Impressions de France finished up just in time for our 2:00 (or was it 2:30? Meh. "2" was involved somehow) ADR at Restaurant Marrakesh. With the promise of food and the necessity of walking, I woke up a little.
Marrakesh could've been a walk-up; there were two other groups there. Remember my sparkly Trip Planner Tiara? It sparkled again, because I'd managed to pick a time when the belly dancer would perform.
Melneth enjoyed the belly dancer because it reminded her of when she'd visited Restaurant Marrakesh with her parents as a young child, and the belly dancer invited her up to dance, too. She liked it so much that she asked her parents if they could stay until the belly dancer's next show, so they spent at least two or three hours in Marrakesh.
Nevi reminisced (or at least I think she did; we at least discussed it briefly) her belly dancing classes that she'd taken a year or so ago.
I just got to feel inadequate since I don't have a belly dancer's abs, and that without the benefit of pleasant memories.
I also made a mental note to attempt to look up local belly dancing classes when I got home. Haven't done it yet. In all truth, probably won't do it. Instead, I'll hopefully purchase the Wii Fit and do a lot of the hula hoop exercises. I figure it'd be a similar workout, but without the finger chimes.
But I'm sure you're bored with my talk of an as yet nonexistent exercise regimen.
Now to bore you with our food choices (because what's the point when you have no food porn? And yet I'm including it anyway. Guess I'm desperate for material). I had the chicken kebabs. I liked it, though the chicken was a little dry. Melneth had the Sultan's Sampler Platter. I think she mostly liked it (I was still ruminating over my non-belly-dancer's abs. Yes, I am--or at least can be--that self-absorbed). Nevi had the Chicken Cous Cous. As I recall, it had lots and lots of a sauce that hadn't been listed on the menu, thus rendering it very difficult to taste the chicken or the cous cous. So it should've been called Sauce With Other Stuff You Won't Taste, So Why Does It Matter?
So on the whole, I personally was rather meh about Marrakesh. The service was all right, the music was Moroccan (or at least Disney
tells me it was Moroccan; having never been to Morocco or really investigated its traditions, it could be a vast conspiracy of lies and I wouldn't know it), and the belly dancer brought on feelings of inadequacy.
Yeah, I think I could skip it next time.
But it was good sitting with my friends and talking (I did pay attention to at least
some of the conversation) and being in A/C for a while. So it could've been worse.
We left Marrakesh to tackle the last thing on our Touring Plan for the Day: Innoventions West. I'd have liked to have tried a Segway, but wasn't interested in waiting in line.
The Unofficial Guide had spoiled me. Queues? Bah! I have no time for stinkin' queues!
So after browsing a bit but deciding not to play with any of the innoventions, I spied the "What's Your Problem?" game show area. "Melneth," I said, "Wasn't that something you said you wanted to do?"
Let me back up a moment, since I'm fond of doing that. "What's Your Problem" is billed as a "comedy game show" in Slapstick Studios Presented by Velcro. Take note of the "Presented by Velcro" bit. I'll wait while you mentally digest that.
Digested? Good. Continuing on:
Before Melneth could reply to my question, a sixities-ish (not as in "he could have come from the '60s," but as in "more aged than we three") CM fairly leapt upon us. "Excellent choice! The show's about to start!"
At the over-eagerness of the CM, and the lack of people in the waiting area for a show that was "about to start," a warning bell went off in my head. But we went on with it anyway.
After about five minutes, a couple more groups showed up, bringing our audience total to nine members, I believe. We were herded inside the "game room," where there were three sections of benches. Of course, each group took its own section.
Our first "host," whom I will call "I Heart Velcro," briefly explained "What's Your Problem?" We, the audience, would be called upon to "solve problems" with the wondrous substance called Velcro, which was first invented by Blah Blah in the year yada yada when he was out walking his dog and the poor creature got cockleburs stuck to its fur. Blah Blah investigated the cocklebur and realized that the burr had little hooks on it, and that's how it stuck to unlucky Fido, resulting in a Eureka! moment for Blah Blah: What if he capitalized on Fido's misfortune by creating a product on a similar hook-and-loop concept?
I Heart Velcro demonstrated Velcro for us. "Here's the strip with loops, and here's the strip with hooks. Put them together and they stick! Pull them, and they come apart!"
Shocking! Amazing! Please, oh please, tell me where I, too, may purchase this miraculous invention for use in my own home!
I mean, come on. I was slow at learning to tie my shoes and so wore with Velcro strap footwear into the first grade. I may have sucked at bow-tying, but I mastered Velcro use early on.
I Heart Velcro then introduced the second host, Smiley McSmilerton. Smiley McSmilerton then explained that he and I Heart Velcro would be leading "teams" who would have to solve the "problems," which would be of a competitive nature.
At this point I looked around the room again. Yup, still nine members in the audience
cum. Which meant we had nine contestants. And there would be multiple games.
