My apologies for the recent Hall Pass hiatus, but, as you know, I have a job now. And, since I haven’t inked a book deal or won $250,000+ in a poker tourney yet, I have to often put the paying job first on the priority list.
Sad, I know.
Before getting back into the full swing of all things Hall Pass later this week, I feel I must (with all due respect to Peter King) utilize this post to tell you a little about the business travel in the past week that caused my absence from The Hall Pass.
Last week, I attended a major IT conference held at Walt Disney World in Orlando, FL. Now, I actually do think Disney is a pretty cool place and look forward to taking my kids there many, MANY years from now. However, let me be the first to tell you that being stuck at Disney for solely a business trip is super-suck-a-fragilistic-get-me-the-hell-out-of here-a-docious.
For starters, there are just way too many people at Disney, and most of them are kids. Now, I love kids, but, again, when engaged in business travel, I don’t want them seated near me on the plane, I don’t want them screaming at me on the airport shuttles, and I certainly don’t want to smell the ones who conveniently have “accidents” in the restaurant where I am eating breakfast.
Second, the weather is just awful in Orlando. I know some may like the heat and humidity, but any place that has weather that could be a setting on a sauna or steam room is not a place where I want to spend my time.
And now the personal highlight of my trip – my accommodations. For reasons beyond my control, I was forced to stay at one of the outlying, budget Disney resorts, which I affectionately referred to as “Ghetto Disney” or “Disney: South Central.”
I definitely understand the need for budget accommodations at Disney – given the fact that a can of soda and a candy bar cost about $22.50, I can only begin to imagine just how expensive a week at Disney would be for a family of four. But, again, when I am traveling for business, there is no question about it: I am a snob.
For air travel, I want to be upgraded on every flight segment. I want to board the plane first and get off the plane first. If I have to check bags, I want mine to be the first off the baggage claim carousel. I want my beverages refilled the moment the glass is half-empty. And I don’t want a baby sitting next to me, screaming at the top of his lungs that he needs to "go potty."
For car rentals, I want my name in lights at the rental car agency and I want the car already started, with the air-conditioning running, upon my arrival. I do not want to have to refill the gas before I return to the airport. And I don’t want to ever wait in line when I return the car.
For hotels, I want to check-in in the preferred line. I want a comfortable bed. I want the blanket or comforter to have clean sheets on both sides of it so I am not completely immersing myself in germs each night. I want room service and I want the food to be edible. I want good cable television (ESPN, TNT, TBS, all major networks, at least one premium movie channel such as HBO, and the ability to order porn in case of emergency).
But, most importantly, I want a clean room - which brings us back to my palace at “Ghetto Disney,” a room that can only be described as “Mold-errrifffic!!!”
I mean, this hotel room was nasty. It was one of those rooms where you walk in and you know that you are going to catch a cold or the flu before you leave. I actually called my wife to tell her that there was a better than 50% chance that the only souvenir I’d return home with was a wicked case of Legionnaire’s Disease.
The bedspreads were nasty. There was just one sheet and one of those thin, rough blankets on the bed (that hadn’t been washed in months, I am certain). The floors were disgusting – I am almost positive the floor and carpets were a completely different color when they were new.
Basically, if you were a mold spore or a black light, you would love this place. But, as a road-weary business traveler, I wanted to cry.
In an effort to pass the time during my first night in the ghetto, I decided to watch some television. I can honestly say that, in a million years, I never would have thought that I’d be bummed about a television lineup that included four ESPN channels. However, given that this was a Disney resort, we only received the major networks and Disney channels (which included the ESPN channels).
