The continuing diaries of an Englishman abroad visiting such exotic places as Spain, USA, Malta and heaven knows where. Tagging along are his wife Pauline and daughter Emma.

Everything you are about to read is based on true events and real people. It may have been embellished beyond recognition for a cheap laugh but everything happened to a greater or lesser degree. Apart from the bits I made up. OK, and apart from the jokes. And apart from the fantasy sequences. But all the characters are real, believe me.


Exciting isn't it?


Friday, 13 January 2012

USA 1998 - Day 11


Now I'm not a prejudiced man but.....

Spent the morning by the hotel pool before leaving later for EPCOT and I've just noticed five American families have just turned up. They've arrived by the pool after obviously spending last night drinking and having a good time together.

The men are very loud and talking to each other as if they're all standing in a separate State.

One of them has arrived with a huge cooler box stacked with cold beer and there's lots of laughing, high fives and playful punching of shoulders, and that's just the women.

As each family member arrives, they all say to them, "Hi, how ya doin'?".

Nobody says anything else for all of 15 minutes while they all congregate together.

"Hi, how ya doin'?", "Hi, how ya doin?", Hi, how ya doin?", "Hi, how ya doin?"

After the fifteenth "Hi, how ya doin?" I couldn't stand it any longer.

I climbed onto the diving board and shouted, "Shut the bloody fuck up you cretinous shitters. Jesus Christ, what's up with you people?"

Well I would have done if I'd thought of it at the time.......and if there'd been a diving board.......

And another thing, this country doesn't seem to have lavatories. The word toilet and lavatory has been eradicated from all written and verbal communication. All public toilets are called restrooms and even the coaches have restroom facilities.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but a restroom is somewhere you go to have a quick lie down or just go for a "rest" isn't it? Not somewhere you go for a pee I would have thought. That's what toilets are for. I refused to use the restrooms in case I was having a lie down and some ignorant Yank came in and peed all over me.

By the way, The Beadles seem to be a very popular group over here.

I bought a couple of cans of beer in a shop today. The lady serving me said,

"That'll be 5 dollars 89 sir. Thank you sir. Enjoy your beer."

Well now looky here young lady I thought to myself, how do you know I'm buying this beer to drink myself? I might be buying it for a friend in which case I certainly wouldn't enjoy my beer but somebody else would. It's a bit presumptuous to say the least isn't it?

While all this was whirring through my mind I heard myself say, "Thanks and the same to you". Thanks and the same to you? What the hell was I talking about, I thought. I've just, in effect, told this woman to enjoy her beer too and she hasn't even got any. I was just about to say that I didn't actually mean "and the same to you" when I realised it was pointless as these people don't listen to a word you say anyway. I'm getting to be a nervous wreck every time I have to go into a shop and get served with something, I'm never sure what's going to happen with all this social chit chat that goes on, I can't cope with it. Why can't they just serve you and shut up?
The man behind me had bought himself a sharp stick and was poking himself in the eye with it. The lady serving said, "That'll be 5 dollars 89 sir. Thank you sir. Enjoy your poke in the eye with a sharp stick."

I went back the next day and a woman in front of me had bought a whole week's worth of groceries. It took over an hour before I got served while the shop assistant told her to enjoy every individual item in her shopping trolley.

The hotel has a rather sophisticated karaoke machine and every night, yes you heard, every night.......every bloody night is a bloody karaoke night. This wouldn't be so bad if you didn't have to listen to it but it's set up in an open arena of the hotel which also houses the restaurant so if you're having an evening meal you can't get away from it.

It never ceases to amaze me how there never seems to be any shortage of American idiots willing to stand up, cold sober, and absolutely murder a song.

Why they should think they have such good voices that we all want to hear them I'll never know.

Emma and I play 'Guess the song they're singing'.

We've never been right yet.

Anyone would think it was bloody Las Vegas the way some of the audience applaud the crap coming out of these people's mouths, but then again the Americans seem easily impressed with most things.

People in lifts talk to you. They talk crap but they talk to you.
"Oh I see you've pressed for three. That's the floor above the one I'm going to", is a good example.

"Had a good day today? Sure was a good one weren't it?", is another.

Or to Emma, "You havin' a good time? Been to see Mickey yet?", and before she can answer, it's their floor and they're gone.

And another thing, Americans can't stop talking to each other. Total strangers talk to each other all the time. The first thing they always say on meeting is "Where y'all from?" They also tend to say "Awllriiight" quite a lot, along with sudden loud whoops and cheers in the middle of conversations. Frightens the life out of you if you're not prepared for it.

Well we eventually got to EPCOT and found that this particular place is split into two distinct halves. One part consists of rides, attractions, etc. while the other part is given over to recreating different countries of the world.

Remember though that all the countries are the American's idea of how that country should be. It's a good idea really. It gives you the chance to eat and drink the country's national food and beverages (even I'm saying beverage now) and attempts to recreate some of the country's cultural highlights. Some countries work better than others but I doubt if any native of any of the countries would say that they've got it right.

Take the United Kingdom for example.

There we came across the inevitable pub   the Rose and Crown, staffed by a mixture of American and Scottish barmen. Inside, sitting in a corner, was a woman dressed as a Pearly Queen playing an electric piano and singing all the old music hall and cockney songs.

It was terrible.

Just across the road was a 'typical London street' with a thatched cottage, the thatch was made out of plastic by the way, and next door was the frontage of the Tower of London. (Some Americans were actually taking photographs for heaven's sake).

All the shops were staffed by girls dressed in a sort of mix between country girl and serving wench. I couldn't wait to move on but not before I'd bought a pint of Guinness, a half of lager and an orange juice from the Rose and Crown for the equivalent of seven pounds.

The Guinness wasn't at all bad.

Televisions are everywhere. All over the hotel foyer, the hotel landings, the bars and even in all the shops. TV is King and everyone seems to know the names of all the Disney characters that ever appeared in every film, and these people are the adults.

If they see a Disney character in one of the parks it's just like they've suddenly seen God. The adults are overcome with excitement and emotion more than the kids.

"Gee, Charlene, look over there honey. It's Aladdin and Jasmine. Quick get the camera."

They honestly think they're real I'm sure.

Most of the kids, including Emma, spend a lot of time collecting the autographs of as many Disney characters as possible. Some of the signatures are good, some are not so good. It's not easy trying to write in an autograph book while dressed in a large furry outfit with just a small slit to look out of, carefully camouflaged somewhere on your body but usually as far away from the position of your eyes as possible.

Emma saw Friar Tuck and queued for his autograph.

She showed it to me afterwards and all it said was FRIAR TUCK printed in capital letters.

What sort of an autograph is that?

I had a good mind to shout in his slit, "Come on, make an effort. Do some joined up writing at least!"
It was soon after I'd upset Friar Tuck that I shook hands with Pluto and do you know? For that swift couple of seconds I'd swear he was real. He was. He wasn't some sweaty low paid misfit of society in a furry suit, it was Pluto I tell you   it really was.

In addition to the Disney non human characters dressed in their cuddly costumes you also have people dressed up as the human characters in the Disney films. People like Aladdin, Jasmine, Cinderella etc. The human characters say things like, "Hi there and how are you today? Hi there, and how are you today? Hi there, and how are you today?"

The animal characters mustn't talk, they don't say a word and are totally mute apart from the odd occasion when you might hear one of them muttering,

"Jesus Christ how much longer in this damn outfit? “

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