So now we’re all aboard the plane and we’re ready to go. I’m
sitting in the front with Brody. It’s his first time flying and when I ask him
if he’s excited, he gives me one of those 14 year old shrugs. But he can’t fool
me! His eyes are wide open and I can see the smile on his face when he thinks
I’m not looking. As the plane pulls away from the jet way thingy, he leans
forward and looks out the window. And yup, his eyes are
full of wonder and excitement.
I was a little disappointed that when they did the safety
thing about where the exits are, don’t form a line for the restroom at the
front of the plane and how to blow up your life vest, they didn’t sing it or
rhyme it. I thought that was one of the benefits of flying Southwest. Sort of
like a traveling air show. But the waitresses in the sky DID pass out peanuts,
to which Brody replied “They really DO pass out peanuts! I thought it was just
like a.. stereotype”. It was cute, he had no idea that peanuts are the main source
of protein on flights these days. I insisted he make a trip to the restroom
because everyone should pee in a plane at least once. I was sorry Barb wasn’t
sitting with us to experience all his firsts.
So after the uneventful flight to Baltimore (no screaming
babies… or adults, no highjacking, no one with a shoe bomb [Thank goodness they
check all the shoes, huh?] and no plane crash, we land safely. I already know that I will get off the plane last but they come to
tell me to wait to deplane so everyone else can get out .And of course get
another chance to throw daggers at me.
So I wait and the plane empties out except for me and Brody.
At least FIVE different airline people, including the pilot, come over to tell
me my scooter will be here in just a minute. I’m perfectly patient, knowing
what a pain in the ass it must be for them to have to bring it up. After a few
minutes, the sky waitresses for the next flight come on board as does the pilot
and co-pilot. Now I’m starting to get nervous. I don’t know where this plane is
headed but I don’t want to go there! Finally, fifty-three people tell me the
scooter has arrived! Have you ever had SO MUCH customer service that you just
want to scream at them? Maybe it’s just Massachusetts people but I have no
patience for that. For three and four and five people coming over and being
sickly sweet and telling me the same thing. Yes, yes, I know the scooter is
here – do you see me trying to get up? Sigh.
So I get onto the scooter and scoot up the ramp… only to be
met by 100+ people who have been standing in line waiting to board the plane
but couldn’t because once again, the fat lady in the scooter needed to perform
her one lady parade. Again, I’ve caused a plane full of people to hate me.
Lovely, just lovely. Can anyone guess what happens next? Yep… We get to our
gate for the connecting flight to Orlando and guess who they’re waiting for to
board the plane? And guess who’s got to scoot by the angry huddled masses? This
parade I’ve got going on is getting ridiculous. Maybe I should be throwing
beads to people or something. At this point, I just want to crawl under a rock…
I scoot down the runway and hobble onto the plane, Brody
beside me every step of the way, being my +1. But wait, what’s this? The front
bulkhead seats are taken! People are already on the plane, in MY seats! But
there’s no assigned seating on Southwest, which makes it a free for all.
Apparently these people were on the previous flight and are continuing on to
Orlando. So I end up walking down to the fourth or fifth row. I ask Brody if he
wants the window seat, but if he does, he’s not getting out during the flight
because once I sit down, I’m not going anywhere. He decides to let me have the
window and I sit. And then I scoot over…wait… no, I don’t scoot over. I CAN’T
scoot over! I’m stuck!! My left foot (not the movie) can’t get past the metal
part of the row in front of me, and because I can’t lean forward due to the
seats in front of me beingthisclose, I have no leverage to free
the foot. And because I can’t scoot, Brody is standing in the aisle and holding
up the passengers again! Executive decision time! Brody, you need to crawl over
the seat and sit by the window because I can’t move. He goes to the empty row
behind me and manages to jump over into his seat without kicking me in the
head, so I guess that’s one for the plus column, right?
So I’m stuck in the aisle seat for the whole flight, which
is fine. The plane lands and yes, you know the drill… wait til everyone
deplanes then my scooter will come. This time though, the waiting is a Godsend.
Why? Because guess who is stuck and can’t get up?
