✈️ Chaos in the Terminal, Courtesy of One Woman and Her Dog: JFK was already a pressure cooker—delays, long lines, and frayed tempers. But one woman turned the terminal into a full-blown spectacle. Dressed in a red coat and armed with a rhinestone-collared puffball of a dog, she FaceTimed loudly without headphones, her voice slicing through the crowd like a siren. Her dog squatted mid-terminal, leaving a mess on the tile. When an elderly man gently pointed it out, she snapped, “Mind your business, Grandpa,” and walked off like royalty.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. A mother shielded her child’s eyes. Another traveler demanded she clean it up. Her response? “They have people for that.” The entitlement was staggering.
🚨 TSA Showdown: At security, she bulldozed past the line, dropped her tote at the front, and declared, “I have PreCheck. My dog gets anxious.” The agent calmly pointed her to the correct line. She refused. Then came the shoe debacle—she insisted her boots were TSA-friendly slides. When told otherwise, she threatened to sue. Eventually, she complied, muttering curses as her dog barked at everything in sight.
🎭 The Gate Moment: By the time we reached the gate, the crowd was drained. Her dog had barked at babies, elderly travelers, and rolling suitcases. She blasted music from her phone, argued about a refund, and let her dog chew on trash. No leash. No boundaries.
So I sat beside her. Calm. Smiling. And I did something simple—but effective. I pulled out a small treat from my bag, one meant for my own dog waiting at home. Her dog perked up instantly, tail wagging. I held it out, and the dog leapt into my lap. She shrieked, “Give him back!” But the dog stayed put, nuzzling me.
I looked her dead in the eye and said, “He deserves better.” The gate agent, having witnessed the chaos, stepped in. “Ma’am, you’ll need to wait over there.” She was escorted to a separate area, fuming.
The terminal exhaled. Peace, at last.