For the record, though, the ESPN channels that night were featuring a SportsCenter episode on ESPN which I had already seen, NASCAR on ESPN2 which I wouldn’t watch, the same 30-minute segment on ESPN News which I had also already seen, and an episode of “Cheap Seats” on ESPN Classic, which I watched part of before becoming bored. Thus, I was forced to check out the remaining channels:
There was Disney 1, Disney 2, Radio Disney, Disney: Top Seven “Must See” Attractions and Disney Gone Wild (ok, I made that one up). Basically, every channel featured a cartoon, someone singing “It’s a Small World” or someone with an abnormally-large smile telling you something was “magical” or another thing was “enchanting.” It was enough to make you want to kill someone.
Seriously, after spending four days in the Magical Kingdom, I’d go to bed at night with that frickin’ “It’s a Small World” song in my head. Only, because I was sleeping in virtual petri dish, the words to the song kept changing in my head:
It’s a world of germs,
It’s a world of mold.
It’s a world of flu’s,
And a world of colds.
So many germs that we share,
That it’s time we’re aware,
We’re all pretty much fucked after all.
Not exactly the Disney spirit, I know.
Despite the quality of the room itself, I still expected a high level of customer service, given that it was a Disney Resort. Here, however, is an example of the customer service I received:
I ordered a pizza one night for dinner. The pizza seemed to represent a core tenet of Disney dining experiences: "The food may be terrible, but we make up for it in raw tonnage. I ate one piece of it and then called the front desk to have housekeeping come pick up the trash, which included the leftover pizza.
Note: This was a “condo-style” resort, so my door actually opened into an outdoor courtyard. Thus, the pizza would be sitting outside for an entire host of animals to ravage, including skunks, which were rumored to be roaming the resort grounds at night.
Here’s how the phone call went:
Front Desk: It’s a magical night at Ghetto Disney. This is Melanie, how can I make your night more magical?
Note: It took every ounce of restraint in my body in crafting a response to that question…
Me: Hi, this is Todd in room 9043. I have trash from the dinner I ordered, including half of the pizza that I need someone to pick up from outside my door.
Melanie: Umm…sir, we don’t pick up trash until the morning. You really need to leave it in your room for the night.
Me (in disbelief): You have got to be kidding me. I have stayed in hotels all over the world and not one has ever made me horde my trash for the night. Please have someone pick the trash up immediately.
Melanie: We’ll try to get someone there within the hour.
Me: Hey, do what you gotta do – but, this pizza is going outside as soon as I hang up this phone.
Melanie: Ok, sir. Have a wonderful evening.
After hanging up, I finally realized that the Disney management and staff thought they could simply get away with anything as long as they remembered to use words like “magical,” “enchanting,” and “wonderful.”
No kidding – it was similar to how people think they can get away with typing anything in an instant message as long as they put a smiley face or “LOL” at the end of the sentence. You know what I am talking about:
Dmbss1904: I am going to have to cancel on our dinner plans tonight.
Loozer1856: Really?
Dmbss1904: Yeah, I’m sorry. You’re not mad are you?
Loozer1856: Whatever. You’re a jackass and I hope you rot in hell. (LOL)
Anyway, I digress.
On the morning of my fourth day at Ghetto Disney, I proceeded to the main lobby to check out. When it was my turn in line, I approached the checkout counter and was met with yet another enchanting greeting from Jennifer, the woman behind the counter.
“Good morning, sir! It’s a wonderful morning, isn’t it? How may I help you?” Jennifer asked, in a shrill tone reminiscent of the woman in Office Space who shrieks “Thank you for calling Initech. Please hold.” I told her I was checking out and she responded, “Oh, Mr. Bernstein, we’re so sorry to hear that you are leaving.”
I actually laughed out loud, and when she asked what was funny, I politely said “Let’s just say, I am ready to leave.” She finished checking me out of my room, told me to have a "magical" day, and I headed toward freedom.
However, before I reached the lobby exit, I stopped, thought for a moment, and then returned back to Jennifer's counter. I looked at Jennifer and poured half of my coffee on the floor. Horrified, Jenny exclaimed "Mr. Bernstein, what in the Wide World of Disney was that for????!!!!"
I solemnly looked at her and said, "Jenny...that was for my homeys on the inside."