Disney 1986

Disney 1986

Age: Eleven

           

            I’ve always had an uneasy feeling about flying. Being trapped in an airbus brings out my claustrophobia, creating an elevated heart rate and an upset stomach. Today, however, was different. I still had the heart rate and stomach issue, but they were overshadowed by my state of excitement. We were on our way to Disney World!

Our group consisted of Dig’s family, Leah’s family, Ann’s family, my family and some of our extended families. It was going to be the greatest neighborhood vacation ever!

The bulk of the travelers decided to fly down to Orlando and Ann’s family opted for a cross-country road trip. They were avid campers and this vacation would be no different. Regardless of transportation choice, we were all going to be in Disney World together, having the best time imaginable.

            And imagine we did. The months before the trip were spent buying clothes, saving allowance and daydreaming. What could be better than Disney World with all of one’s best friends? Leah’s brother went so far as to design a sweatshirt for the trip. Luckily his graphics class was doing a screen printing project so he designed a shirt that read “Florida 1986” on it. He and Leah won art contests for a reason. They were extremely creative people.

            My sister Shell was in fourth grade and was sporting an interesting haircut, to say the least. My lovely mother decided save some money so she took her to a beauty school for a hair cut and a perm. The perm ended up being a disaster. It fried her long locks and left her with a “Screech” from Saved By the Bell haircut. And I’m not sure why Dig had the same hairstyle, but he did, and the pictures are priceless.

            Ann’s brother Dave, who was in fifth grade, is also frozen in time by photographs with his bowl hair cut. His bangs were so short it seemed an impossible task to get the scissors to cut them that length and that straight.

            I stuck with the standard feathered look of the time. I was against any volume to my hair after a permanent I had in fourth grade had taken my beautiful locks. Note to self: Stay away from shady beauty schools. The results could scar you for life.

            The pictures are so fun to look at now because I know how much planning went into our awful style choices. We actually spent hours, days even, only to look like a tacky tourist party.

            With our outfits and style in check, we headed off to the airport to begin our fantastic journey.

            I still remember the excitement we all felt as we boarded the airplane. For many, it was the first time flying. For my family, it was our second, but the excitement was still there.

            Soon the plane began to move toward the runway and in minutes we were off the ground and heading to Florida. Dig’s dad found the take off so exciting that his words echoed in our head for the next seven hours. “That was so much fun, I would love to do it again!”

            Now call it bad luck, or maybe “be careful what you wish for,” because a few minutes after take off, the pilot came over the intercom and informed us that there was problem with the plane. We were to turn around to have it serviced and the time to fix the problem was indefinite.

            Everyone looked at Dig’s dad, secretly blaming him for his famous last words. Our excitement was temporarily deflated but the airline did give us each five dollars in McDonald’s vouchers. That generosity worked for a while but the next seven hours were painful. We waited and waited impatiently. Our poor parents.

            Meanwhile, Ann and Dave’s family were on the road with their own set of problems. Their dad had accidentally pumped diesel gas into their truck, forcing them to wait several hours for help. When they finally got back on the road, they were about as far behind as the air travelers.

After what seemed like an eternity in the Minneapolis International Airport, we finally boarded the plane and actually stayed in the air after our second take off. Thank goodness.

Three and a half hours later we landed in Florida with perma-grins plastered on every one of our faces. Grins that said, “You could steal all of my money right now and I would still keep this silly grin on my face.” Needless to say, we were thrilled to be on vacation.

Once we reached the hotel, Dig, Shell and I explored every nook of the place. Why I remember finding a cockroach in an old drink I can’t say, but it was out of the ordinary for us Minnesotans, so we found it interesting.

The trip actually took place twenty plus years ago so my recollection of events is pretty scrambled in my head. I know that we went to The Magic Kingdom, Epcot Center, Wet ‘n’ Wild, River Country and the Atlantic Ocean. Every place has it’s own little spot in my memory—good and bad. And the things I chose to remember are sometimes abstract, yet the highlights remain.

