When an inconsiderate passenger refused to take his bare foot off my armrest, I secretly gave him a colorful pedicure as he slept. He was furious when he discovered it, unaware that our paths would soon cross again.

Four hours into a packed flight, something warm brushed against my elbow. When I looked down, I discovered five bare toes resting across my armrest.

Then the odor reached me.

I turned around. The man sitting behind me appeared to be about forty-five. He wore an expensive wristwatch and headphones, while his discarded shoes sat beneath his seat.

“Excuse me. Would you mind moving your foot?”

He pulled one side of his headphones away.

“They need some air.”

“It’s not even touching you.”

“Your foot is on my armrest.”

“My feet have to breathe.”

“Then they can breathe in your own space.”

He flashed an arrogant little smile. “We’re on an airplane. Everyone has to share the space.”

He looked toward my other arm, evidently believing his comfort should take priority over mine.

“Just use your other armrest and leave me alone.”

He put his headphones back on, flexed his toes, and I turned forward again.

Ten minutes passed before turbulence caused his toes to rub against my sleeve. I looked back once more.

“I’m serious. Please move your foot.”

He released an exaggerated sigh, behaving as though I were causing the problem.

“Lady, it’s only a foot. You’re reacting like I stuck it in your dinner.”

The woman beside me scrunched up her nose.

“That’s revolting.”

He laughed at both of us.

“You ladies seriously need to calm down.”

“Fine.”

I realized continuing the argument would be pointless. As far as he was concerned, he’d already gotten his way.

Around twenty minutes afterward, he fell asleep, his uncovered foot still resting just inches from my arm. Suddenly, a rather naughty idea entered my head. I understood how absurd it was, but after being ignored repeatedly, I had little interest in showing him any more consideration.

I turned toward the woman beside me.

“Could you block his view if he happens to wake up?”

Her eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Why?”

I moved closer and whispered my plan into her ear. She immediately covered her mouth to suppress her laughter.

“Wait, you’re seriously going to do that? You’re my queen,” she murmured, giving me a playful wink.

The passenger continued snoring. She moved closer to me.

“I’m Diane, by the way,” she whispered.

“Rebecca.”

“Well, Rebecca, I can officially say this is the funniest flight I’ve ever been on.”

The sleeping man remained completely unaware.

“Just make sure you tell me if he starts waking up.”

Diane gave a solemn nod.

“You can count on me to keep watch.”

I reached beneath the seat in front of me, pulled out my carry-on bag, and carefully unzipped it.

I’d spent the previous five days traveling for work, and my eight-year-old daughter, Megan, was eagerly awaiting a special gift. She loved Barbie dolls and practically everything pink. When I spotted a Barbie-inspired beauty collection in a gift shop, I knew it would be perfect for her.

Inside were six shades of pink nail polish and several plastic rings decorated with enormous fake gemstones. Some of the stones were nearly golf-ball-sized. I’d intended to give Megan the entire collection that evening, but temporarily using a few items didn’t seem like a major problem.

I selected the most vibrant bottle of polish. Diane examined it approvingly.

“Oh, this is going to look gorgeous.”

“Just don’t let anyone notice.”

She positioned herself to shield me from the other passengers while I leaned toward his foot. With a steady hand, I painted his big toenail a brilliant shade of hot pink.

He remained motionless.

I continued with the remaining visible nails, applying a different pink color to each. Diane’s shoulders trembled as she struggled to contain her laughter.

“You’re actually pretty talented at this.”

“That’s what happens when you spend eight years raising a daughter who considers every weekend a beauty-spa weekend.”

Once the nails were painted, I picked out two plastic rings. One featured an enormous imitation pink diamond, while the other displayed a sparkling purple heart. I carefully placed them around his toes, struggling not to laugh as Diane watched with astonishment.

“I honestly can’t believe he’s sleeping through all this,” Diane whispered.

“Evidently, his feet have better manners when he’s asleep.”

Just then, the man began moving. We both froze immediately. He rubbed his nose, muttered something unintelligible, turned toward the window, and started snoring again.

