Chapter Fourteen: A Sock, A Hair and a Lady with My Camera
We got back to the Lodge and I prepared to pick up our rental car. When I travel for my job I normally use National. And in years past, when we’ve gone to Disney World, if I’ve needed a rental car, I’ve used National again. But recently, with the Enterprise merger, National has consistently been more expensive than its competitors. Even with the discount code stacking. Since we were picking up our car in the middle of our stay at Disney World, and thus limited to what was available on property, I pretty well resigned myself to National/Alamo. But then I discovered a few other rental car options at the Downtown Disney hotels.
But remember this: you get what you pay for.
I got a pretty good deal lined up with Budget. And before we left for Disney, I confirmed that they had a shuttle that would come pick me up at the Wilderness Lodge and haul me out to the Doubletree in DTD to pick up my car.
So I was a little surprised when I called Budget to have them come pick me up and the guy told me it was too late. I confirmed that they were open for another hour and I had a reservation to pick up within the next hour.
“Yeah, but you’re at the Wilderness Lodge and for us to come pick you up and get back here is about an hour. So . . .” he also let that linger in the air. What is it with people and the dangling so’s?
“Well look, Jack,” I started. I call everyone “Jack” when they hack me off. “I’ve got to pick up my car and you advertise a shuttle. I’m sorry if it’s going to force you to work right up until the time you clock out, but I assume you're being paid until the end of your shift.”
“We can’t get you and get back in time. No way. You can pick your car up in the morning, if you’d like. I can have a driver pick you up anytime after 8:00.”
I briefly considered this option but we were low on some supplies and headed to EPCOT the next day. I wasn’t about to futz with picking up a car in the morning.
I explained that option wouldn’t work and we needed the car that night. And if they’re going to stop running their shuttle an hour before closing, they might want to make that information obvious someplace.
We did another round of how long it takes to get to and from the Wilderness Lodge and closing time and holiday weekend and something about steaks on the grill that I wasn’t much interested in. Once he realized that I wasn’t going to move off my position, he suggested I take a cab out there and they’d pay the cab fare. I told him I was on my way.
There’s always a bunch of cabs in front of the Disney hotels.
Except in this one moment when I actually needed one.
I asked the bell person to get one out there ASAP. After a couple of minutes, without even a hint of a cab in sight, I turned to a valet and asked him if they had a courtesy car he could drive me to the Doubletree in. There was no courtesy car, but he asked his manager if he could drive me himself. Manager said sure and valet dude ran off to get his car. A few minutes later he pulled up and I hopped in and away we went.
On the way to the Doubletree, I got the valet’s life story. I have a face. People tell me things. He was a good guy helping me out. So his stories will die with me.
Also, I don’t remember much about them.
He got me to the Doubletree in pretty good time and I handed him a $20 for his time.
I walked inside and found the Budget desk and as I did, I thanked God 800 times that we don’t
have to stay at the Doubletree.
I'm sure it's plenty nice if you
choose to stay there.
The Budget guy was really nice after all the crap on the phone. Even though I already had a discounted rate, he gave me another discount. And reimbursed me the 20 ducks I gave the valet. He gave me the keys to our car and told me where I could find it. He shut down the desk and walked out behind me and then walked the opposite direction. I found the car, put in the car seats and noticed that the thing was filthy.
Disgusting filthy. There was not just a fine layer of dust but what appeared to be a Haunted Mansion layer of dust on the dashboard.
Dust I could deal with.
The pubic hair skeeved me out.
And the sock in the backseat.
I hate socks. Can’t stand to look at them or touch them. I put them on every day and they don’t upset me to have to wear them although I loved the 80s when we didn’t wear them. But I can’t stand to look at anyone else’s socks. Especially in a half ball. Seriously, just writing about it is making me nauseous.
And we've had MORE THAN enough of THAT this week.
Using the long keys for the rental car as make shift chopsticks, I picked up the skanky sock ball and flung it as far as possible away from me.
I fully understand that by doing so I added another tear stain to the cheek of the proud Indian chief. And I’m not one to litter. But I couldn’t drive in a car with a skanky sock ball.
The keys were also good for removing the errant pubic hair.
Also, despite the fact the paper I was handed said there was a full tank, there was only three quarters of a tank. Having watched the dude leave behind me, I figured I’d just deal with that issue when I returned the car.
I headed out to find a grocery store to pick up some stuff we needed. I parked the crappy rental and started to walk into the store. There was a lady parking her car at roughly the same time.
“That is the crappiest rental car I’ve ever had,” I said to her.
“You aint on Disney property anymore, Jack. I don’t wanna hear your life story.” She said to me with her eyes. It was the wry expression of a local whose been talked to more than once by a Disney Dad who’s walking with dispatch away from his maroon midsize.
She didn’t actually say anything back to me. Just smiled. Which amused me. And then I was amused that I initiated a conversation. I all but said, “I drive a much nicer car in the real world.” But I didn’t.
