Friday, April 16, 2010
Orlando Florida, what can you say? My lungs feel like a moist towelette. I think my room is temperature controlled by a swamp cooler and gigantic Italian armpit. You cannot purchase chewing gum anywhere in the Disney World properties. It’s banned, like a steak sandwich in India. I had two beers in make shift bar that was in a hallway next to a really loud fountain and an unassuming triangle.
There are a lot of people wondering the halls, most of them are on their phone or reading a text message. This leads to an interesting phenomena; no one is looking where they are walking. I have witnessed several collisions with unsuspecting structure baring pylons and hotel staff. We had a rogue squirrel run into the hotel and attempted to enter one of our highly sensitive meetings; fortunately for us our security team (which are ex-secret serviceman) were able to corner the squirrel and force him back outside.
When scheduling a shuttle to for transportation to the airport (on the web) there is a line for gratuity. So, they want you to tip before you even get “serviced”. What is that all about? Speaking of awesome, we paid $3200 for an internet line in our meeting room with speeds that peak about 512Kb, that’s less than half the speed of the slowest DSL service. It took 12 seconds for that Google page to show up. It cost $8 dollars to use the gym that looks more like a Salvation Army break room. That's $8 per visit.
They have a lifeguard that’s armed with a megaphone, she really likes using the siren and yelling at people who look like they’re having too much fun. She is sitting on a highchair about 5 feet above the water and overlooks a knee deep pool that’s about 15 feet long. It looks completely ridiculous, because it is.
Disney employes “undercover” trash collectors. They look like tourist but carry a hidden trash bag, whenever there is paper or something unmentionable on the ground they pick it up at speeds far too fast for modern equipment to calculate. It’s equally impressive as it is disturbing. I still have three more days of this socialist menopause.
Until next time.