This post might be met with some criticism but it needs to be said in order for you to get a complete picture of who this Glennis person is.
So here it is.
I'm not a huge fan of Disney World. Or Disney in general.
Now before you get all huffy and storm out on me just hold yer horses (this is foreshadowing)!!
Here's what I'll say about Disney. I don't like all that fake happiness. It makes me feel like they're hiding something. Like they have children slaving away underground on bikes that make the rides move. Can you imagine how hard that must be?!?
Also, I don't like that they make people "audition" to work there. Even just to work in the food court! That's what I heard anyway. That's right, I know your secrets, Disney! The people were either WAY too peppy (the man who met us in line while waiting to check in to the hotel had a catch phrase. That phrase was "super cool!" Didn't that make him die a little inside? I ask you.) or just happy enough for you to realize just how truly miserable they were (the woman who took my money in the food court).
I just encountered so many emotions I haven't been met with since leaving the mystical land of Colorado. Which brings me to Captain America.
Liz and I decided it would be possibly the best idea ever to get tickets to Dolly Parton's Dixieland Stampede theme dinner. We were, as always, correct. The brochure recommended reservations so I gave them a little ringle. Of course I put on my finest southern accent which sent Liz and I into a silent fit of giggles between my responses. The man on the other end must have known I was "puttin on airs" for he sounded none to pleased with my accent. (Oh let me say that this theme dinner was not IN Disney, but in Orlando near our hotel.) So we get our tickets and say, despite what he thought my obvious choice would have been, we'd like to sit with the North (not the South. As there is a battle. Between North and South. While you eat.)
I'm not lying when I tell you Liz and I were pretty freaking excited for the campiness of this show. We were so totes in high school when her brother dropped us off in front of Dolly's Stampede in the white mini-van. We were even more totes in high school when we squealed with delight when a stampede of buffalo, bathed in Prince mist, entered the arena before our very eyes! But I'm getting ahead of myself.
The man who sold us our tickets to the show was Captain America. Or at least he played him at the Disney park. He was what you'd expect CA to look like: tall, dark, handsome... and straight out of 1950.
Where are you ladies from?
Wow! Neato! What do you do?
I'm an actress, Liz is a writer.
(come on, like he wanted to hear we're secretaries)
Oh wow! An actress! A writer! Wow! (to me) So do you have an agent and stuff?
WOW!! Are you SAG?
NEATO MOSQUITO!! (he didn't actually use that phrase)
I'm an actor too. I used to live in Queens.
Ok, so let me get this straight. You just went abs bananas over that conversation and you used to LIVE in NY as an Actor?
Oh sweet, sweet, handsome, naive Captain America. If you're reading this, please email me as I think I’m in love.
And now, back to the Stampede. There was a pre-show show in which they announced that we'd be watching the comedy stylings of Lucas! Yay! He's performed for 3 presidents! Lucas! Oh man, this is going to be good.
Lucas juggled a lot and might have been homophobic (if only for the fact that while juggling scarves he said, "This trick is really popular in San Francisco." The audience, who up to that point had been lukewarm (or Lucas-warm, if you will) just about DIED. Apparently Middle America can be united on masked bigotry. Lucas juggled and "joked" (I use that term VERY loosely) for a while and just as Liz and I thought we'd had enough (our thanks goes out to the lovely people at Corona for helping us get through) he did something that actually did impress us by balancing golf clubs and balls in various positions and the setting the sculpture on chin to balance, yet again. Pretty impressive even if I left wondering why on Earth he would be requested for a command performance from the Queen herself.
So yes, Buffalo stampede. I'm not kidding when I tell you we LITERALLY squealed like children. It was the start to an amazing evening full of baby pig races, ostrich rides, chicken chasing and yes, horses being held. All while we scarfed down a full chicken, ham-hock, corn, biscuit and two free beers (even if they were Bud Light).
I left that arena with a new found respect for the working actor. Doing what you gotta do to get the job done (riding an ostrich) and make ends meet. I actually had the thought, "yeah... I'd totally work here if I lived in Orlando" because... WHY NOT. It sure as shit beats sitting at this computer 30 hours a week bored to bits.
And where did that vary from the fake enthusiasm Disney has to offer? Well, I guess it really didn't. Except it really did look like those people were having fun out there even if, at times, they looked like complete fools (riding an ostrich).
I also spent $30 on a commemorative photograph. Now who's the fool. NOW WHO'S THE FOOL, I SAY!?!
In the end, the South won, but in the words of the on-screen Dolly Parton (you didn't actually think she'd BE there, did you?) "we are not North and South, East and West but one nation, united! So stop being racist assholes, South!" (I shouldn't use quotes when I really can't remember what was exactly said.)
Pictures coming soon!
Have a lovely day you lovely people!