Recently my wife and I were flying from Vienna to Bucharest. Seated with us was a young woman from Canada whose flight to Toronto the previous day had been canceled. She was being rerouted via Romania, and she had a tight connection.

When we landed, she worked her way through the crowd as quickly as possible and disappeared ahead of us. We passed a door for connecting flights and assumed she went there, but when we got to passport control she was in the non-citizen line about twelve places back. She told us she’d tried to go to her connecting flight but was redirected here. The line was moving glacially and she would never make her new flight. Frustrated, she began to cry, and my wife and I tried to comfort her.

Then, a woman in the line for citizens noticed what was going on and walked over. She intuited what was happening and went to the front of our line. With gestures, she convinced the people at the head of the line to let the young woman and another man in an identical situation to go next.

When the official at passport control heard their story she left her booth and lead them to the area behind it, where she found someone to take them to their plane. Since there was still close to thirty minutes left, I believe they made the flight.

(My husband, daughters, and I are preparing to leave for our first trip to Disney World, so we’re all very excited. I have a somewhat unusual name. For clarity’s sake, let’s say that my full legal name is “Penelope Piggott-Montmorency,” but I always go by “Penny.” We’re Canadian, so we need passports to fly.)

Employee: *checking my boarding pass and passport* “Did you know that your boarding pass says, ‘Penny,’ but your passport says, ‘Penelope’?”

Me: “Oh, I always go by ‘Penny,’ so that’s what I put when I was booking our flights. Is that a problem?”

Employee: “Um, yes. Don’t you remember the airline website telling you that you have to use the same name as the one on your passport?”

Me: “Oh, boy, you’re right. I totally forgot.”

Employee: *continues to hang on to my documents* “I’m thinking seriously about not letting you get on the plane.”

Me: “What?!” *my kids start to cry* “But we’re going to Disney World! Is there anything I can do? I didn’t mean to use the wrong name! And you can see that the photo in the passport is definitely me.”

Employee: *smirks* “Rules are there for a reason, ma’am.”

(Just then, another airport employee joins us.)

Employee #2: “What’s the problem here?”

Employee: “She’s trying to board with a boarding pass that has a different name from her passport.”

Employee #2: *glances at documents* “You must be kidding. How many ‘Penny/Penelope Piggott-Montmorencys’ do you think the world has? Especially ones whose pictures match the woman standing in front of you? Let her and her family on the d*** plane.” *to me* “Enjoy your trip, ma’am. But next time, make sure you book your flight with the name ‘Penelope,’ just to avoid this kind of hassle again.” *glares at colleague*

(Ever since then, I’ve used my full legal name every time I fly, even when it’s domestic.)

(My boyfriend and I are in Ontario to see his family and also to go to a concert. I generally get along very well with his relatives, but his grandparents can be a bit… brash. They don’t have much of a filter and always have to say their opinion. Most of the time they mean well; they’re nice people. But sometimes it comes off as a “holier-than-thou” attitude. This is one instance where I wish I’d spoken up for myself. For context, my boyfriend and I paid for everything for this trip, as we’re in our 20s and have relatively good jobs; we’re also in college, so we’ve been saving for this trip for a while. Our parents did not pay for our flights, concert tickets, gas, or any expenses, nor did we expect them to. We are driving back to the airport with his grandmother.)

Grandmother: “It was so nice to have you two down here; you should come back more often! We’d love to see you more!”

Me: “We’ll definitely try to come back soon, maybe next year after we graduate.”

Boyfriend: “Yeah, this trip was expensive, but it’s nice to have a break from school. I wish we could travel all the time, but we’ll probably have to wait until we get jobs in our field.”

Grandmother: “Yes, that would be a good idea. Both of you will get good jobs, and then you won’t have to use mommy and daddy’s money!”

Me: *speechless*

(She said it so casually, as if she knew this for a fact. I was extremely angry. I held my tongue, and we both gave curt goodbyes at the airport. As soon as she left, my boyfriend turned to me and said, “We’re not coming back to see her if that’s what she thinks of us.” I agreed. I told my parents when we got back home and they were annoyed, too, but more amused at the fact they actually thought our parents paid for all our things while we are more than capable of taking care of ourselves. Needless to say, we don’t talk to my boyfriend’s grandparents that much, and we don’t plan to waste OUR money going to see them again.)

(I am standing in line to get a seat assignment for a flight from Vienna to New York. A young woman in front of me is called to the agent and immediately starts in on a sob story.)

Woman: “I need to be upgraded to first class. I get air-sick if I don’t have enough room.”

Agent: “I’d be happy to upgrade you. The difference in fare is [price]. I can charge that to a credit card if you’d like.”

Woman: “You don’t understand. I cannot pay that. You need to upgrade me at no charge so I don’t get sick.”

Agent: “I understand that, ma’am, but if you want to be upgraded, you need to pay the fare difference.”

Woman: *starts crying* “But I need to be upgraded.”

(This goes back and forth for a while with the agent calmly responding to her demands as she gets more and more agitated. Finally, she starts yelling at him.)

Woman: “I see you don’t care and you want me to be sick! When I’m sick on the plane, it will be your fault because you didn’t upgrade me.”

(The agent has had enough.)

Agent: “Ma’am, the only way I can upgrade you is if you pay the price difference. I’m happy to do that for you, but otherwise I cannot upgrade you. Unless you want to pay that, I’m going to have to insist that you take the seat I’ve assigned you and stop wasting the time of everyone behind you.”

(She stomps off, still crying, and I am called to the counter. The agent greets me with a huge smile and says:)

Agent: “Sir, it’s your lucky day. I’ve got an exit row seat available with no seat in front of it and extra room with priority boarding. Would you like that seat?”

(I gladly accepted it and looked over to see Little Miss Entitled glaring daggers at me and the agent. Unfortunately, I didn’t see any evidence that she had learned that treating people with respect rather than demanding things with patently phony requests might serve her better.)

(I am going on holiday with my friend, and a man runs up to us and grabs me.)

Man: “Hey, tell me where I go for my flight.”

Me: “I do not work here, so I can’t tell you.”

Man: “You screw-up! I’ll call [Airline]’s manager and tell them you aren’t prepared to help me, and therefore you should be fired!”

Me: “But I don’t work for [Airline].”

Friend: “No, he doesn’t.”

Man: “Well, if I miss my flight, it’s thanks to [Airline] for hiring you two idiots!”

Friend: “Likely, and tell me when security arrive!”

(My friend and I are both laughing now, and the man storms off, muttering rude things under his breath.)

Man: *across from terminal exit* “WHY? I MISSED MY FLIGHT BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T TELL ME WHERE IT WAS! I HATE YOUR AIRLINE!”

(I walk up to him and ask him which was his flight.)

Man: “[Flight number] at [time of departure].”

Me: “That flight leaves at 18:55, and it’s 12:04. It leaves from Gate 12, Terminal 1, and we were at Gate 54, Terminal 3.”

Man: “Oh.” *walks off*

Me: *to friend* “And he was calling me a screw-up!”

(We laughed until we figured out we were about to miss our flight!)