Our Kingdom of Dust (5 page)

On my left was a big sign that said “Soarin’”. I didn’t know what the hell Soarin’ was, but the name alone bugged me because it was missing a “g”, not to mention the fact that they’d apparently torn out Kitchen Kabaret to build it. Under the sign lay a queue that looked like an airport terminal. I was just in an airport two days ago. Looking at the queue made me feel like I was back there again, like my vacation was already over and I had to go back home. It stressed me out. Soarin’ could go fuck itself.

On my right, however, was Living with the Land, which by all appearances was the same boat ride through animatronic-filled landscapes and an honest-to-god futuristic greenhouse that I remembered loving as a kid. Could this finally be an untouched piece of EPCOT Center? Once again, there was no line at all for the ride, so I ran onto the boat, waved at the attendant, and beamed as the boat floated down an artificial canal into a rainforest. The spiel in the greenhouse was now prerecorded and no longer narrated by a real human being standing there in the boat, but whatever. It was a minor change, especially considering everything else was just as I’d remembered. When the ride ended I asked the attendant if I could stay on the boat and ride it through again. And for good measure, I rode it once more after that. I was kinda happy now.

Exiting The Land, I looked to the north and saw that The Living Seas now had
Finding Nemo
characters splattered all over it, so I immediately turned around and went the other direction, through what used to be CommuniCore West. There was a large indoor breezeway here that looked like it was straight out of 1982, like the people who’d fucked this place up somehow forgot the hallway existed. I sat on one of the benches in there for a while and looked up at the huge domed faux skylights above. Awesome.

I felt relaxed as I walked through the non-blacked-out sliding doors at the end of the breezeway and saw the Fountain of Nations all lit up, once again blowing water into the air in sync with a soundtrack. I looked to my left and noticed that from this angle I really couldn’t see the wand on Spaceship Earth. It occurred to me that maybe if I stayed on this side of it I’d be able to walk up to the ride without wanting to vomit. I was glad I did, because the ride itself was just as awesome as it’d always been, except that Jeremy Irons was doing the narration instead of Walter Cronkite. My first reaction was annoyance and I kinda wanted to tell Jeremy Irons to shut up, but then I decided it could have been worse: at least he was taking the ride seriously. It could have been Gilbert Gottfried cracking fart jokes or something like that. I rode Spaceship Earth three times, too.

After I exited the ride, now devoid of the old post-show, I took the Imagination Cast Member’s advice and filled out a complaint form at Guest Services. But I also wrote on there the stuff that I really enjoyed, just so it wasn’t all negative whining.

I was surprised to get a call from a lady a few weeks later who wanted to talk to me about why I hated Imagination so much. I tried to explain to her that they’d ruined a wonderful ride, but she wasn’t getting it, so I jumped onto YouTube, found a ride-thru video of the original version, read the link to her, and made her watch it while I stayed on the phone with her. At the end of the video there was silence.

“So, what’d you think?” I asked.

“That was amazing,” she said.

“I know. That’s why it’s sad that you guys fucked it up.”

“I’m sorry we’ve disappointed you, Mr. McKinnon.”

“Your condolences are appreciated. Please tell your superiors I’d be glad to offer my consultation the next time they decide to ‘refurbish’ one of your classic rides.”

“I’ll do that, Mr. McKinnon. Thank you for your time, and have a magical day.”

Later that year a temporary EPCOT Center museum opened up in my untouched 80s CommuniCore breezeway, in celebration of the park’s 25th Anniversary. It had props from all of the opening-day pavilions, and whoever put it together obviously had a deep appreciation for the original vision of the park. That sorta gave me hope for the future of EPCOT Center. (I still refuse to call it “Epcot”).

Chapter 8

I legit did spend that evening in my Jacuzzi, sipping port and watching The Disney Channel. Or at least, I watched The Disney Channel for a few minutes and then changed it because the shows were annoying and they weren’t playing any of the classic Walt stuff. I flipped through the stations until I came across the Resort Channel, which showed a thirty minute loop of some chick named Tracey running around the parks, riding the rides and hyping up various parts of Walt Disney World. It was pretty entertaining, so I watched that for a while and then rubbed one out because she was hot.

