Fucking hell! Okay, time for a rant. Pardon all of the bad language to follow:
Yesterday (Saturday), my best friend calls and says, “So we’re going to DisneyQuest, right?” Uh, sure…Wait, this was decided when? She says, “Remember? I asked you a few weeks ago because I have a coupon?” Okay, fair enough. I vaguely remember you mentioning this and that we’d make plans. “Oh, I thought we did that. Well, you wanna go?” Okay, Mr. Jeannie isn’t home yet. When he gets back, I’ll ask.
So Mr. Jeannie gets home, says that’s fine, and off we go. The group of four includes:
Me
Mr. Jeannie
My best friend (known here as “SuperBitch”)
Best friend’s sister (known here as “SB’s sister”)
Off we go. We arrive at 3:30 in the afternoon. At the ticket line, we’re told that they are filled to capacity, and if we buy a ticket now, we will be issued a “Fast Pass” to get in at 5:30. How this is “Fast” escapes me. So SuperBitch says, “Well, I guess we’ll have to buy them and come back.” So Mr. Jeannie and I (who were planning on a relaxing day at the movies until she called), say, “Well, do you want to just go somewhere else? Once we get in, we’ll only have 4 1/2 hours to do stuff.” SuperBitch says, “But we have a coupon.”
Well, golly, there’s no arguing with that kind of sound logic! Let’s do it! (okay, the conversation went longer, but this OP is already going to be lengthy).
We buy the tickets. The ticket window person says our passes will be good at 6:00. SuperBitch throws a fit. “Now we’ll only have 4 hours!” Oh, but 4 1/2 hours was okay! Sure! That makes sense!
So we go eat a small dinner. We come back at 5:45. I say, “Let’s just see if they’ll let us in.” SuperBitch says, “Gee, I don’t know…the Fast Pass says 6:00.” Yeah, because if we try to bypass the system, then the fucking Disney police will have us carted off for trying to outsmart them.
We get in at 5:45.
Now, the whole thing was a fucking nightmare. There was hardly anyone there (which caused us all to wonder how the place was considered “filled to capacity”). Yet the lines take for-fucking-ever because the workers (and I use that term loosely) can’t do their jobs right. At 8:30, SuperBitch has started planning our every moment. “Okay, so we have four rides and 90 minutes until they close. If each line takes approximately 30 minutes, then we’ll get to all rides by 10:00, which is when they close.” Mr. Jeannie and I see the faulty math, but we’re too tired to argue. We just keep nodding our heads.
The last ride is the virtual roller coaster. Mr. Jeannie, being the outstanding husband that he is, has consented to go on with me, even though roller coasters are not his thing. Within 10 seconds, he is sick, and we both hit the emergency “STOP” button that is available to us. The ride stops while we are HANGING UPSIDE DOWN, which does nothing to ease his discomfort. They flip us right side up, and the ride attendant comes to assist us (and I use the term “assist” loosely). Mr. Jeannie and I immediately begin to ask for a barf bag. The guy says something about there being a garbage can down the hall. Mr. Jeannie makes a bee-line for it, while I gather our things. Mr. Jeannie continues to ask for a barf bag, and they continue to show him the garbage can, until he vomits all over the floor, at which point, he is provided with a barf bag.
We walk right past SuperBitch and her sister (keep in mind that Mr. Jeannie has just puked and is now holding a barf bag that’s half full). I yell, “He’s sick. We need a bathroom. I’ll find you later!” Try to guess what she did:
(a) Ask if everything is okay
(b) Run after us to make sure Mr. Jeannie is okay
© Get on the fucking ride
That’s right folks. They got on the fucking ride! Fucking insensitive bitch! Goddamn it! He was puking right IN FRONT OF HER! What the fuck! At least stop and see if he’s okay, you fucking heartless BITCH!
So, after helping Mr. Jeannie get cleaned up (God bless the companion bathroom), we go to find SuperBitch and her sister so we can leave. SuperBitch is waiting in line with her sister to get their picture taken in one of those automated booths. See, along with our pass for the day, we get these “points” to be used on shit like that. So she says, “Well be down after we do this. Sure you don’t want your picture taken?”
Yes! Dear God, yes! Mr. Jeannie and I would love to have our picture taken right now! Thank you for asking, you kind, compassionate person!
So, we wait forever in the lobby, and finally SuperBitch and sister arrive.
We get to the parking garage where SuperBitch’s car is waiting. We get in and she notices that her interior light will not go off. Mr. Jeannie is feeling like shit and says, “Just unscrew the lightbulb and let’s go.” SuperBitch says, “No, well call my dad.” She calls. He’s not home. She says, “There’s nothing in the owner’s manual. Maybe I should call the 800 number.”
At this point, I wanted to fucking strangle her. I said, “And do what? Wait on hold for an hour to have them say they would have to have you bring it in?” Even SB’s sister is saying, “Just unscrew the bulb and let’s go.”
So finally, after 25 minutes of this bullshit, she consents to let Mr. Jeannie take out the bulb. We go to leave, and they ask her for more money because we had already paid in the lobby, but we had stayed in the garage almost a 1/2 hour longer. SuperBitch starts throwing a hissy fit, with her voice getting so high that only dogs can hear her. I shout at the guy from the back seat, “We had car trouble!” The guy lets us go.
It takes her half an hour to find the fucking expressway, even though we’re giving directions. We finally get to her house, where she realizes, “Oh no! I didn’t have my headlights on the whole way home!”
Ohh, how silly of you! Hee hee hee! (Fucking bitch!)
Mr. Jeannie and I get in our car and drive home, both of us spending the whole ride talking about what a fucking bitch she can be.
She’s not usually like that, which is what made the whole thing seem even worse than it was. And I’m sorry for the long post, and I didn’t even tell all of the details, but I am really fucking pissed off right now.
Mr. Jeannie is okay, by the way. He just needed to get a good night’s sleep.