I witnessed something for the first time during our trip to Disneyland this time – the parks were filled to capacity and people were being turned away at the park entrance. It was a revelation of sorts to me because I didn’t know the park had a capacity to begin with. It was always such a sea of folks that I imagined those at the gates just stood there and sighed people through thinking of flood gates and drops in an ocean or whatever it is folks at park entrances think about. This historic day meant that the usually long lines were enough to sink the heart of the most optimistic soul.
I shall outline for you the process of buying some food on days such as this:
1) Position 1 member with a cell phone in hand at the back of a line that is nowhere near a food court. It is preferable if this person is a stamina gun and one who posesses a certain capacity to entertain and amuse the mind while standing in the queue. Reading the park map only gets you through 10 minutes (even if you memorize the names of all rides and restaurants – I checked), and the lines to get food snaked much longer that.
2) The other member with a cell phone must be one skilled enough to spot movement from a mile away and swoop down like a hawk. Hawks, if you study them, don’t swoop on whims. They observe, detect and decide on when to swoop on their prey. Looking around, reading subtle body language signals from other members already seated and eating. Constrained in every way by the burden of being a human being means no wings, no huge wing spans from which to soar and spy, bad eye-sight and not to mention the fact that we actually have bladders with needs while hawks probably don’t.
I functioned as the latter in our team of food gatherers. I had going for me what hawks probably didn’t. Optimism. I walked around aimlessly, smiling at people who made the mistake of making eye contact at me. Finding seating for a party of two on a day like this is a challenge, try doing it for seven and then one sees why the stomach is such an irascible thing to live with. I mean, cannot it eat for the day in the morning at the free breakfast buffet? It certainly behaved like it was. Ate like it was preparing for a spell of 24 hours in famine country and yet 5 hours later, the glutton was asking for more. Tut!
After what seemed like hours, I found 2 folks shifting their left buttock. I swooped – I’d gotten 2 seats. This is where Genghis Khan can take his lessons from me. Having acquired this piece of real estate, I looked around once again and found a couple chatting with fervour. People were leaving them alone since their plates seemed full. But I saw their plates were full enough, but not full enough to last till team member (1) got to the head of the line. I sat there looking bored and played with their little one amusing himself by throwing things on the floor from the table. I peek-a-boo-ed and gurgled. I don’t know whether Genghis Khan actually enjoyed conquering more lands, I enjoyed the process of playing with this child leaving the harried ones to eat in peace. They were so grateful that they actually got another chair for me and joined the tables together before leaving.
And that is how one gets seven seats together on a day that Walt Disney’s spectre gets turned away from the park.
That is also the story of us becoming Dislineophobes (yes, creativity takes a hit when attention is diverted to survival, and I couldn’t find the word for fear of queues)
Happy New Year Folks!