This, thought I,
does not bode well.
And bode well it did not. Smiley McSmilerton selected his first two contestants from the far end of the room (Nevi, Melneth, and I had picked the section closest to the door; and instinctual desire to be near the exit, perhaps?) so I Heart Velcro zeroed in on our group.
Nevi and me in particular.
But we're generally affable, compliant people. We don't say no when asked to do things. So up on stage we went, where we introduced ourselves and got the "Oh, ho ho, that's funny, and makes it easy!" bit that frequently comes up when people learn we have the same name.
Because Jiri and Nevi aren't our real names. In case you missed that.
Melneth does not have the same name. If you were wondering. That would be a little much.
Anyhoo.
The first game involved packing. There was some sort of lead-in about how "you packed for the trip to come here to Disney World, didn't you? Isn't packing difficult?"
But the challenge itself was for one person to wear a Velcro-loop cape while the other person picked up items with Velcro-hooks attached to them and stick them to the Velcro-cape-wearer. Whichever team's human pack mule had the most stuffed animals (and yes, children often pack stuffed animals when going on a trip, but where's the stuff I'd actually
need?) stuck to him or her at the end of the time limit would win. Nevi got to wear the cape. She has a fondness for capes, but I don't think she liked this one much. I was the one who got to attach things to her.
Are you as confused as I am as to how this has anything to do with packing?
Still, gotta wonder, though, if "packing" in such a method would make airport security easier or worse to get through. Presumably all the items would be visible for security to see, but the human pack mule would still have to take off the Velcro-cape to go through the sensor. Since even though becoming a human pack mule would have to be pretty degrading (sorry, Nevi) I hope we wouldn't stoop so low as to send HPMs down the conveyor belt and through the X-ray machine.
Even though it might be funny.
So I'm not thinking this is the solution to the problem of slow airport security.
Strike one, Velcro.
And now, readers, a surprise!
I know, I know, you are shocked and amazed that there's a picture here, since I made a big deal about not having taken any pictures from Epcot Day 1 aside from Captain Hook. But Melneth took it, so neener neener, I was telling the truth.
You are probably also shocked and amazed that I put a star over my own head, since I have previously revealed my own features with no compunctions. But this, my dear readership, is not the most flattering picture of me. My head looks like it has a bald spot. Which I think is actually Nevi's outstretched hand, but it takes effort to explain that (even though I just did) since it's not immediately
clear that Nevi's hand is Nevi's hand, so it's easier to just pretend my head looked like a black star that day.
Because Melneth didn't take any other, more flattering, pictures.
::Sigh:: I still love you, sweetie. I blame myself for not setting a better picture-taking example.
And last, you are not shocked, not amazed, but
appalled that we're not wearing the Matching T-Shirts. Since they have power and all. And it's in the TR title.
But. They had gotten stinkified at AK, remember, and we'd washed them using Woolite. A long and arduous process made all the longer by drying to line-dry (or, in our case, chair-back-dry) clothing in Florida humidity. So no T-shirts that day.
Back to the joy of games with Velcro. The next competition was supposed to explain how men are helpless at caring for infants.
But wait! I hear you screech.
Who won?
Well. If it had been us, I'd have mentioned it. We got the stinkin' "stick-to-it-iveness" consolation prize. Which was some sort of sticker that I think I threw away.
Are you happy now?
Ahem.
So, the next competition was designed to show the helplessness of men when caring for infants. Because the hosts specifically chose men and brought in the stereotype of how difficult it is for a man to change a diaper. Their challenge: baby dolls (Velcro-pasted ones, of course) would go down a conveyor belt. The men would have to velcro diapers to them before the were knocked into a bin. At the end of the time limit, who ever had the most Velcro-diapered babies would win.
Honestly, I can't remember if it was I Heart Velcro's team or Smiley McSmilerton's team that won. I was too busy thinking that this was
sooo unlike how one ought to treat real children. Anyone who Velcro'd an infant to a conveyor belt to have it tossed into a bin would be arrested for child abuse. And that lesser charge, rather than manslaughter or even murder, is assuming the baby would live.
Yes, I think about things like this. I'm an INFJ on the Myers-Briggs personality scale; we're supposed to be complex. I'm just living up to the full potential of my personality. Which is my right.
There may have been one other competition, but I blocked it out. Once we reemerged into the sunlight, we headed over to Innoventions East, though it wasn't on the Epcot Day One touring plan (who says we can't be flexible?) but were just as uninterested in what we saw there as we had been with Innoventions West. So we left Epcot and headed back to the hotel room.
We made it to Pleasure Island by 8:00 and popped into the Comedy Warehouse.
Hi. Lar. I. Ous. If you have chance to go before it closes in September,
do. Let the lovely improv comedians know that you appreciate them, even if Disney doesn't.
But I'm not bitter about the closing of PI. Honest.
