I glanced down.
Five bare toes were resting on my armrest.
I looked down.
For a brief moment, I genuinely believed I was hallucinating.
Then the odor hit my senses.
I spun around. The man seated behind me appeared to be about forty-five, sporting a luxury watch and headphones, with his footwear shoved beneath the seat.
“Excuse me. Could you move your foot?”
He pushed one headphone off his ear.
“Let them breathe.”
“It’s not touching you.”
“It’s on my armrest.”
“My feet need to breathe.”
“Then let them breathe in your own space.”
He smirked. “It’s an airplane. We’re all sharing this area.”
I stared at him.
He glanced over at my other arm.
“So use your other armrest and leave me alone.”
I stared at him.
He smiled, slid his headphones back into place, and wiggled his toes.
I shifted my elbow away.
I turned around.
Ten minutes later, his foot was still there.
When the aircraft encountered turbulence, his toes actually brushed against my sleeve.
I whirled around once more.
“Seriously. Move your foot.”
He sighed as though I were draining his energy.
He laughed.
“Lady, it’s just a foot. You’re acting like I placed it on your dinner plate.”
The female passenger beside me grimaced.
“That is repulsive.”
He laughed.
“You two need to calm down.”
“Fine.”
That was the exact moment I stopped debating.
“Fine,” I said.
He smirked, entirely convinced he had emerged victorious.
Twenty minutes later, he drifted off to sleep.
His bare foot remained inches from my elbow.
He smirked.
I stared at it for a second.
Then an inspiration struck me.
I looked over at the woman next to me.
“Would you mind blocking his view if he wakes up?”
Her eyebrows lifted.
Her eyes widened.
“Why?”
I leaned in closer and whispered my strategy.
Her eyes widened. Then she slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter.
“Oh, are you actually going to do that? You’re my queen,” she whispered, offering me a wink.
I smiled.
The man was snoring away.
“By the way, I’m Diane,” she whispered.
“Rebecca.”
“Well, Rebecca, this is officially the most amusing flight of my life.”
I glanced back over my shoulder. The man was snoring, totally oblivious.
“Just promise you’ll alert me if he stirs.”
I reached beneath the seat.
Diane gave me a resolute nod.
“Consider me your lookout.”
I reached under the seat in front of me, slid out my carry-on bag, and slowly unzipped it.
I had just spent five days away on a business trip, and I had promised my eight-year-old daughter, Megan, that I would bring her something special.
I had intended to surprise Megan.
Megan was obsessed with Barbie and anything pink. So when I spotted a Barbie-themed beauty kit at a gift shop, I knew she would adore it.
It featured six shades of pink nail polish and a collection of plastic rings topped with massive fake gemstones. Some of those stones were roughly the size of golf balls.
I had planned to surprise Megan that evening.
Diane stared at it.
Still, surely she wouldn’t object if I borrowed a few items first.
I pulled out the most vibrant bottle.
Diane stared at it.
“Oh, this is going to be gorgeous.”
“Just make sure nobody watches.”
He didn’t budge.
She shifted in her seat, shielding me from curious onlookers.
I leaned toward the man’s foot and gently painted his big toenail hot pink.
He didn’t budge.
I kept going, giving each visible toenail a different shade.
Diane was trembling with silent laughter.
I finished painting.
“You’re surprisingly talented at this.”
“Eight years of raising a daughter who treats every weekend like a spa day.”
Once I was done painting, I selected two plastic rings. One featured an enormous pink diamond, while the other boasted a glittering purple heart.
I carefully slid them onto his toes.
We both froze.
“I cannot believe he’s sleeping through this,” Diane whispered.
“Apparently, his feet are more considerate when he’s unconscious.”
Just then, the man shifted.
We both froze.
He scratched his nose, mumbled something incomprehensible, and turned his face toward the window.
The man shifted.
Then he went right back to snoring.
Diane pressed both hands tightly over her mouth.
