I'm standing in the aisle at my assigned position as the safety video plays before take off. It's my last leg of the day.
A middle-aged woman sitting in a middle seat two rows in front of where I'm standing yells out. She's arguing with the passenger next to her, also a middle-aged woman who is in the aisle next to her. I observe as the woman retorts back at an inaudible level before I approach.
"Is everything okay?" I ask both passengers.
"She's putting her arm in my space, " explains the woman sitting in the aisle as she points out the space next to her arm.
"I have a right to put my arm here," boldly declares the middle seat woman.
They. are. arguing. over. the. armrest.
"We have 2 hours and 38 minutes in the air. If you two can't work it out, we will have to go back to the gate right now or divert the flight," I calmly explain.
They continue to bicker but at a softer level. I repeat myself a bit louder.
One woman grudgingly looks to her left out the window, the other looks down at her hands in her lap. Both women are trying to ignore me.
"Excuse me ladies, do you understand what I'm saying. I need some type of response."
"Yes," they feebly mutter as they glance up and then quickly away.
"Thanks," I state firmly before walking away. A passenger two rows behind me chuckles.
I inform the lead flight attendant of "the situation." Together, we check in on the women to reinforce the gravity and pettiness of the disagreement.
They are both silent and at peace.
Several minutes later as I walk to my seat, the middle-seat woman looks up and gives me the evil eye.
I stare directly back as I send her a telepathic message to quit acting like a fool.
Our flight takes off. We reach our destination on time.
I have no idea who won the armrest war.
And like the Starbucks cup, I really don't care. There are so many more important things to worry about.
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