To begin with, traveling in a large group is not an easy task. Our large group decided to pick a common destination, then split up allowing everyone to go at their own pace. We unanimously chose The Magic Kingdom for our first outing. We were, after all, in the land of Disney.

Our poor luck with transportation continued though, when the monorail system broke down and left us trapped for a half an hour. We could actually see Cinderella’s castle, so it was quite torturous, but we did eventually arrive. And our spirits were surprisingly high. Nothing was going to bring us down.

We were finally there! And it was glorious. The streets were immaculate, the music was festive and the weather was beautiful. It lived up to every expectation our young minds could fathom.

Dig, Shell and I stuck together. I remember standing in lines reading cautionary signs. “Please keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times.” This was also written in Spanish and we thought we were so cool by attempting to recite the Spanish version. “Por favor…” Any Spanish speaker would have known we butchered their language after hearing us say, “Pour Fay vor.” Maybe it was the boredom of standing in line or maybe it was our interest in learning, but we read every sign on every ride and felt so cool that we could speak Spanish.

Ok. When I say rides, I mean anything that was slow and controlled. I was a big wimp, until seventh grade, when it came to roller coaster rides. I received a lot of ridicule for my fear and the fact that my younger sister was not afraid made things that much worse for me. But I stuck to my gut and sat on the sidelines as all of my friends chose to risk death.

      At Disney World, all of the kids and parents decided to brave a freakishly scary ride. All of the kids excluding me, that is. I remember crying, at age twelve, because my dad was on that ride and I thought he would fall off and die. For some reason, I was not as concerned about my sister or friends, just my dad. Luckily, he made it off the ride in one piece. Thank God. That was a close one!

Dream Day II

     The first hour flew by quickly and all four of us were ready for more tokens. We knocked on the manager’s door and he actually seemed surprised to see us so quickly. Really? We were eleven and twelve years old - it was our job to play games. We thanked him and headed back into the arcade. Next up, the crane game.

            I had never been very lucky with this game and I attributed that bad luck to my lack of practice. Well, with unlimited tokens, I became a crane wizard by the end of the day. I could pick up a small animal with my eyes closed. I remember winning handfuls of toys, taking them to the chaperones, only to run back to the machine for more.

            Tickets and toys were not the only items of our interest. We took breaks to rest and re-energize. The pizza and soda were just the right amount of grease and sugar to keep us going. Dig and I decided to play mini golf after lunch and my sister Shelly joined us.

            When we completed the round, we casually slipped Shell a few tokens and headed back to the skee ball machines. Our tickets were adding up but the top shelf items were still significantly out of reach.

            And then it happened. Somewhere in the fog of game playing, I finally reached my ticket goal. The excitement made my stomach turn as I ran to the ticket counter.

I handed over my tickets and patiently waited for the girl to count them. When she finally finished, I pointed to the stuffed animal of my choice. My whole face was beaming as she handed me the two foot, yellow, worm-like animal with legs and arms.

I felt so much pride in my prize. The animal was so cute with red shoes, a red nose and a smiling face. In my glory, I decided to take my winnings to the photo booth where I took a round of pictures featuring the two of us. Then I carried the pictures and my prize around with me as I started my new ticket stash.

            I realize that this sounds a little bit crazy, but I believe that my age and the circumstances of the day excuse my wacky behavior. Remember Charlie and the Chocolate factory? What kid wouldn’t go a little bonkers?

            At any rate, I loved that animal, but soon she became too much for me to lug around. I reluctantly forced myself back to the chaperone table and dropped her off. I knew that they would take good care of her, yet I did check on her from time to time. For one, I wanted to make sure she was okay and secondly, I just wanted to get another glimpse of my beautiful prize.

