What followed was pure satisfaction. I laid it all out to the flight attendant, from the ear-splitting movie to the impromptu lap dance. The couple’s “we’re in love” excuse didn’t fly—literally. With mounting complaints and a violation of airline safety rules, the stewardess ordered them both back to economy,

stripping Dave of his upgrade. Their red-faced shuffle of shame felt like justice served at 30,000 feet. As peace finally returned to my seat, a fellow passenger gave me a thumbs-up and chuckled, “Well played, son.” I sipped my celebratory drink, leaned back, and savored the silence—because sometimes, karma flies first class.