My first cross-country flight was in the summer of 2002 - a friend and I left Cincinnati, had a layover in Salt Lake City, then hopped a puddle jumper to Ontario, California (destination: Palm Springs).
En route to Utah, a little Middle Eastern/Indian guy approached the front of the airplane (perhaps to use the restroom?). The beverage cart followed him up the aisle, so he was kind of stuck at the front of the plane until the cart returned. In order to let the cart past, he cut back into the area where the emergency door was...
Let me tell you, at that point, I kept picturing the bastard opening the door and/or doing some other crazy sh--. My buddy and I kept looking at each other, and I swear we were both about ready to jump over the seats to tackle him.