Mr. Johnson boarded his flight to New York and headed toward the aisle seat he’d reserved. To his surprise, a blonde woman was already sitting there.
“Excuse me,” he said calmly. “That’s my seat. I booked it.”
The woman looked up and declared, “I’m blonde, I’m smart, and I’m sitting in this aisle seat until the plane lands in New York City.”
Checking her ticket, Mr. Johnson saw she was actually assigned to the middle. “I’m six-foot-five, I need this seat for legroom. You’ll be fine in the middle,” he explained. But she just repeated her phrase, unfazed. Even when the window-seat passenger agreed with him, the blonde refused to budge.
Finally, Mr. Johnson called a flight attendant. The attendant listened, leaned down, and whispered something in the blonde’s ear. Instantly, she stood up and slid into the middle seat without protest.
Later, after landing in New York, Mr. Johnson asked the attendant what she had said. Smiling, she replied, “I told her the aisle seat wasn’t going to New York City.”