Next stop: 52nd Street. No, Im not walking to New York City. That would be a long walk. It would also suck up all my solo time in Disney World. After all, this trip report isnt called
How I Walked Off 30 Pounds In Three Days, or
Hitching, Hooking, and Hucifer: Destination Big Apple. No, 52nd Street is the Billy Joel knockoff band. Or tribute band, whatever you would like to call it. And since I looooooove Billy Joels music, I thought I would drop by at the next set and enjoy.
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The last set is just ending, so I walk up into seats and plop down on the bench. Just then they announce to please clear the seats so they can clean up for the next show. Thinking that it would be okay if just little ol me sits there since my area is rather clean (in other words: this announcement does not apply to me), I pull out my trusty notepad and start writing. Then the bouncers posing as cast members come around and pull people like me out of their seats. Nicely, of course. They bounce with a smile here. They come up to me, apologize, and ask if I would please get up and stand in line for the next show. This is Disney World, after all. Had it been a large venue in a big city, I would have been roughed up a bit for not following the rules.
As I walk up the row to the exit, a Moroccan cast member smiles at me. He sees my notebook and asks to see it. Then he asks for my name. I give him the pen and pad and he scribbles something down on a blank page. When he hands it back, all I see is some Arabic writing. He smiles again and said, It says, Hucifer, welcome to Walt Disney World, Mohammed.
I have no idea if "Hucifer" is misspelled.
This guy is so sweet, I just want to hug him. And then I want to ask him how he knew how to spell Hucifer. Only Disney World employees will try to make you feel better when gently ejecting you from your seat.
So I scuttle around to the other side of the theatre and park myself in line like a good little obedient guest, notebook and pen in hand. Thats when I notice the sleeping woman.
So, what image pops into your head when I say that a woman is crashed out in Epcot? Is she sleeping on a park bench? In a café chair? In her daughters double stroller, perhaps?
Nope.
And you want to be my latex salesman.
Nothing like making World Showcase feel like Bum Alley, lady. Next youll be begging us for spare change so you can buy booze in Germany.
Soon enough the cast members have cleared out the thousand pounds of filth and trash that the last concert attendees had left behind, and they let us have a seat. I park myself right up front. I didnt ask where to sit, I didnt negotiate with anyone else and compromise on a spot. I just sat. Exactly where I wanted. Like any solo gal would do. Soon enough, the seats behind me started filling up. Two mid-60s couples sit behind me that, based on their conversation, appear to have been friends for many years. One of the gentlemen brings up Michael Jackson. The other one chorted, Michael Jackson is a black entertainer for white people, and a white entertainer for black people.
Shush! his wife says quickly as the other gentleman laughs. The funny part about that is not what he says, but his wifes reaction. She knows I can hear their conversation and she is trying very hard to keep her man quiet. She is rather embarrassed, but the husband doesnt care at all, which only made it that much funnier.
Finally the concert starts. The first thing I notice is that the lead singer (aka, Billy Joel) doesnt look a thing like Billy. Yeah, you can put dark sunglasses and a sports coat on, but that still isnt working. No matter how much I squint my eyes or tilt my head or darken the room, Im not getting you two confused.
*squints and tilts head* Nope, you still don't look like Billy.
Blow, Billy. Blow!
The next thing I noticed is that the bass guitar dude had man breasts, or moobs if you will. He needed a bro. Or a manzier. Whichever you prefer.
Sorry, no Moob-guy pictures today.
Also, while playing, the drummer periodically tosses his stick in the air and catches it just before slamming it into his drum. Like hair bands used to do in 80s music videos. Yep, it was that cheesy. But the best part was when he doesnt quite catch the stick as it came down, it bounces off the floor and skittered behind him, and hes jumping off of his chair to get it. Priceless.
I tried to get a throwing stick pic, but they didn't turn out. So you get a spinny stick pic.
And during the songs when Billy played the piano, smoke would come billowing out of his piano. Nope, nothing cheesy about this either.
Excuse me, Billy. But your piano is on fire.
Uh...Billy? You want me to call a cast member or something?
Oh no...we're too late.
But where they lack in appearances and cheese factor, they more than make up for in sound. I love the show. And while Billy doesnt
quite sound like Billy, the music is great and the band is pretty lively. I would actually love to listen to them again. Billy says that they play different songs for every set, I am pretty bummed out that I missed the previous show for O Canada! And unfortunately, Ill be missing the next one too.
At the end of the set, Billy says that theyve been coming to Disney World for several years now, but this is the last day that they would play here. In fact, the next show would be their final. When the show ends, we get up and start filing out. The wife of the boisterous husband apologizes to me with her eyes before turning around and walking up the aisle.
