PlunderFest2005Day9

logo by annie

Walt Disney World

"PlunderFest 3"

Orlando, Florida

October 16-24, 2005

Ah, the day of leaving – how sad! It was compounded by the raging Wilma. I noticed a leaflet that had been placed on the work table, probably the night before while I was out Moosing with Debbie and the gang. It talked about how Disney was proceeding with the hurricane. The internet connection was up, and I surfed around looking for news of the expected force and duration. I was not convinced that it would be over by my 1:00 PM checkout time, so I called down to the front desk. After being on hold for a good long while (understandable), I was told that I did NOT have any dispensation, that checkout was still expected of all resort guests by 11:00 am.

I called Bell Services, to arrange for luggage pickup. I wanted to them to take it to the French Quarter luggage room, because that’s where the car was picking up Trixy and Kevin, and we didn’t want the messiness of asking the driver to make two stops. I never got that far with the Bell Services lady. She said that only two bell dudes had shown up for the ENTIRE resort (both Riverside and French Quarter). She said that she would not be sending them out for a while, because the back end of the storm was expected to rage on.

So I said to her, “hey wait a minute – if Disney won’t send out their employees into this, how do they expect to eject their Guests into this?”. She quite agreed with me, without really agreeing. Sometimes, when you listen to a CM hand you the corporate line, you have to put on your “I may be a CM, but I’m also human, dammit” translator headphones. I got the message loud and clear – stay in your room.

I called back at the front desk and was a bit more firm with the CM I got there. No problem – 3:00 PM checkout is fine.

In between all of this, I must have spoken to Trixy half a dozen times. I told her I’d gotten a voice mail from resort services, indicating that there would be NO maid service that day – yet, there was a MouseKeeper hovering outside my door, who kept knocking, wanting to know what time I was leaving. What part of “not until 3:00 PM” did she not understand?

During some of the Trixy conversations, I gathered information about the fates of the other Plunderheads. Annie and Kathi were taking Magical Express back to the airport, but Disney decided to yank all the busses off the roads and give the guests cab vouchers. When the cab got to the airport, the cabbie refused to take the voucher and demanded cash - $50! Naturally, Annie was pissed off, and I suspect Disney heard about how much her “free” Magical Express reservation ended up costing her.

Meanwhile, Paul and Darcie got to the airport, only to find that Delta had cancelled ALL their flights in and out of MCO, and they were stranded. Paul had just started a new job, and HAD to be back at work the next day.

Upon being informed, the Waders (Kerry and Georgia) hopped in their car and rescued Paul and Darcie from MCO. They were driven up to Tallahassee (the Waders were bound for Gulf Shores), where Paul and Darcie were able to get a flight home.

The storm raged, and I connected to work and did some stuff. At some point, it stopped, and Trixy called to say that Epcot was open, and she and Kevin were going to drop off their luggage and head over there for a few more hours. By this time, I was entrenched in work, and so I called Bell Services to get my bags, retaining only the rolling computer bag. I tipped the bell dude handsomely to take the bags to the French Quarter, which he was happy to do. I also changed my clothing, since it had abruptly gone from hotter ‘n the hinges of Hell to brrrr, crisp after Wilma blew through. I had Mickey sweat pants and a Mickey fleece to put on, and thankfully, my sneakers had finally dried out.

At the appropriate time, I shut down the computer, packed up, and headed toward the food court for a late lunch, dragging the rolling laptop bag with me. It was COLD outside – I could not believe the disparity in temperature. Inside of 12 short days (seemed like I’d been away from home FOREVER), my Long Island blood had been replaced with that of a Floridian. I visited the cash machine in the lobby to make sure I had enough to give to Trixy for the limo driver, and found a bench in the sun outside the POFQ lobby, where I could sit and write down my thoughts, and wait for them to get back from Epcot.

As I trudged my way along the paths from Riverside to the French quarter, I trod upon fresh pine needles and bits of cedar, filling the crisp air with their foresty fragrance every time I stepped on them. Great clumps of Spanish moss and air plants had been blown out of their host trees, and lay trapped up against curbs. I wanted to scoop up all the air plants and rescue them. There was a decided lack of anoles along the paths – those little lizards that are so prevalent during the heat of the day had vanished, hunkering down against the cold in their little anole places, wherever it is that anoles make their little places. Anole holes? Dunno!

Sitting on the bench outside POFQ writing this, I start to think there must be a convention of Caucasian people who have adopted Asian babies, because I kept seeing lots of these blended families going in and out of the hotels and parks over the past few days. Some seemed to be single parents, both male and female.

Trixy and Kevin soon returned from Epcot, and decided that there was still time to tour and photograph the resort a bit more before changing into their northern attire for the journey home. The resort was quiet and empty-ish. A few people were checking in, with their whole vacation still before them, as I sat waiting for Quicksilver Limousine to come along and end mine.

Soon the limo arrived, and we all boarded for the journey to MCO. I bid adieu to Trixy and Kevin after we checked our luggage, and then I went outside for the final pre-flight smoke before going through security with my pain in the ass double laptop case. Boy, I was glad I’d shipped the shells and the Christmas gifts – it would have been tragic to have to handle those as well as the laptops through security!

Wilma pushed my plane up the coast, and we got to Long Island a full half hour earlier than scheduled. It was a typical fall trip – leave in the rain, come home in the rain. My amulet/talisman was still hanging from the rear view mirror, and I got the car loaded and drove home.

“Home” – a relative term (pun intended). I believe the next time I visit Florida, I might be calling a different house “home”, but Chez Bro will always have a special “home” status for me. Collectively, I’ve lived there 8 years of my life, give or take a few months. Six years in the 80s/90s, and two years this time around. After I’ve moved, I suspect that all visits north will be spent crashing at Chez Bro.

I hope the time goes quickly – it’s dark, dreary, and REALLY cold here on Long Island. I can’t wait to be a Florida resident!