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Disney and the Fat Man

Well, we went to Florida again. Revisiting the scene of the crime, I suppose. We did Disney, Seaworld, and the Gulf.

We made it back, and no one died. But it wasn’t all roses.

At the Contemporary Resort I found myself of arguing a position I didn’t really agree with. I was in the closest bathroom, referred to by a cast member, and it turned out it was a single person bathroom that was wheelchair accessible. It was also two rooms deep. A few minutes into my business some old guy started banging on the locked outer door with his cane. He was banging away and yelling at the door for about five minutes.

When I finished, I apologized for taking so long. The old fart then said, “It’s for the handicapped.”

Well, that galled me, so I said, “What, did I forget to wear the badge?”

I mean, how did he know whether or not I was handicapped? Is there a team meeting or something? I’m morbidly obese, my feet were covered in blisters, I have arthritis in my left foot and asthma. All he had was a cane. I kinda think, at least at Disney, I was probably more handicapped than HE was.

Anyway, I fit in all the rides I wanted to ride. The car almost exploded on the drive home, and the dogs did about $2,000 worth of damage to the house. Great fun.

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