The interesting thing about Disney World is how you can be gone for a year, or in our case two, come back and feel like you never left. Things change, you get older, construction walls go up, you get new running shoes, a ride gets a new old name, your kids get older and still, it’s all so very familiar.
Right down to the idiots who are standing in line behind you.
I’m looking right at you, Sandy Solo-toes.
I’ve got nothing against people who choose to vacation in Disney World by themselves. To each her own, right? It’s not illegal or immoral or even un-Biblical, so I say, “have a time.”
Just don’t try to cut in front of me.
It occurs to me that Dumbo is the scene of a LOT of this kind of nincompoopery. I don’t know why. This wasn’t the first time we encountered the demonstrably idiotic. NOWisconsinpublicemployees. Sadly, I don’t reckon it’ll be the last either.
I moved our stroller over to the Dumbo area while Mrs. Z and ZZUBY got in line. Lil Z and I walked up to join them. I spotted her as we walked up. Sandy Solo-toes. You couldn’t miss her. The wide-bodied pasty white legs. The tucked in white t-shirt. The pin lanyard. The superfluous cuffs in her denim shorts. The cocky way she had her foot turned sideways like she was 13. When it was clear to everyone that she was decades away from 13. The sour puss which screamed out, “I’m alone and I’m mad about it!”
Seriously, you could hear her face.
She was, after all, a woman alone. In line. For Dumbo.
I swear I’ve written this all before. Can someone be so kind to read back through the previous Battles for my Wallet and tell me how many times we’ve had this happen?
Sandy Solo-toes saw me coming with Lil Z to join the other Zs and I swear she moved her corpulent back side to block us. And then looked away as if she was suddenly so interested in what? The bird poop on the ground. I suppose that would pass for interesting if I was the kind of person who stood in line. Alone. For Dumbo.
No matter. It was early in the day and early in our trip and ZZUB was still filled with mirth and good cheer. I offered her a cherry Pop Tart to move her Ruebenesque body aside so we could join the rest of our family.
I’m just kidding of course.
I’d never give up a cherry Pop Tart.
Not even if Rush Limbaugh was standing in line in front of me.
Speaking of porcine. That brother could use a week or three eating only celery, couldn't he?
I said, “excuse me,” to Sandy Solo-toes as we squeezed past her to join Mrs. Z. I don’t recall whether she responded. She acquiesced. Kind of. But she hovered on us like Jessie Jackson on a TV camera. Lil Z and I were now standing in front of Mrs. Z, so Sandy Solo-toes was right behind Mrs. Z. And by right behind, I mean clinging to her like a dryer sheet.
If Mrs. Z was the kind of person who stored up gas in the chamber and if Mrs. Z was the kind of person who unleashed the power, she could have knocked Sandy back with one good hot dog fart.
As we moved along, there’s a bit of a turn in the queue and as we got to it, Sandy Solo-toes tried to squeeze past us!
What on earth?!!
Although it was early in the day and early in our trip and even though I was still filled with mirth, I said in a big voice to Mrs. Z, “HONEY, STAY CLOSE TO US. THAT WOMAN IS TRYING TO SHARK YOU.”
Oh yes I did. Mrs. Z is southern so she’s more polite. She said, “ZZUB! She could hear you.” To which I said, “I said that so she could hear me.”
Sandy Solo-toes stayed back after that.
Which was the smartest thing she'd done since she poured herself into those sassy denim shorts. With the cuffs.
After Dumbo, Lil Z asked if we could ride the carousel. I have no beef with the carousel per se, only that during a morning EMH, it seems foolish to waste time on it. And in trying to keep moving, I committed a MAJOR gaffe. What is now known as the Carousel Mistake. I told her, “we’ll ride it later.” As we soon discovered, was that she and I had different understandings of the word, "later." I meant LATER, like that day, or even that week. She thought later meant, "right now?"
First she started to cry.
But we headed to Pooh. The ride, not the bathroom experience. That’ll come later. I assure you.
They were doing some work on the Pooh queue but the ride was the same. I don’t hate Pooh. It’s actually grown on me. I used to hate it. But now I find it strangely endearing. I think it’s the scene with the cake.
From Pooh, we headed over to Tomorrowland and Buzz Lightyear. Since the year it opened, Buzz Lightyear’s Space Ranger Spin has been one of my favorite rides. However, it’s one of the few rides duplicated in Disneyland where I think they got the better version. When we were in DL last summer, we rode Buzz Lightyear’s Astroblasters almost as many times as Small World. But no matter, I still love me some Buzz Lightyear SRS. But as it turns out, I was off my game this first go round. I ended up just a cadetsomethingornuther.
After BL, we grabbed some water from the Launching Pad where absolutely nothing funny happened. Actually, while Mrs. Z was grabbing water, I walked over to Space Mt to grab some fastpasses for later usage. And then we rode the PeopleMover. I’m glad they finally changed the name, but honestly, they have sucked almost all of the funny out of this ride. I know it’s never been about the narration. But the narration used to be funny. Now it’s stupid. Not killing 130 year old oak trees stupid. Or holding a rally because 130 year old oak trees are dying stupid. And not even throwing toilet paper in 130 year old oak trees stupid.
It was more like accusing the press secretary of being out of the loop because she was undergoing another one of her wardrobe changes stupid.
As is usually the case, the ZZUBs made their own fun. When the PM gets to Space Mt. It’s dark. Insanely dark. So dark you can’t see no nothing dark. So of course we were screaming.
“Mommy, are you still there? I can’t see you!!!”
“Am I still here? I can’t see myself!!!!”
After Peeps, we went to ride Pups. As in the Puppies of Progress. And once again, we’ve convinced one of our children that the dog is looking at her. That joke will never get old.
Neither will Barack Obama's capacity to distort the truth. Apparently.
So after the Pups, we strollered up and headed towards the front of the park. We had a date with some Tonga Toast. We were headed from Tomorrowland towards the hub.
Where you can clearly see a woman picking her nose.
I love me some Disney World.
We made it to the carousel and Lil Z got her ride on.
And then we strollered back up for the Disney pace to the Monorail station. We made it to Kona about 5 minutes after our reservation and no one seemed to mind.
But now I was full on hungry. Like Sarah Palin for attention.
I opened the menu and scanned the breakfast offerings. But I didn’t see what I was looking for. NOU2.
I looked again. And again. I could feel anger rising up inside me. “Danged Disney! Danged food police!!! Now they’ve taken Tonga Toast away, too?!” I closed my menu and wondered why we were even there. The waitress came to get our drink order and with full dejection I asked, “what happened to the Tonga Toast?”
“Nothing,” she said, looking at me as if I was dumb enough to pay rack rate.
“I can’t find it on the menu anywhere,” I replied.
She opened my menu and pointed at the top. Where if it was any more obvious it would be Michelle Obama’s butt.
I quite literally heaved a sigh of relief.
The Tonga Toast was every bit as fantastic as it always is. And for the most part breakfast was enjoyable.
But there was a dark cloud looming over the ZZUB’s otherwise cheery breakfast. Something wicked was headed our way. Something which would alter our plans for the rest of the day.