s afraid I’ll pull another stunt like that. He hasn’t apologized outright for ditching me, but his sheepish behavior says enough.

I guess now he knows I’m not the kind of wife who’ll roll over and take his nonsense anymore. If nothing else, that’s a win in my book.

A woman standing by a window | Source: Pexels

A woman standing by a window | Source: Pexels

What would you have done if you were in my shoes?

If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: My entitled husband booked first class for himself and his mom, leaving me in economy with the kids. But I wasn’t going to just sit back. I made sure his “luxury” experience had a little turbulence, turning his flight into a lesson he won’t forget.

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.

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