What began as just another work trip turned into the ultimate example of “you snooze, you lose.” I settled into my aisle seat on the plane, savoring the thought of the meal about to be served. Starving, I excused myself for a quick restroom break. When I returned, my tray had vanished—and next to me sat Mr. “Important,” smugly devouring my dinner as though it was his own.
He shrugged when I asked, “You know that was my meal, right?”—“You were gone too long,” he said. “Can’t let good food go to waste.” I was stunned, forced to eat a pathetic little bag of pretzels instead.
But karma waited until we landed. The flight attendants announced that anyone who’d eaten the chicken meal—yes, the same one he’d stolen—must immediately report to the galley due to a potential food safety issue.
Mr. Important froze mid-bite. Panic replaced his arrogance. He looked at his plate, then me. “Do you think it’s serious?” he asked, voice trembling. “Like… food poisoning?” I just shrugged, “Could be. Good thing I skipped it.” He broke in a sweat, glaring pale, while I sat smugly, snacking on my non-toxic pretzels. As we disembarked, I heard he’d missed his connection. Meanwhile, I made my flight—proof that sometimes karma does its job at 30,000 feet.