I continue my trek along World Showcase. Its pretty busy here, but somehow a duck found its way into the middle of the pathway without getting trampled on. A man and a boy are walking in front of me and they are both wearing Viking helmets. (The Viking helmets are somewhat important to this little story, so bear with me for a moment.) They notice the duck at the same time as me. The man says, Catch it! Catch it! The boy lunges for the duck, but it waddles away and heads toward the lagoon. The boy, whose Viking hat is slipping off his head during the chase, uses one hand to steady it. But the man insists that he focus on the task at hand. Use both hands! A duck is way better than a Viking hat! Fortunately for the duck, the boy isnt quick enough to catch it. The boy turns around toward the man and grins up at him. Aw, that was a good try, the man said to him. He tousles the boys hair, puts his Viking hat back on him, and puts his arm around his shoulders. It is as if the man was congratulating his son for almost catching the 20-pound salmon that managed to get away.
Just another amusing snippet of conversation you hear when youre solo. I notice that I definitely pick up a lot more of whats going on around me when Im not wiping snot off of a toddlers face or whining about my husbands fiftieth cigarette break of the day.
Speaking of noticing things
you have to know that the pathway is thick with people. I mean, this is July and all. Now I know attendance is down this summer, but its still crazy-busy as far as Im concerned. So its no surprise that my Wales friend didnt see me walk by him. And Im quite surprised that I saw him. Thats right, people. He aint dead. Hes not lost. He isnt crying. He hasnt been beaten and mugged. He is being pushed in a wheelchair by someone who I assume is his wife. By the time it registers who I just saw, they are several feet behind me, walking in the opposite direction. I slow down but keep walking as I debate with myself like I did back at Test Track. Do I keep going? Turn around and chase them down?
I eventually realize that this was a great opportunity to wish him well. Besides, it doesnt make a great trip report story if I just kept walking. So I stop in my tracks, apologize to the person behind me for stopping before briefly explaining that I had a killer trip report to write back home and that I have good reason for the unforeseen one-eighty, and run back to catch up with my long lost friend.
You found your family, I see, I say to David when I finally reach him. He looks up at me. At first it takes a moment to register who I am, but once recognition sets in, he seems genuinely pleased to see me.
Hello, Hucifer, David says warmly. He turns to the woman pushing the wheelchair. This is the woman I told you about. Hucifer, this is my wife Judy.
You never know how wives will react to a situation like this, so I am a little cautious. But Judy gives me a warm smile.
David told me about you, she says in that same wonderful Welsh accent. Said that you were very kind to him. And then, Hucifer is a most unusual name. Is it German? Then David introduces me to their daughter, who looks about sixteen years old. She appears to be angry at the world. Instead of smiling at me, she glares. I almost remind her about the no-crying and no-glaring rule in Disney World, but she doesnt look like she is in any kind of mood for joking, or actually communication in any form. If she has an accent too, I would never know. She never speaks a word the entire time.
Decided to go with the wheelchair? I ask David.
Yeah. I was having a hard time walking after Test Track.
Well, you picked the park with the largest pedestrian acreage, I say, a little bit of the Disney tour guide in me coming out. Im telling you, theres a whole lot of useless Disney trivia taking up valuable brain cells up there.
The three of us chat for a few moments while Daughter stares on. David and Judy are absolutely wonderful people to talk to. After a few minutes of clogging up the middle of the World Showcase walkway, I wish them well, making sure to remind them not to miss Illuminations. Soon we went back on our separate ways, never to see one another again. Tear.
Coming up: Part 6. Offending the dinner host, part III. Or: Attack of the Mexican bugs
when I go off with the Disney trivia..... I'll have to listen out for the crickets chirping next time!
What kind of solo trip WAS this?
Nerd-o-rama.
Sorta like women bemoaning the loss of a favorite lip gloss at Target? or a steal she found at a garage sale. 
It's going to be one of those stories that will get passed on for generations.
So you're the one that strangers talk about?
Wasn't trying to infer the TR itself was too long. I actually prefer the long ones. I was just cracking up that fate brought an UBER cheesy 80's flashback tune into my pandora playlist at the exact same time I was reading your description of the Billy Joel band. Especially with the smokey piano. (Falcor came to mind.) Wouldn't dream of chastising anyone for a long TR. 
I'm loving it! Really sorry if I hurt your feelings. That was NOT my intent at all. Seriously wasn't thinking about it coming across as a rag on the TR at ALL. Got that everybody? I LOVE HUCIFER's TR! 
If I had a stack of ping pong balls I'd lob you a whole slew of them for a job well done. 
Though if we included Dave, it would be 2/3.
Have a great week! Try not to pick on me too much while I'm gone.