I think I was in the Winn Dixie, but now seven months later, I won’t swear to it. I just remember that I quickly found what we needed and after I paid, I had a devil of a time bagging my stuff in those plastic bags. It was pathetic. I could not open the tops of the bags to get my stuff in. It became comic. Like I was on a hidden camera show and they glued the bags shut. I started to get embarrassed until I realized I was at that moment wearing a Mickey Mouse shirt and my big boy shorts; I reeked of sweat and sunscreen. I was on vacation and would never see those people again. None of them will ever see me in a suit and tie and think, “this idiot is my attorney?! He can’t even figure out how to bag his crap at the Winn Dixie!” Or wherever it was that I was standing.
My clients frequently wonder, “this idiot is my attorney?!” but for entirely different reasons. Like they’ve heard me talk about my freakish aversion to socks. Or they’ve been fool enough to dangle a “so . . .” in my hearing.
Eventually, I managed to open the tops of the plastic bags, get my stuff in and I was headed back to the Lodge. But before we get to dinner, allow me to close the loop on the rental car story.
Cause it aint over with the pubic hair and skanky sock ball.
We returned the car the following week at a different location in South Florida. Because the car only had three quarters of a tank when I picked it up, I only put three quarters back in to return it. I drove up to the store front rental office and went inside. The lady at the counter was on the phone with a customer whose personal information she wasn’t too interested in protecting. Evidently, said customer had the car well past the return date and was now being charged some obscene amount of money per day for the car. And the credit card he had given them was maxed. So he had to bring the car in. And other threats that I found annoying to listen to.
Ms. OneCigaretteTooMany then turned her poorly made up attention my direction. I gave her the keys, the mileage and the info on the gas situation. She walked out to verify the mileage and make sure I hadn’t left a sock ball any place in the car. All the while, she’s telling me that either I fill up the tank or they will do it and charge me something in the neighborhood of $8 a gallon. I again explained that it wasn’t full when I took it out.
“Well you should have told them at that office before you drove away.”
“Ma’am, as I explained already, the guy left right behind me. There was no one there to tell.”
“Well, then you should have called him first thing the next day.”
”Perhaps, I should have, except I was on vacation in Disney World and gas in my rental car was not high on the list of things I was worried about.”
“Well the paper says it was full.”
“Yes, Ma’am. I know what the paper says. And I’m telling you the paper is wrong. And I’m not going to buy extra gas for Budget Rental Car. I’m not eating that for you.”
”Well if you don’t put the gas in than we have to eat it.”
“Except you’re not eating anything. You’re getting the car in the same condition I took it out in.” Sans the sock and hair, of course.
“Well, I have to have it full. So. . .”
Why not just pee on me at that point?!
“I’m not putting more gas in and I’m not paying for you to do it. So why don’t you get on the phone and call Orlando and confirm what I’m telling you.”
We then did 5 minutes of why she couldn’t do that which ended with her suggesting I call their corporate customer care line.
I whipped out my cell phone and asked her for the number. She gave it to me and about 3 minutes later, I was handing the phone to her so she could hear the corporate care line person tell her not to charge me for the difference in the gas.
Satisfaction shouldn’t feel so good.
Then Ms. OneCigaretteTooMany totaled my rental and over charged me. We went round and around about what I was supposed to be charged. She insisted she had to charge me this amount.
“Ma’am, you’ve tried this once and got faced by your own corporate care line. Do you really want me to do it again?”
Evidently she did.
So back to my cell phone I went. And fortuitously, I got the same person I had before who, if was possible. was even more annoyed by this bitter pill than I was. I handed the phone back to Ms. OneCigaretteTooMany and she adjusted the price as she was told.
And then I was gone. But not before I wrote down her name. In a rather obvious gesture. I think I mouthed the spelling as I wrote it. Once in my sister’s Suburban driving back to her house, I called the customer care line for the last time. They got a full ear full of my displeasure with the entire Budget rental experience; from the lack of a shuttle, to the filthy car, to the gas tank and so on.
They agreed to refund a substantial portion of what I paid on the twice discounted rental. It didn't quite make up for all the crap I had to go through, but it came close.
Except for the sock ball. I still have night terrors.
We had dinner that night at Whispering Canyon Cafe. We’re not huge fans of WCC anymore. The food is ok and the atmosphere is fun. But we wouldn’t travel there for dinner. It’s just that, when you’re staying at the Lodge, you HAVE to eat there. To not eat there would be like going to Orlando and NOT going to Disney World.
Who does that?!
So we had to eat WCC. But it wasn't a meal we were looking forward to. We arrived a few minutes before our ADR time and after a few minutes, we were seated next to a very nice family with two girls a little older than ZZUBY. They were leaving the next day. I know because they, like us, start up conversations with total strangers at Disney World. And apparently in the parking lot of the Winn Dixie. Or wherever it was that I was.
The Mom asked if we saw the thing on the TV about the bounce back special. I said I had noticed it but figured it was more Disney clap trap about the dining plan and not any actual savings. I was wrong. And this very helpful mom was the one who told us that they were offering a Free Dining bounce back special but you had to book before you checked out. I thanked her for the heads up.
Let this be a lesson to you. Two lessons really:
1. Not all the info on Resort TV is mere Disney noise. Some of it is actually useful.
2. Never assume the people around you know as much as you do. Don’t be afraid to tell them something you think they should know.
