08/01/2025
She let her dog p**p on the floor, blasted music, and yelled at staff like the airport was her kingdom. By the time we reached the gate, everyone was exhausted, so I sat next to her with a smile and gave her a reason to finally walk away.
JFK was packed. Delays, long lines, cranky travelers. The usual. Then came the voice. Loud, sharp, and impossible to ignore.
"Yeah, yeah, I told her I wasn't gonna do that. It's not my job. I don't care if she cries."
Everyone turned. A woman in a red coat stood near the Hudson News store, holding her phone straight out in front of her, FaceTiming without headphones. Her voice cut through the noise like a car alarm.
Behind her, a small white puffball of a dog was squatting — right in the middle of the terminal. Its rhinestone collar sparkled under the harsh airport lights.
An older man in a tan cap stepped forward and said gently, "Excuse me, miss? Your dog…" He pointed at the mess forming on the tile.
"Some people are so damn rude," she snapped, then turned back to her phone call. "Ugh, this guy's staring at me like I just murdered someone. Mind your business, Grandpa."
Gasps spread through the crowd. One mom near me said, "Oh my God," and covered her little kid's eyes like it was a crime scene.
Another traveler raised her voice. "Ma'am! You're not going to clean that up?"
The woman didn't stop walking. She tossed a hand in the air and said, "They have people for that."
People stood still in disbelief, like they were trying to process what just happened.
Later, I saw her again at TSA. She shoved past people in line and dropped her tote bag at the front like she owned the place.
"Ma'am, you need to wait your turn," the agent said.
"I have PreCheck," she snapped. "And my dog gets anxious."
"That's not the PreCheck line," the agent said, pointing across the room.
"Well, I'm going through anyway."
Someone behind her muttered, "Unreal."
Then came the shoe argument.
"I'm not taking them off," she said.
"You have to," the TSA worker repl