Part 1. My last day in Hell
“Up and at ‘em pal! Oh boy, are we glad you’re here. Big doings going on, so let’s get started. See you real soon…ha ha!”
I tease. I didn’t get a Mickey wakeup this morning. I just wrote that to see what it felt like…and you know what? It felt…nice. Like the way life is supposed to be.
But life isn’t like that anymore. It’s cold. It’s cruel. It’s this:
“Voices in my head tell me they know best
Gotta keep me on the edge
They’re pushin’, pushin’, they’re pushin’…”
Click.
Yes. Another badly recorded, garbled mess of a tween crap song to wake me up. Just a friendly reminder in your first waking moments that you’re completely in Disney’s icy cold marketing grips. The wakeup calls used to be about the parks. Now it’s about their whole empire. I’m a prisoner here. Send help.
Well, if that stupid little ditty didn’t wake me up, this certainly did:
FLUSHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
I swear the Port Orleans plumbing department must think that their guests leave colossal-sized turds (kind of like that last Indiana Jones movie), and that nothing but a violent vortex of air and water will be able to eliminate it. Sometimes I think that I will go with it…that the air current going down is so strong, it will suck me away like a broken window in a pressurized airplane. Or at the very least, pull my innards from a certain orifice so that they become outtards.
But I digress.
Listen, I know you want to hear all about my bathroom experiences, but I have my last day of Transportation class to talk about. Unfortunately, it’s only a half-day of Trucking, so I will try to squeeze out every last drop of memory I have about that day in order to preserve it as much as possible. Art Vandalay would have wanted it this way.
Jakie and I walk down to the rental car. This will be my last day driving it. Not that I’m sad, but I must admit that avoiding the whole Disney bus system can be wonderful…no lines, no loud chatter, no worries about missing it, no endless waiting for folks to embark…you know, the whole gamut. But it has to be said that it’s only wonderful as long as you know where you’re going and how to get there.
I step on the brake and turn on the wipers and Jakie laughs at me.
Why? You ask. That’s a good question. Let’s go back in time…about 4 days ago…back when Jakie and I first stepped into our hot silver rental car…
[insert harp music and clouds and the sound of a tape getting rewound]
Suitcases are safely tucked inside the car, we climb in – I, behind the wheel and Jakie, right beside me. I turn the ignition and the car starts up.
“Well Jakie, we’re finally here. I can’t wait to get to our resort so we can check in and have a delicious lunch before we hit the parks.”
“Yes, Hucifer. Surely between these detailed maps and instructions you printed and my superior navigational skills, we should tackle those things in no time.”
“And once we hit property, you can count on me to get us anywhere. With all the signs and my countless trips to Disney, surely we’ll never get lost.”
“That little gnat outside really liked me.”
“Good thing it’s still outside.”
[Laughter]
“I guess we’re ready then, Jakie. Are you ready? Here we go…”
[Step on brake, grab wiper control stick, and watch wiper blades sweep across windshield. Jakie laughs.]
“Uhh…I guess I’m used to having the gear shift on the dashboard. Ha ha. I’m sure that won’t happen again.”
[insert harp music and clouds and the sound of a tape getting fast forwarded]
“Well Jakie, I got my groceries and you got your cortisol. Let’s begin our Disney adventure!”
[Step on brake, grab wiper control stick, and watch wiper blades sweep across windshield. Jakie laughs.]
[insert harp music and clouds and the sound of a tape getting fast forwarded]
“Well, Jakie. Now that we finally got our rooms, let’s go get our park tickets!”
[Step on brake, grab wiper control stick, and watch wiper blades sweep across windshield. Jakie laughs.]
…and so on. I think you get the idea.
So, even on my last day of driving the car, I’m STILL grabbing the wipers by mistake. Call me a creature of habit, I suppose.
The first thing I noticed about the Truck class was that our once-awesome, better-than-typical continental breakfast had turned into a sham. Nothing hot was out today; just some pastries and fruit…I guess what you would consider a
true continental breakfast. But since we were fed like gods this week, I got used to it. So, like a drug pusher who first gets you hooked before taking away the goods, Art Vandalay and his minion proved that we can get addicted to free fine dining, as well, and even consider it an entitlement.
I made the same exact mistake on the last day that I made on the first: I assumed that today would be a blow-off day, especially considering it was the last day, and only a half one at that. How wrong I was. Art Vandalay goes right into lecture at the start of class. I’m all,
You’re kidding, right?
And he’s all,
Uh, no.
And then it wasn’t long before he’s talking about our last group project and the fact that we’ll – yes – be breaking up into groups for the last time and give our last presentation to the class. So more work, in other words. Dang, with all this work I did this week, I’m surprised my head didn’t explode. No one should be expected to work so much in the Kingdom of Mickey.
