Who controls the window?

A few weeks ago, I boarded my flight back to the States after my trip to Spain. I'd ended up with a window seat and was looking forward to getting some great shots from the air since it was a daytime flight. After I settled in, a man sat beside me in the middle but he seemed rather uncomfortable. Fidgeting, he futzed with his phone, adjusting his earbuds, bumping me several times. Ignoring him, I figured he'd calm down in a minute since we were about to depart. However, he spread out his legs, ending up with his right foot in between my feet. I glared at him, and when he didn't notice this in the least, I gave his foot a hard tap with mine. And he didn't budge. Giving up, I removed my shoes and tucked my feet up onto my carry-on under the seat in front of me. The plane began to move, he continued to send texts to whomever. He shifted a bit more, his shoulder now firmly resting on mine. Debating about saying something, I pushed him hard with my shoulder instead. With no luck. It was about then I realized he'd never put on his seatbelt and we were seconds away from takeoff. 

As the plane began its slow climb into the sky, he continued to play with his phone. Apparently, all of those rules for flying didn't apply to him. Then, the worst thing happened. His hand did a slow crawl across my chest, hitting both areas no woman wants a strange man to touch. Ever. His fingers hit the bottom of the window near where the button is to adjust the amount of light coming in. Without thinking much about it, I slapped his hand, hard. Most likely I should've hit him somewhere else. He'd crossed a major line and it was beyond time to alert a flight attendant to the man's behavior.

He yanked his hand back, snatching out an earbud as he did. Staring at me, he barked, "Do you speak English?" Okay, not the oddest thing to say, a lot of people on flights from Spain only speak Spanish. When I nodded yes, he went on a rant about how rude I had been. What? Me rude? Yup, I'd stepped on his toes - I guess he felt the whole floor belonged to him. I'd bumped into him - I guess both seats were his. I'd slapped him - I guess I deserved to be groped. I'd left the window bright - I guess it made it hard for him to see all those texts on his phone. I didn't respond.

He lept up and climbed over the poor man in the aisle seat by putting his hand squarely in the poor man's lap in a place no man wants another man to put his hand. He marched up the aisle despite the fasten seatbelt sign still being on. Leaving the other man groaning and me gaping at the audacity of this passenger. After the plane had leveled off, a flight attendant stopped by asking for the guy's backpack. Soon after that another passenger took his place. Who knows what happened to the first guy, I never asked.

But it made me wonder, how much is too much? When is it time to say 'no more'? I've talked to a lot of people over the years who've stayed in bad situations for whatever reason when they should've run. But I've talked to others who've stayed and it worked out in the end. There are no easy answers in life. Still, sometimes we must stand up for ourselves and do what we feel is right. In my case, I should've hit the call button before we even took off that day...