Diane pressed both hands over her mouth. I tightened the lid on the polish, tucked the remaining presents into my bag, and settled back into my seat to appreciate the result.

Five brilliantly pink toenails and two glittering rings. It looked spectacular.

I wondered how long it would take him to discover his new appearance. Imagining him strolling through the airplane with those decorated toes nearly made me laugh before he’d even woken up.

Approximately forty minutes later, he opened his eyes, stretched, and removed his headphones. He then got up to visit the restroom, apparently deciding he didn’t need to put his shoes back on.

As he walked along the aisle, the oversized plastic gemstones sparkled beneath the cabin lights. One passenger spotted them and burst into laughter. Another person farther back started giggling, and before long, people across several rows were staring at his feet.

Even a flight attendant walking past had trouble maintaining a professional expression.

He frowned at everyone watching him.

“What?”

No one responded. Finally, he glanced downward, and his face flushed bright red. He spun around and glared directly at me.

“What the hell have you done?!”

I responded with the most innocent smile I could manage.

“Oh, you’ve finally noticed! I figured your feet might appreciate a little decoration while they were getting all that fresh air.”

“You made a fool out of me!”

“I requested that you move your foot three separate times. You wouldn’t listen.”

“And you were extremely disrespectful about it.”

“I demand to speak with whoever is responsible here!”

A flight attendant approached to investigate the commotion.

“Sir, can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Just look at my feet! This woman did all this while I was asleep!”

The attendant glanced down at his brightly decorated toes.

“Well, sir, I’d recommend putting your shoes back on. Also, please make sure your feet remain inside your own seating space.”

“That’s completely beside the point!”

He crouched down and began pulling at the rings. The purple ring slid off without difficulty, but the pink one refused to budge. Diane held out a napkin.

“Here, perhaps this will give you a firmer grip.”

“I don’t want your assistance!”

He almost lost his balance before finally freeing the stubborn ring. Someone seated behind us snorted with laughter.

“Oh, give me a break!” he barked.

He shoved the ring into his pocket and marched toward the restroom, his bright pink toenails still plainly visible.

Diane leaned in my direction, looking thoroughly entertained.

“Something tells me he won’t be forgetting you.”

I chuckled softly.

“That’s exactly what I’m hoping.”

What he didn’t realize was that I already knew who he was, and I certainly wasn’t planning to reveal that information during the flight. If he imagined that an unexpected pedicure would be the most embarrassing thing to happen to him that week, he was heading for another unpleasant surprise.

By the time I finally reached home, I was beginning to feel completely worn out.

“Mommy!”

Megan raced down the hallway and threw herself straight into my arms.

“Did you miss me?” I asked her.

“Yes! Did you get me a present?”

I started laughing.

“Well, I see someone knows exactly what’s important.”

I took out the Barbie nail-polish collection and the unused plastic rings. Megan gasped excitedly when she saw them.

“Oh my goodness! Mom, they’re gorgeous!”

She inspected the rings closely before spotting the bottles that had already been opened.

“Hold on. How come some of these are open?”

“That’s actually a funny story, honey. I needed to use a little nail polish during my flight.”

“What for?”

I settled beside her and explained everything that had happened. By the time I reached the part about the ridiculously oversized rings, Megan was practically rolling around on the floor with laughter.

“Mom! You actually gave a grown-up man a Barbie makeover?”

“Just his feet.”

“Was he happy about it?”

“Not exactly.”

“That’s hilarious!”

She broke into another round of giggles.

“Which color did you paint them?”

“Nearly all of them. I painted his big toe hot pink and used a beautiful mixture of shades on the others.”

“Mom! That’s so funny!”

She grabbed the brightest bottle and immediately started painting her own toenails. I reminded her that we had a busy day ahead.

“Be careful, sweetheart. We need to get up early tomorrow.”

“Why? Are you working tomorrow?”

“I have a really important meeting.”

“Who are you meeting?”

“Some people I haven’t worked with before.”

Megan stopped for a moment to admire her newly painted toenail.