Our last group project is that we’re supposed to create and market the Ultimate Transportation Vehicle. Art said that the possibilities were endless, and to really stretch our imaginations with this one. He wasn’t kidding about the stretch part. Once we put our heads together, we really stretched something. Our truck was Optimus Prime: ultimate delivery vehicle by day, crime-fighting Transporter by night. It had tires that never deflate, removable sides for easier loading and unloading capabilities, short-range optic blasts, and a palm-mounted projector with deployable hydro-foils. This truck was suh-weet. I’m not really sure about its real-world potential or applicability, but may as well make this project a fun one.
I volunteered to give the presentation. I really thought that I could sell Optimus Prime to our potential investors and future voters. When it was our turn to present, I opened with, “Gentlemen, what do you look for when considering an Ultimate Transportation Vehicle? A vehicle with removable skin? Retractable arms, perhaps? One that fights crime and keeps our streets safe? Gentlemen, I bring you…” (flips butcher paper over) “Optimus Prime. Not only will OP guarantee you on-time delivery and 100% accuracy, but this truck also has long-range missiles and holographic map projections to ward off evil.”
Oh sure, some had scoffed. One of the teachers even questioned its realism. But when we pointed out that the very premise of our project was that our boundaries were limitless, he backed down. I really pushed our vehicle hard to the rest of the class. I concluded with: “And in closing sirs, ladies and gentlemen, prospective buyers…I urge you to look into your hearts and reach into your jars for that green marble. Do what’s right. Please, let’s keep Optimus Prime alive. Thank you.”
I sat down. That little speech got a few chuckles, but the real test was to see if my team would finally win something. Once all the presentations were given, we filed back into the classroom and awaited the results.
“It was close,” Art said. “In fact, it was very close. Every teams was dead even and the winning team won by only one marble.”
Which meant every other team had the same exact strategy as me.
“The winner is…”
Wait for it…wait…
“Team Red.”
WHAT??? After that brilliant, Academy Award-winning speech I just gave? Serenity now!
That’s it. I give up on this stupid class.
Which led us to the final exam. Now, it wasn’t a written, timed, stressful exam that you all know and love from high school. This was Art standing at the podium, asking us questions, and throwing ping pong balls out at the person who gave the correct answer first. The questions are flying, and those nutty students are shouting out the correct answers like they were anticipating the question, and Art is whipping those balls out at the crowd like a ball shooter. No balls, of course, were thrown at me or Jakie. Until…
“What is the name of the Sci Fi restaurant at Disney Hollywood Studios?”
Aww…Artie threw me a softball. And I swung. Hard.
“Sci Fi Dine-In Theatre!” I blurted.
“That’s right,” Art said, and tossed a ping pong ball at me.
Well, duh. What else ya got, Arthur? Ask me ANYTHING. About Disney, that is.
Nothing, apparently. That was the last question in his final exam. Hey, at least I got one right. But poor Jakie…not only was she without clue when it came to transportation, she was even more clueless when it came to Disney trivia. Poor, sweet child. Good thing she had an amazing tour guide to make up for it.
So Art asks us to count our ping pong balls. Let’s see…one, two… I have two. People were shouting, “I have 29!” “I have 32!” “I have 25!” And I’m all, I have two! Good thing I started censoring myself earlier in the week because that would have been embarrassing to say out loud. Art says that the highest number of balls got prizes. Needless to say, the
lowest number of balls did not receive a prize. Eh, I didn’t care. I just wanted to get out into that glorious sunshine and feel the warmth of Disney envelope my body. And oh yeah, that certificate would be nice…some sort of verification that I took this silly class and actually showed up for it, despite the fact that Disney World was right outside. That in itself deserves some kind of award or something.
After certificates were handed out, we were given the All Clear to vacate. Funny enough, Jakie and I stuck around. No, not for the two-and-a-half-hour truck talk…tee hee, you make me laugh, silly reader. There’s only one reason I would stay…for the free lunch.
I mean,
seriously…what other possible reason would I stay?
Here are some random pictures I took throughout the week in Hell:
Did I post this one before? I can't remember. Oh well, this place is so pretty, I have to share it with you again. This is the hallway of the convention center, on the way to the pretty bathrooms.
Ooh yeah, Art. Talk sexy to me. Delivery frequency optimization solutions do it for me every time.
That's good to know. Cuz I got a whole lotta guilt for making work send me here to "learn."
A hidden Mickey in the carpet under my feet while listening to Art drone on and on.
A hidden Mickey in the carpet on the way to the pretty bathrooms.
Coming up: Part 2. Marvin K Mooney's grand exit