Seeing that there was no help coming from the proud parents, I continued on my way until Brit grabbed me again to force some sense into me. Now I didn’t like her. I really didn’t like her. I decided it was okay to not like this kid because I wouldn’t have liked her even if I was the most merciful of kids myself. I sent a thank you note to God for sending her to someone else.
I tried to walk away but this kid couldn’t stop herself. She kept coming at me. I repressed a primal impulse to shove her back and instead, very deliberately, stepped on a line. Take that Britney! I dangled my flipflopped foot over another line, deliberating at the trauma this step might cause, then stomped on it––smushing my foot into that line as though stomping out Britney’s demons. I smiled sweetly at the appalled little sweetheart and pounded my way line after line into the awaiting astro blaster.
After seven more rides, I walked some more. A slow purposeless walk that led me out of the park and back to my hotel.
I decided as I returned to the plastic plants thriving in the artificial light and air of the lobby, that I wasn’t so impressed with Disneyland. It was fine. The fact that I hadn’t invested my year’s vacation savings or future memories in its magical grounds perhaps allowed me to appreciate it for just what it was––a nice pricey walk in the park.
