The Fast and the Furry-ous

I’ve told you before about Clay and Carol. Along with Carol’s husband, Tommy, all are fantastic friends of the family. Clay and I have been friends almost since birth, I “think” he’ll even claim me today. He’s a brother from another mother. 

And father for that matter. No genetic material in common.  

If you haven’t read about past adventures, pause the video here and read this: 

https://www.suchandsuchdesigns.com/blogs-and-such/winnie-the-what-now 

Good. 

Now, that you’re back… 

The Duncans and our family are close. On another of our famous jaunts down to the most expensive – I mean, magical – place on Earth, we were packed into the three rows of Carol’s van. I’d make some inference that we were like sardines, but it’s simply not true. Everyone had space. This was still a time when vans were vans and men were men. Or something of some such. 

Anyway… 

We were rope droppers. What this means, for the uninitiated, is that we would wake up super early and before the park even opened its gates we would queue up and stand there to be some of the first people around the park. Go down to Disney. Do this. You’ll see we’re not that strange.  

Before you can hop on a monorail or be ferried over the moat-ish water of the Seven Seas Lagoon, (Pro tip: Don’t “morning” the monorail. The capacity just isn’t there. Boats are better.) you’re stopped by a line of toll booth-esque monoliths. Each is loaded with an infectiously happy person at an all-too-early-hour that will kindly ask you for half your life savings to park.  

So… 

There are about three or four cars in front of us, each stopping and taking a second to pay their way and are waved through one at a time. And after a few moments only one stood between us and – get this – waiting in another line.  

The car in front of us drives forward, pausing for a much shorter period of time before being waved on, following traffic into the parking lots of the glorious, magical, Magic Kingdom. 

Carol lifts her foot off the gas and drifts forward, pulling up to the woman who will take our money and allow entrance—one step closer to chumming it up with the Pirates of the Caribbean or the Enchanted Tiki Room birds.  

Closer and closer we inch… 

And then…  

Carol presses the button and her window slides down halfway.  

And then… 

Carol pulls the money from her purse… 

And then…  

The entire car hears metal clank against metal as Carol SMASHES the accelerator to the floor. 

As we speed past the confused woman at the earliest possible hour of the morning, we hear three words that will forever be burned into our psyche.  

“Magic Kingdom… HELLO?!?!?” 

“Carol? What are you doing?!” 

The brakes SCREECH as the rear tires smoke, the van shudders to a complete and immediate stop.  

“We have to pay for parking,” my mom mutters. 

Instead of backing the car up, Carol fully rolls the window down and waves the money out the window. Did she expect the lady to run to the car and collect it? Was she expecting Minnie to drive up in another van and escort her in? I don’t think any of us know. And I knew, at that moment, none of us cared.  

Finally, after far too long, Carol puts the car in reverse and backs up to where the woman has fully emerged from her parking gate shell. Color her embarrassed.  

Carol smiles and says, as if nothing had happened, “Morning!” She hands the attendant the money in exchange for a ticket that will become bleached by the immense heat of the Florida sun in the eighteen hours we’re at the park. The woman smiles back at Carol and points – with two fingers, three fingers, or the entire palm – to where we should park the car. 

After this, Carol gingerly pulls into a parking space.  

My mom looks to Carol and asks, “Carol? Why did you think about stopping then rush the gate?” 

“All the people in front of them stopped to pay. But the person right in front of us didn’t. So, I thought we were good to go,” she replied.  

Clay, dryly from the middle set of seats says, “Mom. They were annual passholders. They don’t have to pay for parking.”  

Silence. 

Then, the entire car erupts with laughter at this gargantuan misunderstanding. And if you know, Carol, her tittering went higher and longer as the day went on and she was reminded of this faux pas.  

If Disney (or any other theme park for that matter) reopens to capacity again and Mickey Mouse skips up to you smiling, take a moment to smell the roses and take a picture.  

And always – I mean, ALWAYS, pay the toll! Who knows what cops dressed as Goofy will do to get their money! 

Until next time… “Magic Kingdom… Goodbye!?!?” 

~ Brandon L. Joyner