“Are you feeling nervous, Mom?”

“A little bit. I’ll be meeting people I’ve never worked with before.”

“You’ll do great. You’re really good at speaking with people.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

She raised her bottle of polish and gave me a mischievous look.

“And if somebody’s rude to you, you already know what to do.”

I burst out laughing.

“I really don’t think that would be acceptable behavior at the office.”

“But it worked perfectly on the plane!”

I couldn’t deny her point. Once she’d finished painting her nails, I helped her into bed and kissed her forehead.

“Goodnight, my little mischief-maker.”

“Goodnight, Mommy. I hope your meeting goes well!”

I switched off her bedroom light with a smile. The following day promised to be interesting.

The next morning, I put on my favorite navy-blue pantsuit, made myself a strong cup of coffee, and looked through my messages. Three had arrived, each concerning my meeting scheduled for ten o’clock. I responded to a couple of questions before glancing at the time.

Megan was sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal, wearing two enormous toy rings that glittered on her fingers.

“Mommy, you’re going to be late!”

“Actually, sweetheart, I’m perfectly on time.”

She carefully studied my clothes.

“Are you going to tell everyone at your office what happened on the airplane?”

“Definitely not.”

“How come?”

“Certain stories are best left thirty thousand feet above the ground.”

Megan shook her head, clearly disagreeing.

“I think everyone deserves to hear about the Barbie feet.”

Her determination made me smile.

“Perhaps another day. For now, eat your cereal.”

“Can I tell Grandma about it?”

“I’d really rather you didn’t.”

Judging by her mischievous smile, Grandma would probably hear the entire story before lunchtime.

After dropping Megan off at school, I headed to my office. The receptionist greeted me warmly when I entered the building.

“Good morning! Everyone is getting together upstairs.”

“Excellent. Thanks.”

I had arrived ten minutes ahead of schedule. As I approached the conference room, I overheard someone telling a story.

“You wouldn’t believe this insane woman! She completely destroyed my flight!”

I stopped walking. That voice was unmistakable. Moving closer to the partially open door, I listened as he described the very same incident from his own perspective. The coincidence was almost unbelievable.

“She seriously painted my toenails while I was sleeping!” the man complained indignantly.

A woman replied in obvious disbelief.

“You can’t be serious!”

“I wish I were joking! Some people don’t have the slightest understanding of manners!”

I pressed my lips together to stop myself from laughing. Of all possible subjects for him to criticize, he’d chosen good manners.

Another person asked a perfectly sensible question.

“Well, what happened that made her so upset with you?”

“Nothing! I didn’t do a single thing! She just couldn’t keep her nose out of my business!”

There were still five minutes until the meeting. I remained outside the room, curious to hear what else he would say.

“Frankly, I probably should’ve called the police on her,” he continued.

A woman sounded completely baffled.

“Because she painted your toenails?”

“Because she was harassing me! I was sitting there minding my own business, and suddenly she started complaining for no reason.”

“What exactly was she upset about?” another man inquired.

“Some nonsense about personal space. Absolutely absurd. Apparently, she expected everyone else to adjust themselves for her convenience.”

Naturally, he neglected to mention that he’d been resting his bare foot on my armrest.

“Then why did she decide to paint your nails?”

He made a contemptuous noise.

“Certain women simply can’t accept it when somebody tells them no.”

A few people responded with uncomfortable laughter. Someone attempted to make the conversation less awkward.

“Well, at least she chose a pretty shade,” someone remarked jokingly.

“Hilarious,” he snapped. “Do you realize how hard that polish is to get off?”

Another wave of laughter followed. I covered my mouth again. Megan’s nail-polish kit had certainly been worth the money.

“Anyway, let’s stop talking about that crazy woman,” he said. “We’ve got far more important matters to deal with.”

“Such as our new regional director?” someone suggested.

“Precisely.”

His voice suddenly became full of confidence.

“Just between us, I’m expecting my promotion to be announced before too long.”

“That’s quite a confident prediction, Bradley,” a woman commented.

“Confident? I’ve basically been managing this entire operation myself already.”