Anyway, it was a relaxing evening is my point.

The next day I spent sitting on a lounge chair on the beach, reading a book about The Imagineers that I’d purchased at The Art of Disney store in EPCOT Center. In between chapters I drank various brightly colored tropical drinks, watched the Friendship Boats go back and forth between the hotels, EPCOT Center, and Disney-MGM Studios, and watched moms and their jailbait daughters in bikinis walking between the hotels and Stormalong Bay, the Yacht and Beach Club’s waterpark area.

As I was coming back from the “beach” I ran into “Charles the Greeter” in the lobby.

“Hey, Charles,” I said, walking briskly to the elevator to avoid getting into a confrontation with him.

“Hello, good sir,” he said, showing me a large portion of his bright white teeth. “You and I should have a cocktail together some evening soon.”

“You bet, Charles. I’d love that.”

“How about Thursday evening? Thursday’s my day off! Let’s meet in the Belle Vue Lounge in the second floor of The BoardWalk Inn at eight PM. I’m buying!”

“Um, okay, sure. Thursday at eight PM at the Belle Vue. I’ll be there.”

“Looking forward to it, Mr. McKinnon!”

Shit. What had I gotten myself into?

I walked back to the room and tried to forget all about “Charles the Greeter”. I sat in the Jacuzzi, and watched Tracey going down the slides at the water parks, and once again rubbed one out.

My one-sided relationship with Tracey couldn’t continue forever, though. I decided I probably needed to try to meet a real girl, or at the very least start socializing with people. So, as tempting as it was to sit on the beach watching jailbait again the next day, and then come home to masturbate to a water-sliding Tracey, I decided to get my ass in gear and visit The Magic Kingdom. It was crazy that I’d been in Florida for three days and still hadn’t set foot inside the park that had made Orlando a vacation destination.

Instead of taking a bus over, I walked through EPCOT Center and hopped on the monorail outside the front gate. I had a cab all to myself, so I swung on the overhead grab rails like they were monkey bars, just because I could. The monorail disembarked at the Transportation and Ticket Center, where I then had the choice to take either a ferry or another monorail over to the park entrance. I decided to do the ferry, since I wanted to get the full Seven Seas Lagoon experience.

At the gate my Annual Pass worked as expected, and I went through the turnstile, into the tunnel under the railroad station, and out into expanse of Main Street. Something about that first view immediately brought back a feeling of childhood excitement, and I savored the memory of seeing it that first time with my parents and grandparents. I wasted no time getting into the meat of the park, starting at Adventureland and winding my way around to Tomorrowland, riding all of my favorite rides, happy that the place was pretty much the same as the last time I was there, aside from a fairly ugly facelift to Tomorrowland. I even bought a pair of Haunted Mansion-themed Mouse Ears, which I wore with pride. It was a fun day, and I pretty much had a big dumb grin on my face the whole time. I really was starting to feel like a kid again.

As I was leaving, I saw a group of people clustered around an alcove in Town Square, so I walked over to see what all the hubbub was about. I wormed my way through the crowd, knocking over a little girl in the process, but didn’t really feel bad about it because she was fat and not at all cute. But then I felt bad about not feeling bad about it so I gave her twenty bucks. Which she’d probably just spend on candy. Because she was fat.

I finally got to the front of the crowd and saw Snow White sitting with some snot-nosed kid. My first reaction was, “Aw, shit, this is a waste of time,” but then that disease-factory of a kid got off her lap and I looked closely at her and I swear I fell in love.

Like, seriously, right then and there I think I fell in love with Snow White.

Even through all the makeup and the stupid costume and the screaming kids climbing on her, I was dumbstruck by how gorgeous she was. There was something about her eyes, and the way she was looking at the kids, and the way she was handling herself that wasn’t quite princess-esque, but almost goth or punk or something. I didn’t know what it was, but this Snow White had attitude, and it was hot.

