Ch. 24: A Dream is Granted, But Satisfaction is Denied
The better part of valor is discretion.
-SHAKESPEARE,
Henry VI, Part I
So, when I last left off...
We dutifully followed CM Angelique as she and Billy walked hand-in-hand toward Liberty Square. Billy turned back to look at us from time to time, but otherwise he just chuckled and happily trotted alongside the friendly CM, pulling her by the hand. As we passed under the Columbia Harbour House overpass, the quasi-Bavarian architecture of FantasyLand gently transformed into the tidy brick formality of Colonial America. A quick turn to the right and we were soon at the ominous-looking gate that fronts the
Haunted Mansion.
The midday crowds were thickening and the sun blazed down as Angelique led us past the spooky hearse and the long, albeit covered, queue that coiled and snaked it’s way slowly around the barriers to the entrance. Instead, we entered through the exit gate, past the pet cemetery and other imposing monuments. Angelique asked us to wait for a moment while she spoke with one of the CMs working the attraction.
Upon her return, she once again took Billy by the hand and told us that as a special surprise, she was going to bring our family in through the “secret” entrance and right inside, thus bypassing the long queue. Yay! A mini-dream!
(BTW, several of you thought that Angelique looked suspiciously like a member of the Dream Team, however, she never formally introduced herself as such.)
The next time you find yourself exiting the attraction, take a look to the right. There is a nondescript door that seems to blend into the rest of the wall. I’m sure that is primarily used by the CMs, but I do recall being led into the attraction this way a few years ago when Ed and I had the opportunity to take the
Keys to the Kingdom tour. Perhaps this is why this backstage area is themed as though it were a hallway that connects the servants’ quarters with the main house. Supposedly, the tarnished bells hanging silently on the cobweb-covered wall were once used by Master Gracey to summon members of his domestic staff. (Perhaps they still are!!)
Another heavy door, and another exchange of words with the CM on duty, and Angelique bid us to have fun as the door opened and we were ushered into…..
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…the Stretching Room!
(The completely
jammed-packed Stretching Room, I might add!)
We thanked Angelique once more and one by one, we all squeezed inside and the door was shut behind us.
The Ghost Host was actually about halfway through his monologue, but we’ve experienced it many times, so we didn’t mind. But, oh! It seemed so
dark in there, especially after having just been outside in the bright sunlight! Aunt Rae grabbed onto Ed’s arm and it seemed as though she was having a very hard time seeing. (She wears transitions eyeglasses, and they take a few minutes to “transition” between environments.)
I took Billy’s hand and lectured Tricia to stay close as the doors opened and the crowd pushed forward into the bottleneck. People were craning their necks to see in the darkness and it was close, quite close. I had never been inside the Stretching Room when it had been this crowded and, frankly, it made me a bit uncomfortable.
Nevertheless, I was eagerly anticipating seeing the new renovations and additions that had been made to what is undoubtedly one of my favorite attractions in the MK. My excitement was cut short quite abruptly when I suddenly realized that Ed had “that look” on his face. Uh-oh.
You may recall that Ed has been a policeman for many years, so you might say that he has certainly had his share of dealing with unpleasantness and rudeness. He has also been party to quite a number of physical altercations while in the course of performing his duty, and has the scars to show for it. He may not be the biggest guy on the department, but he is strong, quick, and agile. He is not one to be intimidated.
So, as I said, I had glanced over in his direction and was quite dismayed to see “that look” on his face. It was a look of controlled rage that spelled T-R-O-U-B-L-E.
The recipient of the look was a young man in his late twenties with slicked-back hair, wearing a muscle t-shirt and a smirk. I leaned in to hear what was going on.
Apparently as the crowd was moving along, this lout had pushed into Aunt Rae quite forcefully, to the extent that if it were not for the fact that she had been hanging onto Ed’s arm, she would have been knocked to the ground. He had not even acknowledged the collision, and when no apology was offered, Ed (being Ed) had become angry and began glaring at him.
“What are you looking at, eh?” he sneered.
Oh no. Not only was he rude, he spoke with a French accent. (Ed has a prejudicial sore spot when it comes to French citizens who look down on Americans…something to do with the vast number of American graves at Normandy, I think.)
“I’m looking at a grown man who almost knocked over an elderly woman,” Ed replied (through gritted teeth). “You need to say, ‘excuse me’!” (Threat Level =
Orange)
The Frenchman took a step toward Ed.
(Oh, that is
so not a good idea, Frenchy.)
He stuck out his chin defiantly. “Why should I? People are bumping into
me! No one said ‘excuse me’ to
me!”
Ed was seething.
“
You almost knocked an elderly woman to the ground.
You need to say, ‘excuse me’.” I put my hand on his arm. Every muscle was tense. His body was in combat stance.
Frenchy threw down the gauntlet. “So, what are you going to do, eh? What are you going to do?” (Threat Level =
Red) The girl he was with must have noted that the line was moving along, so she elbowed him and said something indecipherable.
I whispered the shortest prayer familiar to us all, “Oh, God, please!” and I sent it up via extreme priority
express delivery. To my husband, all I said was, “Please, Ed, not in front of the children!” I was not only referring to our children, of course, but to all the dozens of kids in close proximity to where we were.
Then I stood back and held my breath.
Ed looked at me, then at the kids, and finally at Aunt Rae (who was blissfully unaware of the entire situation.) His fists were clenched and his lips were pressed into a thin, tight line of fury as the rude fellow turned and moved along toward the doombuggies with his girlfriend.
I know that it took every single ounce of self-control for him to not haul off and punch that guy right in the nose. He took a deep breath and said, “We need to stand back and get some distance between me and that guy or, I swear, I’m going to kick his [insert very
un-Disneylike word here.]
We did as he asked and when a reasonable amount of separation was achieved, we continued on. Ed and Tricia helped AR into one buggy and Billy and I took the next. I tried to enjoy the ride, but I was still a bit worried about Ed. I was fervently hoping that the confrontation he had just had would not spoil the rest of our day.
So far, we had not had such great luck with our “dreams!” If you remember, we had been offered a similar little dream at DHS when a CM wanted to give us front-of-the-line access to Tower of Terror. We had to decline because we had been running late for our ADR at 50’s PTC.
Now, here we had been given a nice treat with FOTL access to the HM, and it was practically spoilt by the rudeness of another guest.
Ah well, at least Billy had been oblivious to the incident. He sat in the buggy and sang along to
Grim, Grinning Ghosts just as happy as you please. I relaxed enough to enjoy my favorite part, the ghostly ballroom, as well as the enhancements to Madame Leota and the new additions in “the attic.” As though there wasn’t enough to look at already in this attraction! Seriously, every time I ride this, I see something new.
We dropped off our ghostly hitchhiker and we all made our way back out the way we came, through the exit. I slipped my hand into Ed’s and he wordlessly gave it a squeeze.
(You said it, Will. The better part of valor is indeed discretion.)
We all passed by the tombstones and hearse again and Billy, who like the Elephant, never forgets, began to chant, “
Hall of Presidents, please!” We started to head on over there when, surprise!! We had yet another chance encounter with a familiar face!(?)
To be continued….
Kathy
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Your sis is gunna be busy! 
Sounds like a very tense situation indeed!
, have a fantastic time!! 
I'm sorry to have left you hanging on that one!! 
