Dear Passenger Who Decided Christmas Eve Was the Day to Open a Full Gift Bag Mid Flight

Dear Passenger Who Decided Christmas Eve Was the Day to Open a Full Gift Bag Mid Flight,

First of all, Merry Christmas. Truly. But the moment we hit cruising altitude on this Christmas Eve flight, you reached into your carry on and pulled out an entire gift bag, complete with tissue paper, boxes, and what I swear was a bow the size of a wreath.

Sir, this is not your living room. This is row 18. At 30,000 feet. While the rest of us are quietly spiraling about connections, weather delays, and whether we will ever emotionally recover from this holiday.

You started unwrapping like there was a countdown clock. Tissue paper crinkling. Boxes opening. Something metallic clanking. I half expected Mariah Carey to rise from the aisle and start singing.

Then you handed the gift to your seatmate. On Christmas Eve. On a plane. And waited.

WAITED.

We all had to sit there while this stranger opened it, smiled politely, and pretended this was normal behavior and not a hostage situation disguised as holiday cheer.

I don’t know what was in that box. Frankly, I don’t care. Because the real gift was the secondhand anxiety you gave the rest of us, wondering if we were now obligated to applaud or start passing around eggnog.

Sincerely,

Just Trying to Get Home for the Holidays

(currently reconsidering flying again between December 20 and January 5)