Dear Bitchy Lady on the American Airlines Flight from Baltimore to Miami on November 2,
You don’t know me, but just the fact that I’m using the B word to describe you means you suck…big time.
The same day I was leaving for my vacation I found out I was miscarrying. Again. And your attitude while we were boarding made my day worse. So thanks. Thanks a lot for that.
Let me refresh your memory….
B Lady’s Nice Friend: Oh, they’re in Group 3, so they should go ahead of us. We’re Group 4.
B Lady: You’re in Group 3?
Thoughtsy and Kiefer: Yes.
B Lady: Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to cut in front of a Group 3. Oh no! Please go ahead of me, Group 3 people.
Then you repeated that for the next 5 minutes while we waited to board the plane. Boo and Radley were more mature than you.
B Lady, I’m sorry you can’t count. I’m sorry the airline put you in a group behind us. I’m sorry you got in line before your group number was even called.
I’m sorry I didn’t let you go first just to make you feel like an ass. But I was tired and bleeding, and I just wanted to find my seat, go to sleep, and forget that I was miscarrying.
I don’t know what prompted your attitude, but whatever it was, I’m sorry. I hope you’re feeling better today.
You see, I try to be nice to everyone because I know no matter how bad of a day I’m having, someone is having a worse one.
That said, if I ever see you again, I’m punching you in the face.