At Las Vegas Airport, I witnessed an entitled woman’s shocking behavior with her dog. Little did she know, her actions would set off a chain of events that would leave us both questioning the nature of justice and karma.
I arrived at Las Vegas Airport at 6:30 a.m., bleary-eyed and desperate for coffee. As I trudged towards my gate, I spotted a woman with a small dog on a leash. She was engrossed in a FaceTime call, oblivious to her surroundings.
“Oh my God, Stacey, you won’t believe what happened last night,” she shrieked into her phone.
I rolled my eyes and was about to move on when I noticed her dog squatting down. Right there on the airport floor.
Mei was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “Well, that was certainly… creative.”
I groaned. “I’m a terrible person, aren’t I?”
“No,” Mei said firmly. “You made a mistake, yes. But terrible people don’t feel bad about their actions.”
Her words were kind, but they didn’t erase my guilt. “What should I do?”
Mei thought for a moment. “Well, you can’t undo what’s done. But maybe this can be a turning point. A reminder to think before you act, even when you’re angry.”
I nodded slowly. “You’re right. I just hope she learned something too.”
“Maybe she did,” Mei said. “Sometimes it takes a shock to make us realize our behavior isn’t okay.”
As we began our descent into London, I made a silent promise to myself. I’d use this experience as a lesson, a reminder to be better, even when faced with difficult people.
The plane touched down, and as we taxied to the gate, Mei turned to me one last time. “Remember, Nora, we’re all works in progress. The important thing is to keep trying to be better.”
I smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Mei. For listening and for the wisdom.”
As we disembarked, I couldn’t help but scan the faces in the airport, half expecting to see the woman from Vegas. She wasn’t there, of course, but the memory of her, and my actions, would stay with me for a long time.
I didn’t know if she’d made it back before we took off, but I hadn’t seen her aboard, and I hadn’t heard her dog. Missing her flight wasn’t my original intention, but it felt like the universe balancing the scales for her appalling behavior.
Yet as I walked through the airport, I realized the scales don’t always balance so neatly. Sometimes, they just keep tipping, leaving us to find our equilibrium in the chaos of human interactions.
What would you have done?