The Happiest Place on Earth

Earlier this week I spent Monday and Tuesday night at a motel (not a hotel, but a motel with parking right in front of your door, which is a big deal if you have car) at he very entrance to Disneyland...in Anaheim. I'm not sure what level of mischief this should tell me about the guys I was interviewing with. This motel was built sometime in the 60's, was apparently bought by Best Western, and is living out it's existence as a home base for Disneyland pilgrims.

When I checked in, they assigned a room..109. When I tried the door, the key would not work. So I pulled my suitcase and backpack back to the lobby and told them the key was not working.
"Oh yes, 109, we can't seem to get it fixed. We will give you 209." They were disappointed that I did not exhibit the appreciation that was warranted by this decision.

So I thumped my suitcase up a flight of stairs, entered the room and was hit by a heatwave. After the last guest they decided to save a few coins and not turn on the air conditioner. So after several futile moments looking for the wall thermostat, I looked up and spied a window unit..stuck high in the wall above the microwave/vanity/coffee service. Okay, interesting, haven't used a window unit in a while. Turned the beast on and it sounded like a cat being forced through a meat grinder. I tried a slower speed..smaller cat. So I called the front desk,
"Hi, this is Don in room 209, would you send up the maintenance guy, this air conditioner sounds like an airplane taking off."
"No problem, just few minutes."

In 10 minutes the maintenance guy showed up, fiddled with the controls and turned to me and said, "No good." No kidding Sherlock. "We go find another room." He calls the front desk, has a non-English conversation for a few minutes, then motions me to follow him. So I thumped my suitcase back down the stairs back to room, yes, 109. He waited for the guy to bring him a key. I mentioned that this room was a problem, the keys don't work. He gave me that sly, smug, s***-eating grin and worked the key into the slot, pulled the door towards himself then shoved inward. Worked like a charm. He needs to inform the front desk about the code, but apparently this was a territorial battle that my conflict management skills weren't going to solve.

Got into the room, turned on the window unit and it sounded like someone mincing mice. I can live with this, maybe my snoring would muffle the A/C sound. Walked to dinner, had a nice little meal, walked back, dead on my feet, long day. Turned in around 9PM and just as I was dozing off heard what sounded like a small child being dumped out of a bed upstairs. You have got to be kidding me. Who brings their kids to Disneyland to slam them around in a hotel room? I got up, pulled on my slacks, shouldered my way into my sport shirt, opened the door and realized that the sounds were the fireworks display for Disneyland. Lots of folks on the catwalks oohing and ahhing over the fireworks. You have got to be kidding me. Good grief, I'm going to bed.

Next morning, up at 4AM, worked for a bit, then headed for the fitness center. 6AM on the nose..key wouldn't work, deep sigh, walked to the lobby. The security guy has to unlock, called him, 20 minutes later the door was open. I have no idea how long that fitness has been there, but it was pristine. The machines were brand new, it didn't even smell like a fitness center. I wondered if I was the first guy to use it.
On the way back to the room, I decided to detour through the breakfast area..mistake. It was like viewing feeding time at the day-care center. Cereal and milk flying everywhere, guys looking at the kids like they were trying to figure out what species they were, and how did they end up here. I was the only one in there with long pants. Sorry, I can't do this. I need a nice quiet cup of coffee, a well-toasted bagel, and a news paper. This was noisy and chaotic and messy, I'm out.

During the day I was reporting all this to my bride and she exclaimed in a very exasperated tone, "But you are at the Happiest Place On Earth! Go to Downtown Disney!"

So that evening I went to Downtown Disney, settled at small corner table at a restaurant and watched the fireworks display. While it did little to change my opinion about the "happiest" at least the fireworks were pretty, the people-watching was above standard, and it made me happy that I was going home the next day. The happiest place on earth for me is with my bride, not in the midst of the most frenetic, family violence inducing place in north America.

I have decided that business and vacation do not mix. When I travel with family I am good with noise and confusion and chaos. When I travel on business I like efficiency, quiet, and order. The happiest place for me is airline connections on time, customers that are reasonable, and good coffee. Goofy, and Mickey need to stay the heck away from me.

Oh, and the motel Internet service didn't work..great.

Godspeed, when I got home I was asked, once again, just how old was I?
Don