We chose not to do the skillet this year and as it was nothing on the menu was quite the way we wanted it. Our waitress was awesome. She pretty much had the kitchen make us whatever we wanted. I got some peel n-eat shrimp as an appetizer. I can’t remember what either of us had for our main courses, but I know the kitchen altered the menu for us. The shrimp were really good and there was a mess of ‘em. ZZUBY got a bubble gum shake and some food. We all got our desserts to go because we were so full.
During dinner, the family next to us wanted to have some fun with the wait staff. But the Dad noticed Baby ZZUB was asleep in her stroller. So he called over their waiter and said, “my girls would like some ketchup, but we don’t want to wake up their baby.” The waiter looked at Baby Z asleep, looked at the Dad’s kids and then looked around.
Pointing at the Dad’s girls he said, “you guys come with me.” They got up and followed him. He walked over to another table and said, “you guys have two new daughters.” He pulled up some chairs for the girls and sat them down. And then he had everyone bring ketchup to the table for them.
That’s good Disney right there.
Sometime while we were sitting there, we saw our waitress from last year. We had eaten at WCC on our last night at the Lodge and our waitress (whose name escapes me) was really wonderful. She knew Mrs. Z was pregnant and got the briefest version of the scary night in the ER we had before we got there. She shared some of her own story with us. We remembered she was really sweet to ZZUBY, too. So after Baby ZZUB woke up, we walked her over to the waitress and introduced ourselves to her and showed her the baby. Whether she actually remembered us only she knows, but she sure did a good job of making us think she knew who we were.
And that was good Disney was well.
After dinner, we picked up our bag of desserts and headed out towards the pool to take some pictures. I got some great shots of Mrs. Z and the girls in front of the waterfall. It was a nice night. Not too hot, maybe even a little cool. We decided we wanted some shots of all of us, but I couldn’t find anything to put the camera on to use the self-timer. So I went off in search of someone to take our pictures. It was about 9:00 at night so it took me a few minutes. But I walked over by the poolside and there I saw some people. I asked no one in particular if they’d come take our pictures for us.
“Sure'a. I’ll do it,” said this buxom lady as she got up from a pool chair.
She followed me back to in front of the water fall and said, “oh! What a goy-geous family you have!” I gave her the camera and showed her how to use it. She snapped off a few shots, one of which we used for our Christmas card. After we were done, we thanked her and she asked where we were from.
We told her and she told us she was from Long Island.
”Really?” I said with mock surprise. “I would have guessed Mississippi.”
“Oh! Your’a kidda like my husband,” she said, slapping my arm. “He’s up in the room with our little one. Gawd forbid a million times she should be out in this night a’r. She’s so sick. Poor thing. Got really sick before we left. And I didn’t know what to do. I cawled the doctor and he gave me some antibiotics for her. Gawd forbid a million times we should cancel the trip. But I would. I’d have cancelled it in a minute if he told me to. But he said we could go, just to give her the pills and keep a watch on her.”
Mrs. ZZUB asked, “I hope she’s doing ok. Is she running a fever or anything?”
“No. No fever, thank Gawd. But she’s still got a cawph that sounds pretty nasty.”
“Well, hopefully she’ll feel better soon.”
“Oh, I know it," she said shaking her head and clasping her hands in prayerful gesture. "Gawd forbid a million times she can’t enjoy this trip. I would doy.” Then she turned her attention to Baby Z in my wife’s arms. “She’s beyootiful. How old is she?”
“Six months.”
“You breastfeed?”
My wife’s blush, even in the darkness, was obvious. “Yes.”
“Good fah yoo! I couldn’t do it. Look at these things,” she said, gesturing towards herself. “I tried, but it was too hawd. Gawd forbid a million times I should be able to breast feed. But I give yoo a lot of credit. It’s so hard.”
She turned to me, “I give your wife a lot of credit.”
“She’s a champ, alright,” I replied.
“Listen to me going awn and awn. Yoor probably thinking who’s this crazy lady standing out here in her bathing suit this time of night.”
“Not at all,” we both said. “I appreciate you taking the pictures for us.”
“Well, yoo guys have a nice time and enjoy those booytiful girls. They grow up so fast. Uggh. So fast,” she said shaking her head, knowingly. “Gawd forbid a million times yoo shouldn’t enjoy them when they’re young.”
“Will do,” I said as we thanked her again and said good night. We turned and started to head back to our room.
“You’ve got to put that in your Trip Report,” said my wife.
“Gawd forbid a million times, I shouldn’t.”
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Click Here For Chapter Fifteen
Although I always preferred a late breakfast at Tusker House to lunch at Flame Tree. Now that TH is lost forever 
, we may have to check out Y&Y CS. Not on this next trip, though. We've got ADRs for breakfast at Boma in less than two weeks!
Oh my goodness, 
I'm trying so hard not to laugh out loud and wake someone here, that tears are trickling down with the effort. 
Great service!
GOOD FOR YOU!!! That entire story is probably the way my husband would have handled it, too. It's unbelievable how downhill customer service has gotten...
Again, you really gotta love Disney. 
.
). 
Me thinks maybe you protest too much about Disney service. 
.