“We haven’t even met the new director.”

“That makes no difference. I know exactly how to deal with people in authority.”

I raised an eyebrow. Was that really so?

“Making a strong first impression is everything,” Bradley went on. “You enter the room, shake hands, act confident. That’s how successful people move forward.”

“What happens if the new director doesn’t particularly like you?” someone asked teasingly.

He gave a self-assured laugh.

“Come on. What’s there not to like about me?”

Several answers immediately came to mind, although I decided to save them for a few more minutes.

“I can promise you this person will be eating out of my hand by lunchtime,” he declared.

I heard footsteps approaching behind me while trying to suppress another laugh. My assistant, Sophie, appeared carrying a folder. She looked toward the conference room, then back at me.

“Are you ready?”

I adjusted my jacket and positioned the folder comfortably beneath my arm.

“Oh, I’m absolutely ready.”

Bradley had been right about one thing. First impressions really did make an enormous difference.

Sophie pushed open the conference-room door.

“Everyone, I’d like to introduce our new regional director.”

I walked into the room, and every conversation immediately stopped.

Bradley was sitting close to the head of the table, still wearing that same smug expression I’d seen aboard the airplane. The instant he recognized me, his smile vanished. He looked as though the air had been knocked out of him.

I smiled pleasantly at everyone.

“Good morning, everyone. My name is Rebecca. And unless my memory is playing tricks on me, some of us have met already.”

Bradley stared at me with his mouth open.

“You?”

I approached his chair and extended my hand.

“Wonderful to see you again, Bradley. How are those feet doing?”

Someone snorted, prompting several other people to laugh. Bradley paused awkwardly before finally accepting my handshake.

“I didn’t realize you were employed here.”

“And I had no idea you worked here either. What a small world.”

His cheeks turned red. I looked around the conference table.

“I believe Bradley was sharing a rather memorable airplane story with all of you.”

The laughter gradually died away. Bradley swallowed nervously.

“Well, I… That’s not quite…”

“Oh, don’t let me interrupt. I’d especially enjoy hearing the part where you explain why your bare foot was resting on my armrest.”

A man seated near the window dropped his pen.

“Your WHAT?” someone shouted in disbelief.

Bradley looked nervously between his coworkers.

“The whole thing was a misunderstanding!”

“Was it? Because I distinctly remember asking you several times to take your foot away.”

“Rebecca, surely this is something we could talk about in private—”

“Certainly. But considering you’ve already told everyone your side of the story, I thought it was only fair that they heard the details you left out.”

A woman seated across from us was now laughing without restraint.

“Wait a minute. You’re the lady who painted his toenails?”

“That’s me.”

“Oh my goodness!”

Bradley buried his face in his hands. I waited a moment for everyone to compose themselves before continuing.

“Bradley, I overheard everything you were saying before I entered. Including what your behavior suggests about the way you treat people you don’t consider important enough to impress.”

“That wasn’t what I meant—”

“Thankfully, we’ll have plenty of chances to become better acquainted.”

I walked to the head of the table and took my seat.

“Now, before we begin discussing possible promotions, I think we should first talk about what it really means to show other people respect.”

Bradley stared silently at his notebook, apparently unable to find a single word to say. The difference between his current behavior and his earlier boasting couldn’t have been more obvious.

When the meeting was over, he approached me, looking considerably less self-assured than before.

“I’m sorry about what happened on the plane,” he said quietly.

“I accept your apology. Whether you receive a promotion will be determined by your performance and the respect you show your coworkers. Nothing more.”

He nodded before turning to leave. As he walked away, his trouser leg moved slightly, revealing a faint pink mark close to his ankle.

“Bradley?”

He stopped.

“Yes?”

I couldn’t help giving him one last smile.

“You forgot a spot.”

He glanced down, looking horrified.

That evening, I told Megan that her Barbie nail polish had certainly left a lasting impression.

“Did he enjoy it this time?” she wanted to know.

I laughed.

“Let’s just say he’s finally figured out that he should keep his feet in his own space.”