It never ceases to amaze me how self-involved people are. I am on a Virgin America flight to New York City…my real home.

A woman in leggings, cheap thigh high boots and a wide brim Forever 21 hat (I guess she is channeling Jennifer Lopez) comes barreling down the aisle and guess where she is sitting…yep, next to me! Her opening gambit is, “I paid for priority seating and there is no room already for my bag.”

I kindly point out a spot (I always employ extreme patience and good karma while on an aircraft in fear of offending any of God’s creatures) and she deems it too small. My husband gallantly emerges from his seat and rearranges the overhead baggage while she screams, “Be careful…my laptop is in the front.”

He performs a pre-boarding mitzvah and, in the midst of his good deed, she doesn’t even take a breath and points at me saying, “I am sitting next to you. Get up.”

I politely say, “Ass wipe, when my husband finishes serving you and clears the aisle,  I will rise and allow the Princess Bitch to claim her perch!”

And we are not even off the ground…happy travels.

It was a easy, breezy flight, but the raving bitch flopped around like a slimy fish on the end of a rod. She commandeered both arm rests and verbally offended the window seat passenger. I happened to notice that the aisle seat ahead of me was vacant and convinced her to vacate the premises which wasn’t a great idea since she rocked my TV screen for the duration of the flight.

When the plane landed, as I had moments before predicted, she asked David for his assistance in claiming her overhead luggage. Of course, I stepped in, deflecting the question. I told her if she didn’t yell, used her inside voice and apologized for her bad behavior we would be happy to help. And, my job is done.

By the way, the inappropriate act of Entitlement, unlike calories, does count against you 35,000 feet in the air.