Dale K. Robinson
It began with a telemarketer’s call.
“Sit through our presentation, tour our facility. We’ll put you up in a three-star hotel in the Orlando area for two nights for only $99.00 and give you $50.00 back to let us pitch our timeshare vacation package to you.”
“Honey, what do you think?” my wife asked.
Could I have a root canal instead?
After a few hours on the road with three boys in the Saturn’s backseat, I thought she was beginning to reconsider her answer. But when we saw a billboard that promised FREE Disney World tickets, I knew better. We stopped to check it out.
“Sit through our presentation, tour our facility, let us pitch our timeshare vacation package to you, and we’ll give you one day’s free admission to Disney. And we’ll throw in breakfast as well.”
“Honey, what do you think?” she asked again.
Is it too late for the root canal?
We arrived in Orlando that evening and checked in with the resort that had promised the three-star hotel. The folks at the resort gave us directions to the hotel, just a short distance down the street. We backtracked through the major street construction to the hotel and attempted to check in. We weren’t on their list. After that minor confusion, they checked us into a room. Naturally, the room air conditioning didn’t work. Three-star hotel? I don’t think so. The maintenance guy was nice enough though, and he quickly moved us to another room. Unfortunately, our daughter Virginia, who is a Cast Member at Disney, was expecting to meet us at the other room. And although local calls were supposed to be free, we couldn’t call out for some reason. (Thank goodness for that; when we checked out, another couple was arguing with the clerk about a $10 charge for a local call!) Still, we eventually connected with Virginia that evening and laid plans for the morrow’s assault on the Magic Kingdom.
The resort that had promised free Disney tickets was first on our agenda. At 7:30, we showed up to sit through their presentation and collect our tickets. About an hour and a half to two hours, they had said. “Great!” we had said and agreed to meet Virginia at 10 am for the second timeshare pitch. Of course, the best laid plans …
At ten, we were still at the first resort, we didn’t have our Disney tickets yet, my wife was getting antsy and the boys were getting bored. Virginia had no idea what had happened to us. And we were supposed to be at the other resort for their presentation at 10:30.
We made it to the second resort, Disney tickets firmly in hand, at 12:30. No problem, they said. And they quickly took us in hand to begin their spiel. There was a great difference between the two presentations. The first one was conducted without pressure and the people seemed sincere and honest; it was enjoyable even if it took twice as long as promised. The second resort’s presentation was high pressure and lacked something. After finally getting them to take “no” for an answer, we shook hands and left with our fifty bucks. My wife washed her hands twice and I think she counted her fingers. I know I did.
It’s now something like 2:30 in the afternoon and we still haven’t made it to Disney or even connected with Virginia. The root canal is sounding much better all the time. Finally, we find Virginia’s apartment complex and the six of us set off for the Magic Kingdom. Thanks to Virginia’s status as a Cast Member, we avoided the $6.00 parking fee.
Then began the first of the lines. We stood in line for the tickets. We stood in line for the Dumbo ride (well, they did; I found a shady place to sit with a cold drink.) Despite the lines, we sailed to Never-Never Land with Peter Pan, flew with Goofy the Barnstormer, socialized with Goofy, Pluto, and Minnie in Toon Town, and visited with Winnie the Pooh in the Hundred Acre Wood. I could have passed on the Small World ride; it was much more impressive on TV. Space Mountain was exciting and I enjoyed the Buzz Lightyear ride, of course.
But the highlight of the whole thing was Meeting The Mouse. The line was horrendous, like a huge serpent coiled back upon itself and winding slowly toward its prey. The line inched forward and the boys complained – “We want to do something else! We hate standing in line! Can’t we do something else?” It was the same refrain we’d heard since we stepped into the first line for tickets. And like every other line, when we finally got to the head, they we’re happy and excited.
It was at this point that my wife, happily snapping photos, reached the end of the roll of film. Frantically searching for a fresh roll, she discovered that it was her last roll! Here we are, making the pilgrimage of a lifetime, finally coming face to face with Mickey, himself! And we’re out of film!! Fortunately, it was Virginia and her camera to the rescue.
The rest of the evening was anti-climatic. We shopped for souvenirs and watched the fireworks at closing time. My feet hurt and my back ached and I was happy to take the monorail and tram back to the parking lot. Still all in all, I am sure it was more enjoyable than a root canal. Even with all the lines and our late start, we had a good time and made some great family memories.
Originally published in The Destin Log newspaper in Destin. Florida, April 2000.