Anyway, Melneth managed to get herself seated next to one of the phones on the wall, which we'd discovered on our previous night at PI (and which went unreported since I was tired of writing at that point and didn't remember much about it anyway) that the improvers would probably call someone on one of the phones to give details about themselves that would then be used in a skit for the enjoyment of others.
Yes, Melneth is braver than I.
But her efforts came to no fruition, because it was not our phone that rang, alas.
And I'd give you details about the person who it
did ring for, if I happened to remember. Which I don't. Because I didn't take good notes from that evening, and I was starting to feel my sleep deprivation on a more consistent basis. Something had to suffer, and unfortunately my memory was it.
Sorry.
After our stint at the Comedy Warehouse, we popped over to the Adventurer's Club, just in time to catch the tail-end of something-or-other involving The Maid. Only the little area was crowded, so Nevi and I couldn't really hear what was going on. She and I went to explore the mask-room while Melneth stayed for the rest of it, if I remember properly.
The mask-room was freaky, and Nevi and I concluded that some of them probably talked to you when one of the games/events was going on in there.
Melneth re-emerged and we jumped out for the next show at the Comedy Warehouse. About which I also remember very little. And even though this is therefore far from a stellar recommendation for the Comedy Warehouse, you should still go. If you can. Before it's gone forever.
::mourningwithoutbitterness--hahanotreally::
Sorry again.
We dropped back at the Adventurer's Club one last time, where the Maid had another thing going, this one involving asking for help from a haunted picture that was in love with her. I can't remember what her problem was, but it wasn't anything that could be solved with Velcro.
Strike two, Velcro.
And now it was nearing 10:00, so we decided to head back to our hotel room since the next day was our Magic Kingdom Day. And the Touring Plan instructed us to arrive 70 minutes before park opening.
And we obeyed the plan.
Now, I'll mention here that Melneth liked to look over the Touring Plan the night before, and the UG's descriptions of the attractions, to get a feel for what we'd be doing.
Nevi was fine doing whatever. She's not much of a planner. (So she'd do well on the Pirate Non-Itinerary Itinerary, TK
) But Melneth liked to preview.
Which brought up an issue.
"Okay," she said, "We've the Pirate and Princess Party tomorrow night."
"Yup," I said.
"And some of the attractions aren't open during it."
"Yup," I said.
(I think Nevi was taking her shower at this point.)
"And we're doing the one-day touring plan, which
The Unofficial Gudie says not to be surprised if you don't finish it."
"Uh-huh."
"So I'm thinking maybe we should skip some of the attractions that we know will be open during the Pirate and Princess Party."
My chest imploded.
Well, not really. But she was suggesting deviating from the Touring Plan, and that struck fear into my very core.
"Um," I said. "I'd really prefer to stick with the plan." My bowels roiled.
"Because the things I really want to do won't be open during the Pirate and Princess Party, and if we can't get everything done, I'll miss out on what I want to do."
But the plan! The precious, precious plan! When the UG had served us so well at AK and Epcot! How could we ignore the advice of the UG and
skip stuff if it was something even one of us wanted to do (e.g., me and Space Mountain, me and Buzz Lightyear, etc. etc., etc.)?
Because I was tired, and because I like things to be set out, I felt myself getting very near either tears or saying something I shouldn't in a manner I shouldn't, so instead I proclaimed loudly, "I'm too tired to think about this right now! We can make a decision in the morning!" and proceeded to climb into bed and shut my eyes.
And agonize. The integrity of the plan had been challenged. I could not rest until I found a solution. Which I did, at perhaps 12:30 or one o'clock. What if the three of us picked our three top attractions that were must-do's, and we did those (in the order of the Touring Plan,of course; it was like my security blanket), then focused on the stuff none of us cared for about too much?
It seemed like a good compromise to me, but since we were all ostensibly sleeping at this point, I decided to spring it in the morning. And at last, I was able to fall asleep.
To be continued. Dun dun dunnn!*
Up Next: Do we follow the Touring Plan? Do we not? Do I fall asleep again in select attractions? Find out next time in
Two Doctors and Their Less-Educated Friend: The Power of Matching T-Shirts!
*Yes, please allow me to draw out what little drama I may. All those creative writing classes I took informed me that good writing has conflict. I want to get my money's worth. Or my parents' money's worth.
I do remember I had a split second of worry, since real skunk-stench is difficult to get out of things. I wasn't sure what I was going to do if it lasted like the real thing!
I'm all for no 80's hair. But then, I don't remember the 1985-87 version, though I think I was there during that time frame; I would've been 3-5, which is when I believe I had my first trip to the World. So I supposedly saw it.
Aren't they a hoot?
Sorry you guys lost, if you'd been wearing the t-shirts the power might have helped you.
It also makes me want to whip out my touring guides from UG as well but for some reason I am resisting. Curious, very curious. 
Sounds like a solid theory to me! 
Welcome, and thank you for stroking my ego! 
