A Bad Day at Disneyland
When my sister invited my wife and me to Disneyland, my first reaction was no. I don’t like crowds, tourist traps or long lines. We were also in the midst of a brutal heat wave. But my wife wanted to go so I relented. We met my sister and her two boys in the parking lot around 9:00 am. The place was already a zoo. When the tram arrived to take us to the front gate there was only one row of seats left. A sunburned bald guy cut us off and directed his wife and kids to steal our spot.
“Dude, those are our seats,” I yelled.
“Go fuck yourself,” he yelled back.
His boys stared in horror. My nephews were also alarmed. I took some deep breaths and quelled the vitriol in my gut. Another tram took us to the front gate. A sign read: “Welcome to the Happiest Place on Earth.” We bought our tickets then strolled into Main Street, Disney’s version of a 1950's era American town minus the lynchings. The ragtime music and cotton candy smells only increased my grouchiness. The first theme character we encountered was Eeyore from Winnie-the-Pooh. “Look at that ass,” I whispered to my wife. “Behave,” she said. “Your nephews are here to have fun.”
My nephews Tony and Dre wanted to hit all the exciting rides. First on their list was Space Mountain. A sign at the back of the line read “Wait Time 90 minutes.” I regaled my nephews with stories of…
