She touched her hair and froze, panic washing over her face. “What…is…this?” she screamed, struggling to free her locks from the sticky mess. Without diverting my gaze from the TV, I coolly replied, “This is the result of your arrogance.”
“You’re insane!” she shot back, her voice laced with disbelief. “And you are disrespectful,” I countered. “Now, you have two options: you can either continue this flight looking like this and risk having to shave half your hair off, or I can assist you right now with a small pair of scissors I have in my bag. What will it be?”
Her face drained of color as the reality of her situation sank in. I leaned in closer, speaking softly yet firmly, “If you throw your hair like that again, you’ll find yourself bald next time. I’m very precise—even in turbulence.”
From that moment on, she sat in silence, her hair neatly tied back into a tight bun. I finally allowed myself to relax and immerse in the movie. At last, I could savor the peace I had so desperately sought.
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