An affluent man becomes displeased with being seated next to a corpulent woman in first class and begins to voice his complaints to the flight attendant.
The instant James Courtney spotted the woman seated beside him on the flight, he knew it was going to be a rough one. She was enormous! With her seated next him, how in the world was he going to travel in comfort?
The woman took a seat, jabbing at James with her elbow as she fastened her seat belt. “Observe it!” She turned to face James as he aggressively yelled at her.
She sobbed, “Oh, I’m so sorry. Please pardon me.”
“Pardon me?” sarcastically questioned James. Or pardon the three thousand doughnuts you consumed to reach that weight?
The woman gave him a startled gasp, and James noticed that she was rather young with a weak but sweet face. He was inspired to scoff, “Lady, you need to book TWO seats when you travel!”
The woman’s eyes welled up with tears, but James was in the mood, especially after noticing how cheap and dated her clothes were and how worn out her shoes were.
“I assume your entire budget goes on nachos and hot dogs, right?” he asked. So you’re not able to afford two seats? The next time you pass the hat, I’m sure everyone on the plane will be quite giving!
The woman turned to face the window, and James saw the tears streaming down her cheeks in the reflection. He said, “Listen.” “I’m sure my friend who owns a clinic down in Mexico would give you a liposuction for a lot less money!”
By the time James felt his discomfort from being pressed up against her soft weight had subsided, the young woman’s shoulders were quivering with sobs. He thus requested a Martini when the bartender arrived with the drinks cart.
In his best James Bond voice, he said, “Shaken, not stirred,” and then, “I don’t know what Moby Dick here will drink.”
The attractive attendant gave him a snide look while pressing her lips together tightly. Next, she spoke to the woman seated beside her. “Madam, what would you like to drink?”
With a nod, the woman dabbed at her eyes. “Please, give me a diet Coke.”
James sneered. “Don’t you think a diet Coke would be a little late in the game?” Though James felt a slight glow upon realizing he’d upset both the flight attendant and the woman, they both chose to ignore him.
While the woman next to him sipped her diet Coke, he reclined and bit on an olive and sipped his Martini. With a shudder, he realized she would eventually need to use the restroom and would be squeezing by him.
Shortly after he had finished his last drink, the flight attendant arrived carrying food. She placed a lovely tray in front of him and another one in front of the passenger next him.
“Are you certain that will suffice?” The flight attendant was asked by James, “Why do you think it would take a village to feed this lady?”
Disregarding him, the flight attendant continued serving the other first-class customers. “She really was impolite, wasn’t that?” James questioned the person seated beside him, saying, “I think I’ll complain about her.”
However, the other traveler disregarded him as well, and James proceeded to enjoy the genuinely superb meal. When the flight attendant returned, he was finishing the last of his wine, and she was beaming.
“Pardon me,” she began. “The captain would love to have you come up to the cockpit. He’s a big fan.”
After being startled, James noticed that the large woman sitting next to him was being spoken to by the flight attendant. She was flushing, nodding, and smiling. This implied that James needed to stand up and give her space.
After guiding the woman off of the aircraft, James resumed his seat. He expected to be forwarding a good deal of venomous emails concerning the first class service and conditions on the company’s flights to the management.
When the captain’s voice came over the speakers, he was mentally crafting some great diatribes. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said. One of us is a celebrity! You will recognize the voice if, like me, you are an avid listener of “I Love Opera.”
When a beautiful voice began singing a few bars of a well-known aria in the cabin, the other passengers began to applaud and make joyful comments to one another. “That’s correct,” declared the captain. “We’re flying with the lovely Miss Allison Jones to perform a charity concert for world hunger.”
James winced as the entire aircraft broke into spontaneous applause. The flight attendant then approached. “Listen up, buster,” she replied in a harsh, icy tone. “I’m putting you in economy if you upset that girl again, no matter how many millions you have.”
