The Man Behind Me Used My Airplane Seat as a S0ck Drying Rack

One sock was dangling about four inches from my face.

The other had apparently decided my hair was a drying rack.

I stared at them.

Surely not.

I turned around.

The man behind me was barefoot, wearing headphones and scrolling through his phone.

His feet were stretched beneath the seat in front of him.

My seat.

“Excuse me,” I said. “Are those your socks?”

He glanced up.