I screwed the polish lid tight and tucked the remaining gifts back into my bag.
Then I settled back into my seat and admired our craftsmanship.
Five pink toenails. Two sparkling rings.
The man finally woke up.
Absolute perfection.
Now I simply wondered how long it would take him to notice.
Forty minutes later, the man finally woke up. He stretched, removed his headphones, and stood up to visit the restroom without bothering to slip his shoes on.
The giant plastic gemstones sparkled brightly under the cabin lights as he strolled down the aisle.
He looked down.
A passenger across the aisle noticed first.
He looked down, blinked, and burst into laughter.
Then a woman behind him began giggling.
Within moments, several rows were staring directly at the man’s feet.
The man frowned.
Even a passing flight attendant pressed her lips together, fighting to keep a professional expression.
The man frowned.
“What?”
Nobody replied.
At last, he looked down. His face flushed a brilliant crimson.
I smiled sweetly.
He whirled around toward me.
“What the hell did you do?!”
I smiled sweetly.
“Oh, you noticed! I figured your feet might appreciate some ornamentation while they were breathing.”
“You humiliated me!”
Diane nodded.
“I asked you to move your foot three times. You refused.”
Diane nodded.
“And you were exceptionally rude about it.”
“I want to speak to whoever is in charge here!”
The flight attendant stepped closer.
The attendant glanced downward.
“Sir, what seems to be the issue?”
“Look at my feet! This woman did this while I was asleep!”
The attendant glanced downward.
“Well, sir, I suggest you put your shoes on. And please keep your limbs within your own seating area.”
“That isn’t the point!”
He bent down, angrily tugging at the rings.
“This might help.”
The purple one slipped off easily. The pink one refused to budge.
Diane held out a napkin.
“Here. This might help you get a better grip.”
“I don’t need your assistance!”
He yanked again, nearly losing his balance.
The ring popped free.
Someone behind us snorted.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” he snapped.
Finally, the ring popped free.
He shoved it into his pocket and marched off toward the restroom, his bright pink toenails still on full display.
Diane leaned toward me.
I chuckled.
“I think he’s going to remember you.”
I chuckled.
“Oh, I’m counting on it.”
Because what that fellow didn’t realize was that I already knew precisely who he was.
And if he thought a pink pedicure was the worst thing that could happen to him this week, he was in for a very unpleasant awakening.
“Mommy!”
By the time I finally reached home, I was completely exhausted.
“Mommy!”
Megan came racing down the hallway and hurled herself into my embrace.
“Did you miss me?” I asked.
“Yes! Did you bring me anything?”
Megan gasped.
I laughed.
“Well, someone definitely has their priorities straight.”
I pulled the Barbie nail-polish set and the remaining plastic rings from my bag.
Megan gasped.
“Oh my gosh! Mom, they’re stunning!”
I laughed.
She instantly tore open the box, inspecting the glittering rings before spotting something odd.
“Wait. Why are some of these bottles open?”
“Funny story, sweetheart. I had to borrow a little polish on the plane.”
“For what?”
I sat beside her on the couch and explained the whole ordeal.
“Only his feet.”
By the time I got to the part about the massive plastic rings, Megan was practically rolling across the floor.
“Mom! You gave a grown man a Barbie makeover?”
“Only his feet.”
“Did he like it?”
“Not particularly.”
“That’s incredible!”
She dissolved into fits of laughter once more.
“What color did you use?”
“Almost every shade. His big toe was hot pink, and I gave the rest a lovely assortment.”
“Mom! That’s amazing!”
She snatched the brightest bottle and immediately started painting her own toenails.
“With who?”
“Careful, sweetheart. We have an early morning tomorrow.”
“Why? Do you have to work?”
“I have a very important meeting.”
“With who?”
“Some people I’ve never worked with before.”
“Careful, sweetheart.”
Megan inspected her freshly painted toenail.
“Are you nervous, Mom?”
