On a flight to visit my ailing grandmother, I found myself seated next to a man who, in his mid-fifties,an arrogant man. I was already tense from the stress of my grandmother’s declining health, but the man’s attitude only made matters worse.

As a 26-year-old freelance graphic designer, my laptop is essential to both my work and my connection to family. It was a lifeline, and I was determined to get some work done during the flight. I had hoped the time in the air would help distract me from my worries.

However, the situation took a turn for the worse when the man beside me ordered a drink. In his careless manner, he managed to spill the drink all over my lap and, most importantly, my laptop. My immediate reaction was shock, followed by anger, but the man only gave me a condescending smirk and muttered something dismissive, suggesting I shouldn’t overreact.

His lack of an apology and the wrecked state of my laptop left me speechless. As I struggled to clean it off, the reality hit that my computer, my work tool, was destroyed.

As the flight progressed, the captain announced that severe weather had led to canceled connections. The news created a ripple of anxiety in the cabin, but to my surprise, I felt strangely calm. My priority was getting to my grandmother, and nothing else seemed as urgent.

The man, on the other hand, quickly descended into panic. He was frantically checking his phone, muttering about an important meeting he couldn’t afford to miss. His panic stood in stark contrast to the bravado he had shown earlier.

While others scrambled to make alternate plans, I quietly began rebooking my flight, using the in-flight Wi-Fi. The man noticed and, desperate, asked to use my phone. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction as I calmly responded, “No, I’m afraid I can’t help you. Why don’t you go cry about it?”

His face fell, and I turned back to my own rebooking, leaving him speechless. As the plane landed and passengers rushed to make arrangements, I remained calm, focused on my grandmother and the important things in life.

In the end, my laptop was still ruined, but I had found a sense of peace. The man’s earlier arrogance had been met with a fitting dose of irony, and I felt that, in some small way, a little relief.