So, I decided to get my picture taken with her. Yep, I was going to sit next to her and get my picture taken. I cut in front of a few kids who were too busy staring at their shoes or some dumb shit like that and in a few minutes I was at the front of the line.

“And what is your child’s name?” asked the Cast Member gatekeeper.

“What child? I don’t have a child. It’s just me. I want to get my picture taken with Snow White. Is that a problem?”

“Absolutely not, sir. Just please be respectful of the princess. Inappropriate behavior will not be tolerated.”

“Dude, it’s not like I’m going to grab her tits or anything. I just want a picture with her….”

He stammered as I handed him my camera and walked over to Snow White.

I sat on the bench next to her. It was a small bench and we were pressed closely together. She smelled like makeup.

“Oh, what wonderful Mouse Ears!” she exclaimed.

I’d forgotten I was wearing them. I must have looked like the biggest dork.

“What’s your name, my charming prince?” she lilted. Her voice was kinda annoying, actually. It was high-pitched and nasally.

“Uh, it’s Blaine. Look, you don’t have to do all of the character bullshit. I just thought you were really beautiful and I wanted a picture of us together. Which, now that I’m saying it out loud, sounds pretty fucking creepy. Shit. Sorry.”

I started to stand up, but she pulled me back down to the bench.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said in a low, husky, extraordinarily sensual voice.

“Oh, damn!” I said quietly, immediately popping a major boner.

“Now turn around and let’s take this picture, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

The Cast Member snapped the picture, and I stood up and turned to Snow White, my obvious erection pointing straight at her face. She looked right at it, smiled seductively, spun me around, and lightly pushed me towards the frowning photographer.

“Shame on you,” he said, as he looked down at my pants and then handed me my camera. “Think of the children!”

“It’s not my fault she’s so fucking hot,” I said.

As I walked towards the exit I heard someone calling my name.

“Blaine, over here! It’s Jay!”

Holy shit, it really was Jay! He was wearing a sleeveless shirt that showed off his tattoos. The shirt was tucked into jean shorts. Classy. Kids were staring and pointing, and a few were actually touching the tattoos. He seemed to enjoy the attention.

I walked over to him and we shook hands.

“What are you doing, stalking Snow White or something?” I joked. “I mean, I can’t say I’d blame you or anything.”

He grinned as my mouth kept flapping. “She is so hot, I can’t believe it. Have you ever seen a princess that hot? I wonder what she looks like without all that makeup? I wonder what she looks like under that dress! Huh? Yeah? You know what I’m talking about?!”

“Blaine, that’s my girlfriend,” deadpanned Jay, with a Mona Lisa smile.

“Ha, yeah, right, in your dreams, maybe!”

“No, seriously, Blaine, that’s Lisa. She’s my girlfriend. That’s why I’m standing here.”

My jaw hit the fucking floor. I looked at his fat gut, his bald head, and his appalling fashion sense. No fucking way this dude was dating Snow White.

“No fucking way you’re dating Snow White,” I said.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Look, stick around for a bit and I’ll take you down to the Utilidors. Lisa’s shift ends in a few minutes. We can grab a snack at the employee cafeteria while she gets out of costume and takes her makeup off.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. I have free reign of this place, and mi casa es su casa. I’m also having a bunch of people over for dinner tonight who I think you’d be interested in meeting.”

“Um, yeah, sure, absolutely, I’d be honored!” I stammered. “Sorry I was talking like that about your girlfriend.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re right, she is extraordinarily hot, and I have no idea how I snagged her. I’m not an idiot, Blaine.” He turned and stared at Lisa as she kissed a little girl on the cheek, leaving a lipstick mark. “She’s way out of my league.”

“Dude,” I said, watching all of the kids’ dads drooling over her, “she’s way out of everyone’s league. You must have some serious mojo… or a monstrously huge dick.”

He looked down at his crotch and back up at me. “It’s gotta be mojo,” he said.

We both burst out laughing and walked away from the crowd.