“A little. I’m meeting some people I’ve never worked with before.”
“You’ll do great. You’re really good at talking to people.”
“That’s sweet of you.”
I burst out laughing.
Eagerly, she held up the pink polish.
“And if anyone’s mean, you know what to do.”
I burst out laughing.
“I don’t think that’s appropriate office conduct.”
“Well, it worked on the airplane!”
“Goodnight.”
I couldn’t argue with that logic.
After helping her finish her nails, I tucked her into bed and kissed her forehead.
“Goodnight, my little troublemaker.”
“Goodnight, Mommy. Good luck tomorrow!”
I smiled as I clicked off the light.
“Good luck tomorrow!”
Tomorrow promised to be interesting.
The next morning, I chose my favorite navy-blue pantsuit, brewed myself a strong cup of coffee, and checked my phone.
Three messages were waiting for me, all concerning the crucial meeting scheduled for ten o’clock.
I read through them, replied to a couple of inquiries, and glanced up at the clock.
She examined me.
“Mommy, you’re going to be late!”
Megan was sitting at the kitchen table, eating cereal while wearing two enormous plastic rings.
“Actually, sweetheart, I’m right on schedule.”
She inspected me thoughtfully.
“Are you going to tell everyone at work about the airplane?”
“I’m right on schedule.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
“Some stories are better left at thirty thousand feet.”
Megan shook her head.
“I think everybody should know about the Barbie feet.”
“Absolutely not.”
I smiled. “Maybe someday. Now finish your cereal.”
“Can I tell Grandma?”
“Please don’t.”
She grinned, which signaled to me that Grandma would likely know everything by lunchtime.
“Thank you.”
After dropping Megan off at school, I drove over to the office.
The receptionist greeted me warmly as I stepped into the building.
“Good morning! Everyone is gathering upstairs.”
“Perfect. Thank you.”
I checked my watch. Ten minutes early.
I stopped walking.
As I approached the conference room, I heard laughter spilling from inside.
Someone was telling a tale.
“You should’ve seen this crazy woman! Completely ruined my flight!”
I stopped walking.
Wait a second.
I moved closer.
I recognized that voice.
I crept closer to the ajar door.
“She actually painted my toenails while I was asleep!” the man continued indignantly.
A woman laughed.
“You’re kidding!”
“I wish I were! Some people have zero manners!”
A woman laughed.
I pressed my lips together.
Of all the things he could have shared.
Another voice chimed in:
“Well, what did you do to make her so mad?”
“Nothing! Absolutely nothing! She just couldn’t mind her own business!”
I stayed put.
I checked my watch once more.
Five minutes until the meeting.
I could have walked straight inside. Instead, I held my ground.
Something told me this story was about to get even better.
“Honestly, I should’ve reported her to the police,” the man pressed on.
“For harassing me!”
I nearly laughed aloud.
A woman inside the conference room asked, “For painting your toenails?”
“For harassing me! I was minding my own business when she started complaining about literally nothing.”
“What was she complaining about?” another man asked.
“Something regarding personal space. Ridiculous, truly. The woman expected everyone to accommodate her.”
He snorted.
He conveniently neglected to mention that his bare foot had been resting on my armrest.
“So why did she paint your nails?”
He snorted.
“Some women simply cannot handle being told no.”
A few people laughed awkwardly.
A few people laughed.
“Well, at least she chose a nice color,” someone joked.
“Very funny,” he snapped. “Do you have any idea how difficult that stuff is to remove?”
That earned him another wave of laughter.
I pressed a hand over my mouth. Apparently, Megan’s nail polish was worth every penny.
“I expect my promotion.”
“Anyway, enough about that lunatic,” he carried on. “We have much more important matters to discuss.”
“Like our new regional director?” someone asked.
“Precisely.”
His tone suddenly shifted to one of supreme confidence.
“ strictly between us, I expect my promotion will be announced very soon.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“That’s optimistic, Bradley,” a colleague replied.