James noticed the sparkle in the flight attendant’s eye as he opened his mouth to object. “I apologize,” he muttered.
“You don’t have to apologize to me!” said she.
After some time, Allison Jones, the large woman, reappeared, grinning and signing autographs for the other travelers. James shot to his feet to give her room to sit.
He smiled his most endearing smile and said, “Listen.” “I apologize if I offended you a little; I didn’t know who you were.”
James saw that Allison had the most stunning eyes when she turned to face him. It makes no difference who I am. Never, ever treat someone that way! Furthermore, you’re not sorry. If I wasn’t sort of famous, would you even be saying sorry? I mean, I can’t control my weight, but you can alter your mindset. Give up passing judgment on others.
James stopped talking, lowered himself back into his chair, and remained silent until their arrival in Portland.
MY FATHER LEFT ME HIS MANSION WHILE HIS NEW WIFE AND DAUGHTER GOT ONLY $10,000 EACH! I JUST FOUND HIS REASON IN HIS LAPTOP, AND IT SHOCKED ME EVEN MORE
In a shocking twist, I inherited my estranged father’s mansion and fortune, leaving his second wife and daughter with a mere fraction. But as I was starting to adjust to my new life, I discovered a secret and was faced with a choice that would test my integrity.
Hey there! Do I have a story for you! It’s about a family drama and a whole lot of money. Sounds like a soap opera, right? But this is my life, I’m Angela, a 19-year-old who thought she knew her estranged dad until recently.
Let’s rewind a bit. My dad, well, he’s a piece of work. Broke my mom’s heart by having an affair with Clara and then had my half-sister, Lily. After the divorce when I was 10, I lived with my mom and saw my dad sporadically.
To be honest, I wasn’t missing much. Growing up, my dad was more like a guest star in the sitcom of my life, popping up now and then, but never really part of the main cast.
After he left us for Clara, his affair-turned-second-wife, it felt like he didn’t just move out, he kinda checked out of my life too.
My mom, though, she’s a total rockstar. She picked up the pieces without ever dissing him in front of me, always saying he loved me in his own messed-up way.
My dad lived in this ridiculously huge mansion by the coast, made his fortune, sold his business for a million, and that house? It’s on an island, the biggest land around, sold for a fortune too. But despite his wealth, he was bitter, holding grudges like trophies.
When my dad sold his business and moved into that mansion on the island, it was like he was building his own fortress of solitude. Our already rare visits became even less frequent, turning our relationship into something you’d barely call acquaintances.
I wasn’t close to him, but I did idolize my aunt, his sister, who’s an RN. She’s basically the cool aunt everyone wishes they had. She’s this amazing nurse, always laughing and making everyone around her feel better.
Hanging out with her made me think that maybe not everything about my dad’s side of the family was a lost cause. She showed me you could be kind and successful without the drama.
She’s also the reason I decided I wanted to become a nurse. My dad seemed to respect that, always saying he was proud of me following in her footsteps.
So when he passed away, imagine my shock when I found out he left everything to me! We’re talking about an 8 million dollar legacy! I was floored! I mean, what’s a 19-year-old supposed to do with that kind of money?
The will reading was surreal. Here I was, expecting maybe a sentimental item or two, but instead, I got the keys to Hamilton Manor, his prized possession.
Meanwhile, Clara and Lily got a mere $10,000 each. It didn’t add up, especially since he seemed to dote on them.
Hearing about my dad’s death knocked the wind out of me, not gonna lie. I thought I was over it, but sitting in that lawyer’s office, listening to his will, all those old feelings of abandonment came rushing back.
And then finding out he left me everything, including the mansion, while Clara and Lily got next to nothing? Total plot twist.
So I eventually moved into the mansion, even though it felt weird. Every room was like a time capsule of my family’s past, filled with memories I wasn’t sure I was ready to face. But nothing prepared me for what I eventually found on his old laptop in the study.
