At Las Vegas Airport, I witnessed an entitled woman’s shocking behavior with her dog.

Little did she know, her actions would set off a chain of events that would leave us both questioning the nature of justice and karma. I arrived at Las Vegas Airport at 6:30 a.m., bleary-eyed and desperate for coffee. As I trudged towards my gate, I spotted a woman with a small dog on a leash. She was engrossed in a FaceTime call, oblivious to her surroundings.

“Oh my God, Stacey, you won’t believe what happened last night,” she shrieked into her phone.I rolled my eyes and was about to move on when I noticed her dog squatting down. Right there on the airport floor. “Excuse me, miss?” A middle-aged man nearby tried to get her attention. “Your dog is…”

The woman shot him a glare that could’ve melted steel. “Some people are just so damned rude,” she complained to her friend on the phone. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The dog finished its business, and the woman started walking away, leaving the mess behind.

“You’re not going to clean that up?” another bystander asked, shock evident in her voice. The woman turned, her face twisted in disgust. “They have people for that,” she snapped. Then, she spotted an airport cleaner nearby. Her voice dripped with entitlement as she yelled, “Do your job! I’m not going to do it for you!”

The young airport worker, a guy probably in his early twenties, looked stunned. His face flushed red as he stammered, “Ma’am, I… that’s not… you’re supposed to…” But the woman had already turned, disappearing into the crowd. The worker stood there, looking utterly deflated. He glanced around as if hoping someone would tell him this was all a bad joke.

I couldn’t stay silent anymore. I approached him, saying, “Hey, you okay? That woman was way out of line.” He sighed. “Thanks. I just… I don’t even know how to handle that. It’s not even my department.” “Don’t worry about it,” I assured him. “We saw the whole thing. It’s not your fault.” He nodded gratefully and hurried off, probably to find someone who could actually deal with the mess.

My blood boiled. Who did this woman think she was? I approached the mess, warning people to watch their step. A kind stranger went to find a maintenance worker. “Can you believe that?” I asked the man who’d tried to alert the woman earlier. He shook his head. “Flying with pets is a privilege, not a right. Some people just don’t get it.”

“I’m Nora,” I said, extending my hand. “Jasper,” he replied, shaking it. “Heading somewhere nice?” “London, for work. You?” “Tokyo. Business trip.” We chatted for a few minutes before parting ways. I couldn’t shake my anger as I walked to my gate. And then I saw her again.

The entitled woman was sitting near my gate, her dog now barking incessantly. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she was blasting music from her phone without headphones. Other passengers were moving away, but I had a different idea. I sat down right next to her. “Are you going to Tokyo on business?” I asked, faking a friendly tone. She barely glanced at me. “I’m going to London,” she snapped.

I widened my eyes in mock surprise. “Oh no! Then you better hurry. That flight got moved to gate 53C. This is the flight to Tokyo.” Her eyes bulged. Without even checking the monitor, she grabbed her bags and dog and stormed off. I couldn’t help but grin. The gate monitor still clearly showed “London,” but she was too self-absorbed to notice.

As boarding time approached, I kept an eye out for her return. The final call came and went, but there was no sign of her or her yappy dog. I settled into my seat, feeling a strange combination of satisfaction and guilt. As the plane began to taxi, I realized she must have missed the flight.

The woman next to me smiled. “First time flying to London?” “No, I go for work pretty often. I’m Nora.” “Mei,” she replied. “I noticed that commotion earlier with the woman and her dog. Did you see her get on?” I shook my head. “I don’t think she made it back in time.” Mei’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? Wow, that’s… unfortunate.”

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Yeah, well… karma, I guess.” Mei nodded slowly. “I suppose. Still, it seems a bit harsh. Missing a flight is a big deal.” Her words made me squirm in my seat. Had I gone too far? “You’re right,” I admitted. “I just got so angry seeing how she treated everyone.” Mei patted my arm. “We all have our moments. The important thing is to learn from them.”

As the plane took off, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d done. Missing her flight wasn’t my original intention, but it felt like the universe balanced the scales over her appalling behavior. Still, Mei’s words stuck with me. Had I really taught her a lesson, or just stooped to her level?

The flight attendant’s voice jolted me from my thoughts. “Drinks, ladies?” “Water, please,” Mei said. I nodded. “Same for me, thanks.” As we sipped our drinks, Mei turned to me. “So, what takes you to London so often?” I welcomed the distraction. “I work for a tech company. We’re expanding our European operations.”

“Sounds exciting,” Mei said. “Any favorite spots in the city?” We spent the next hour chatting about London, our jobs, and travel stories. It was a pleasant diversion from my gnawing guilt. Halfway through the flight, I excused myself to use the restroom. As I waited in line, I overheard a conversation that made my stomach drop.

“Yeah, some lady missed her flight because someone gave her the wrong gate number,” a man was saying. “She was raising hell at customer service when I left.” I felt the color drain from my face. It was real now. I actually caused her to miss her flight. Back in my seat, I must have looked as bad as I felt because Mei asked, “Are you okay? You look a bit pale.”

I considered lying, but the guilt was eating me up. “Can I tell you something? Promise not to judge?” Mei nodded, her expression serious. I took a deep breath and spilled everything. The dog incident, my anger, the false gate information. By the time I finished, I felt like the worst person in the world.

Mei was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “Well, that was certainly… creative.” I groaned. “I’m a terrible person, aren’t I?” “No,” Mei said firmly. “You made a mistake, yes. But terrible people don’t feel bad about their actions.” Her words were kind, but they didn’t erase my guilt. “What should I do?”

Mei thought for a moment. “Well, you can’t undo what’s done. But maybe this can be a turning point. A reminder to think before you act, even when you’re angry.” I nodded slowly. “You’re right. I just hope she learned something too.” “Maybe she did,” Mei said. “Sometimes it takes a shock to make us realize our behavior isn’t okay.”

As we began our descent into London, I made a silent promise to myself. I’d use this experience as a lesson, a reminder to be better, even when faced with difficult people. The plane touched down, and as we taxied to the gate, Mei turned to me one last time. “Remember, Nora, we’re all works in progress. The important thing is to keep trying to be better.”

I smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Mei. For listening and for the wisdom.” As we disembarked, I couldn’t help but scan the faces in the airport, half expecting to see the woman from Vegas. She wasn’t there, of course, but the memory of her, and my actions, would stay with me for a long time. I didn’t know if she’d made it back before we took off, but I hadn’t seen her aboard, and I hadn’t heard her dog.

Missing her flight wasn’t my original intention, but it felt like the universe balancing the scales for her appalling behavior. Yet as I walked through the airport, I realized the scales don’t always balance so neatly. Sometimes, they just keep tipping, leaving us to find our equilibrium in the chaos of human interactions.