“Optimistic? I’ve practically been running this place already.”
“Nobody’s even met the new director yet.”
“Doesn’t matter. I know how to handle people in charge.”
I raised my eyebrows.
Oh, did he?
Bradley chuckled.
“First impressions are everything,” Bradley continued. “You walk in, shake hands, project confidence. That’s how you get ahead.”
“And what if the new director dislikes you?” someone teased.
Bradley chuckled.
“Please. What’s not to like?”
I almost lost it.
I had several potential answers to that question.
“I guarantee I’ll have this person eating out of my hand before lunch,” he added.
I almost lost it.
Just then, footsteps approached from behind me. Sophie, my assistant, appeared holding a folder.
I almost lost it.
She glanced toward the conference room, then back at me.
“Ready?”
I straightened my jacket and adjusted the folder tucked beneath my arm.
“Oh, absolutely.”
Bradley was right about one thing.
I walked inside.
First impressions truly were everything.
Sophie swung the conference-room door open.
“Everyone, our new regional director is here.”
I walked inside.
The room fell silent.
His smile vanished.
Bradley sat near the head of the table, wearing a smug grin.
Then he spotted me. His smile vanished.
For a second, he looked as though someone had struck him directly in the stomach.
I smiled pleasantly.
“Good morning. I’m Rebecca. And unless I’m mistaken, we’ve already met.”
He saw me.
Bradley’s jaw dropped.
“You?”
I approached him and extended my hand.
“It’s wonderful to see you again, Bradley. How are your feet?”
Someone snorted.
“I had no idea.”
Then several people burst into laughter.
Bradley stared at my hand before reluctantly shaking it.
“I had no idea you worked here.”
“And I had no idea you worked here. Small world.”
His face had turned an impressive shade of beet red.
Bradley swallowed.
I glanced around the table.
“I believe Bradley was just sharing an interesting flight story with you all.”
The laughter died down. Bradley swallowed.
“Well, I… It wasn’t exactly…”
“Oh, please, don’t stop on my account. I’d love to hear the version where you explain why your bare foot was resting on my armrest.”
“Your WHAT?”
A man near the window dropped his pen.
“Your WHAT?” someone exclaimed.
Bradley cast around frantically.
“It was a simple misunderstanding!”
“Really? Because I clearly recall asking you to move it multiple times.”
Bradley looked around.
“Rebecca, surely we can discuss this privately—”
“Of course. But since you’ve already shared your version with everyone, I figured they might appreciate the missing details.”
A woman across the table started laughing.
“Guilty.”
“Wait. You’re the woman with the nail polish?”
“Guilty.”
“Oh my God!”
Bradley covered his face in his hands.
I waited until the laughter subsided before proceeding.
I took my seat.
“Bradley, I overheard everything you said outside this room. Including how you treat people who apparently aren’t important enough to impress.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Fortunately, we’re going to have plenty of chances to get acquainted.”
I walked to the head of the table and assumed my seat.
I heard everything you said.
“Now, before we discuss anyone’s promotion, perhaps we should discuss what mutual respect actually entails.”
Bradley stared fixedly at his notebook.
For once, he had absolutely nothing to say.
Following the meeting, Bradley approached me.
“Apology accepted.”
“I’m sorry about the flight incident,” he muttered.
“Apology accepted. Your promotion will depend entirely on your work ethic and how you treat your peers. Nothing else.”
He nodded and turned to leave.
Then his trouser leg shifted, exposing a faint pink stain near his ankle.
“Bradley?”
He stopped dead in his tracks.
“You missed a spot.”
“Yes?”
I smiled.
“You missed a spot.”
He looked down in sheer horror.
I laughed.
That evening, I informed Megan that her Barbie polish had made quite an impression.
“Did he like it this time?” she asked.
I laughed.
“Let’s just say he finally learned to keep his feet to himself.”