After settling into the mansion, I started poking around my dad’s stuff. Not to be nosy, okay maybe a little, but more like trying to connect dots or something.
Then, in his study, which was like a shrine to his ego, I found his old, dusty laptop. Curiosity got the best of me; I powered it up, half expecting it to fall apart.
What I found blew my mind! Emails upon emails between my dad and his lawyer about this crazy plan to fake his death. Yeah, you heard that right. The man staged his own death as some twisted loyalty test for Clara and Lily.
The will? Part of the act. He was planning on coming back from the dead once he saw how they’d react to their inheritance. The mansion and all that money he left me? Just props in his twisted game.
Sitting alone in the study, surrounded by the remnants of my dad’s grand scheme, I felt like I was at the epicenter of an emotional quake. The laptop in front of me felt like Pandora’s box—its secrets out and wreaking havoc in my life.
I leaned back, trying to process the whirlwind of feelings: betrayal, confusion, a weird sense of vindication, and under it all, a deep, nagging hurt.
It’s one thing to suspect your dad prefers playing the aloof millionaire over being, you know, an actual dad. It’s another to find out he staged his own death as some bizarre loyalty test. Who does that?
The revelation forced me to question everything I thought I knew about love, loyalty, and family. Was his version of love always about tests and conditions? Had loyalty been reduced to just another game to him?
Family. That word felt so heavy now. I always envied friends who had those warm, sitcom-style families. Mine? We could probably give the most twisted soap operas a run for their money.
But sitting in that mess of revelations, I wondered if maybe, just maybe, there was a chance to redefine what family meant to me. Could I take this inheritance, this burden of wealth, and turn it into something… good?
The mansion was quiet, almost suffocatingly so, as I pondered over my next steps. The obvious choice was to confront my dad, demand answers.
But what then? Part of me wanted to just walk away, leave the drama and the money behind. Yet, another part, a part I wasn’t so keen on admitting existed, was curious. What could I do with such an inheritance? Could I make it right, somehow?
I was still trying to process all this, feeling like I’d fallen into a rabbit hole, when I heard footsteps. My heart stopped. I spun around, and there he was. My dad. Alive. In the flesh. It was like seeing a ghost, but worse, because ghosts don’t usually come with a ton of baggage.
“Angela,” he starts, and hearing him say my name after thinking he was gone was surreal, “I know this is a lot to take in. But you’ve got to understand, this was all for a reason.”
I’m just staring at him, part of me still not believing he’s actually there. “A reason?” I finally manage to say. “You put us through hell for a reason?” He nods, all serious.
“Yes. It was a test. To see who’s really loyal, who really loves me for me, not just my money. I needed to know if Clara and Lily were here for the right reasons.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “So, you leave me the mansion, the money, thinking what? That they’d show their true colors over being left breadcrumbs?”
“Exactly,” he says, as if it all makes perfect sense. “But I need you to stay quiet about this,” he adds. Then, he sweetens the deal by making me an offer: he would still leave me the mansion after his death if I kept his secret.
I remember laughing, not because anything was funny, but because it was either laugh or scream. “You want me to pretend you’re still dead? Keep acting like the grieving daughter while you play puppet master?”
He had the gall to look offended and tell me it wasn’t about playing games. That It was about knowing the truth.
“This isn’t a game, Dad. It’s our lives. And I’m not your pawn,” I told him.
That was the last straw. I couldn’t believe the lengths he’d go to manipulate us all. I told him straight up, no deal. I wanted no part in his mind games.
The mansion, the money, it meant nothing if it was all built on lies and scheming. It was clearer than ever that my real life was waiting for me, far away from my father’s manipulations.
So, I walked away. Decided then and there that I’d rather live a simple life than one filled with my dad’s drama. It was liberating, choosing honesty and integrity over wealth and deceit.
And that’s my tale. Just a girl, her manipulative dad, and a decision to choose real relationships over material wealth. What would you have done in my shoes?
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