![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Disney part 2
Oct. 19th, 2006 03:39 pmOur Disneyland vacation, in a few more photographs … I was fully expecting to write a few paragraphs, but I’ve been too busy this week and the moment has passed.
As Jim (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
poohbearjim), Tim (bluedevilsf) and I rested on a bench, waiting for our Saturday lunch table at the Blue Bayou to be ready, Jack (qbear) and Ray (profkampf) sat on some nearby stairs, and were soon surrounded by a bunch of southern California rock ‘n’ roll chicks – a bride (second from left) and her bridesmaids, also waiting for their table, and visiting the park as a pre-wedding bachelorette outing. Jim and I rolled our eyes, but Jack and Ray struck up conversations and said they were much nicer than you’d expect tattooed LA babes to be.
Because this was a free “placate-him-so-he-won’t-sue-us” trip, Disney tried its best to keep me happy. Friday night we arrived back at the hotel to find two Mickey Mouse cookies, and glasses of milk in a champagne bucket. We ate most of the cookies and then went off into the parks on Saturday, only to find when we returned to the room that the maid had thrown out the remainder of the cookies. I also had a phone message from Disney’s Guest Relations, asking if there was anything they could do to make our stay nicer. Naturally, I called them right up and said we wanted replacement cookies. We kept waiting for them to be delivered all Sunday, and it became a running joke among all of us (“WHERE ARE OUR FRIGGIN' COOKIES?”) but the replacements didn’t come in until Sunday evening, after Ray and Jim had already left. Jack and I happily enjoyed them for breakfast on Monday, but it wasn’t worth our while to scrape the chocolate “Grand Californian Hotel” off the plate.
After a long and enjoyable weekend at Disneyland, and an enjoyable few days at Palm Springs before that, I rest in the lobby before checking out of the hotel. Note my ridiculous crested Disney hoodie, which most everyone who has seen me in has asked, “Did they give that to you?” No, we had to pay for it -- the cheap bastards!
And so ends Disney’s debt to me. I’ve already written my thank-you letter to my Guest Relations liaison, telling him what a pleasant, enjoyable, fun-filled stay we had. He wrote back to say that he hoped we would return next year, and we very well might do that.
As Jim (
poohbearjim), Tim (bluedevilsf) and I rested on a bench, waiting for our Saturday lunch table at the Blue Bayou to be ready, Jack (qbear) and Ray (profkampf) sat on some nearby stairs, and were soon surrounded by a bunch of southern California rock ‘n’ roll chicks – a bride (second from left) and her bridesmaids, also waiting for their table, and visiting the park as a pre-wedding bachelorette outing. Jim and I rolled our eyes, but Jack and Ray struck up conversations and said they were much nicer than you’d expect tattooed LA babes to be.Because this was a free “placate-him-so-he-won’t-sue-us” trip, Disney tried its best to keep me happy. Friday night we arrived back at the hotel to find two Mickey Mouse cookies, and glasses of milk in a champagne bucket. We ate most of the cookies and then went off into the parks on Saturday, only to find when we returned to the room that the maid had thrown out the remainder of the cookies. I also had a phone message from Disney’s Guest Relations, asking if there was anything they could do to make our stay nicer. Naturally, I called them right up and said we wanted replacement cookies. We kept waiting for them to be delivered all Sunday, and it became a running joke among all of us (“WHERE ARE OUR FRIGGIN' COOKIES?”) but the replacements didn’t come in until Sunday evening, after Ray and Jim had already left. Jack and I happily enjoyed them for breakfast on Monday, but it wasn’t worth our while to scrape the chocolate “Grand Californian Hotel” off the plate.
After a long and enjoyable weekend at Disneyland, and an enjoyable few days at Palm Springs before that, I rest in the lobby before checking out of the hotel. Note my ridiculous crested Disney hoodie, which most everyone who has seen me in has asked, “Did they give that to you?” No, we had to pay for it -- the cheap bastards!
And so ends Disney’s debt to me. I’ve already written my thank-you letter to my Guest Relations liaison, telling him what a pleasant, enjoyable, fun-filled stay we had. He wrote back to say that he hoped we would return next year, and we very well might do that.