Yes ladies and gents, I am full fledged stuck in aisle five,
seat C. In a matter of three seconds, I’m already imagining the chaos I’m about
to face. I’m already thinking about how they’re going to try to get me out and
how none of their attempts will work. And sure enough, once they realize I’m
not getting up but everyone is off the plane already, the line of Helpful
Harrys starts. One by each, the flight attendants, the pilot (I’m not even
kidding), the co-pilot, the guy who brought my scooter up… they come to ask me
how they can help. But they can’t. Short of bringing in maintenance and
removing the row of seats in front of me, there’s nothing they can do. Brody
jumps the seats again and tries to help but I’m the only one who can unstick
me. And after several attempts and physics experiments, I manage to squeeze
myself up, out, and into the aisle. Whew! I thought I was going to be a
permanent airplane fixture!
For once, I’m not greeted by angry villagers because it’s
nearly 10pm and I think the airport is shutting down. The gate area is
practically a ghost town. So off we go, 7 stranded castaways… oh wait, wrong
story… 7 tired vacationers in search of the Magical Express.
Have you ever been to Orlando airport? It’s one of those
places where you take the walking sidewalk to the monorail shuttle to the
concourse to the gateway to the indoor hotel in the middle of the airport to
the long hallway to the short hallway to the.. well, you get my point, right?
We’re following the signs to Disney’s Magical Express and finally we see the
check in area. I immediately get that feeling. You know the one… where you’re
waiting in line at the bank and you see that one teller… the one that takes
forever. She counts out your one dollar bills as if they were hundreds, holding
them to the light, then makes a mistake anyway? You know - her? And as you’re in
line, you’re trying to figure out if she’s going to be the one to say “Next
please” when it’s your turn? Yeah, that’s the feeling I got. As we approach I’m
doing the math and it’s not working out in my favor (remember I said that math
isn’t my strong suit). Sure enough, we get that agent.
Barb breaks out the “Disney Wristbands”, we put them on and touch
the Mickey insignia to the Mickey orb on the desk. And we’re checked in. OMG,
is it possible that we’ve successfully completed a task with no issue? Hahahaha…
of course not!!
Now think back to part one - during check in, just before Barb
had to make a mad dash home for the carry on. Remember? I was supposed to tell
the Southwest ticket agent that we didn’t have the special yellow stickers that
indicated we were Magical Express people. But I forgot. Sigh!
The whole thing with the Magical Express is that they take
care of picking up your luggage and bringing it to your room – so you don’t
have to deal with baggage claim or schlepping luggage to a taxi or shuttle. You
get to bypass that and just board the huge motor coach that is emblazoned with ‘Disney
Magical Express” on it. It then drops everyone off at their resorts where their
luggage is waiting for them (uh huh, yeah, right…). But our luggage is naked! No yellow tags! So
we tell this to Henrietta, or whatever her name was, and you could almost see
her brain come to a complete stop. “No yellow stickers… this does not compute…
danger, danger Will Robinson”… A five minute discussion ensues ending with her
walking away to check with someone else. I KNEW we should have waited for the
other teller! She comes back with news that if she can just have our baggage
claim tickets, we’ll be fine and we can finally go forward to the magical area
to catch the magical bus.
Off we go, through the cattle ropes, even though the place
was nearly empty. When we got up closer, they sectioned us off into the
handicapped area because of the scooter. Now let me say this… I’m a seasoned
traveler, though as I said, it’s been awhile. But if I’ve learned anything by
living life in this body, it’s to be my own advocate and to be prepared. Prior
to starting this trip, I checked over and over with the travel agent and Disney
guides online about the transportation. I was assured there would be no
problems. Hahahaha!
Smiling person #1 comes to tell us that it will be just a
moment. Smiling person #2 comes to tell us that it’ll be just another few
minutes. Smiling person #1 comes back and asks “Are you able to get off the
scooter?”. By this time, I tired and cranky and I want to respond with “No, I
never get off the scooter. I sleep on it, shower on it, in fact, I’m fused to
it!” But I don’t say that. But I DO say no, because I realize that they want me
to get off the scooter and enter the bus through the regular door. However, I’m
no regular person! There is NO WAY I would be able to get up those bus steps.
They’re like 3 feet high I think, right?
Along comes smiling person #3 and says that the bus cannot
accommodate me on the scooter, but not to worry, they’ve called in the cavalry!
They have a solution, so if we could just hold on… like we’re going to go
anywhere? Finally a passenger van that can carry me on my scooter and my 6
companions shows up and off we go to Disney World. And with the exception of
the Disney Wristband, none of this vacation has been “Magical” yet!
Stay tuned! More to come – hotel fun and park madness!