            I soon noticed that I was out of tokens and needed a refill. I hunted down Dig, Ann and Leah to see if they needed to fill their stash—and for reinforcement. The manager was starting to get quite annoyed by us and the amount of tokens four kids could spend.

I believe that the “free day” prize started to backfire on the staff at Circus Circus. They totally underestimated the amount of adrenaline eleven and twelve year olds could possess if given a “free day” at an arcade. We had so much energy that an eight a.m. to midnight stay was not only possible, it was likely.

The manager questioned us about sharing tokens and we smiled and shook our heads no. It’s not like we gave our siblings a million tokens, just a few really. Our parents were not too keen on us breaking the rules, so we had to keep it discrete.

            He grumbled something at us but filled our cups anyway. We probably seemed like greedy little monsters, but this was the prize awarded and we were not going to let it go to waste.

            I’d like to say that because I had the entire day to explore that I tried every game in the place but some of them did not interest me. I stayed away from shooting games, punching games and complicated driving games. I did shoot a few hoops, drive a few cars, ride a few horses and get in a couple round of Ms. Pacman, but I had my favorites. Maybe it was the ticket factor or that I played the game well - What ever it was, skee ball pulled me in. I could not get enough of it. The crane game was a close second.

            I ran into Ann, Leah and Dig throughout the day but we all abided by an unwritten rule. If you wanted to do something, do it. If someone wanted to come with you, great, if not, don’t be offended. This was a once in a lifetime prize and we all decided to make the best of it with no hard feelings. I’m not saying that we didn’t play games together or eat together, we just wanted the day to have no strings attached and be full of happiness. And our plan worked. We had a blast!

            Having said that, the last few hours we spent playing, were a little more stressful than the rest of the day. We were all exhausted and our parents were not too thrilled once the high school crowd flooded into the arcade.

            The day eventually came to an end and we were ready to head home. I am not exaggerating when I say that each of us went home with two garbage bags full of stuffed animals. The animals ranged from large to tiny. We each had one or two large animals, a few medium and countless small animals from the crane game.

            This day was so awesome! We could not have had more fun. And as we left the arcade with tired eyes and exhausted bodies, we radiated happiness. We were lucky and we knew it. We couldn’t ask for anything more.

Happy

Dream Day 1986

Age: Twelve

           

            My friend Leah’s talent for drawing began at a young age. The girl won prize after prize by entering countless art contests. I remember her winning a bike and a five foot stuffed bear for starters. But the prize I will never forget was the free day at Circus Circus, a Minnesota equivalent to Chuck E. Cheese’s.

            Leah showed up at my door, beaming with excitement. “I won the Circus Circus grand prize and I want to share it with you,” She said proudly. My ears perked up. Grand prize? I didn’t care what it was, I was in.

Prior to that moment I had only won a door prize for any of the contests I had ever entered. My biggest prize to date was a wallet, and I was eleven! What would I do with a wallet? Of course, I still remember winning it, so I must have been a little proud.

            Leah went on to explain her prize. She won a free day at Circus Circus and could bring along three friends to share the experience.

“Free day?” I questioned. “What is a free day?”

Well, a “free day” would start when the arcade opened and end when the arcade closed. We would be given all of the soda, pizza and tokens we wanted and were allowed to play all day long.

            “This can’t be true.” I said. “All the tokens we want, all we can eat and all we can drink?”

            “Yep,” she said. “And I have asked Ann and Dig to go as well.”

            Unbelievable! What an amazing prize! Circus Circus had video games, mini golf, skee ball and the crane game. We always had the best time there and that was with a token limit. Now we could spend all of the tokens we wanted all day long…Holy crap! Leah hit the jackpot!

            Our parents were all informed about Leah’s lucky prize, so they gathered together and decided on a day. They worked out a schedule so we would be chaperoned at all times. We were, after all, elementary school kids and needed the supervision. We actually didn’t care if our parents stayed all day long, we just wanted to play as many games as physically possible.

            I could not wait. My stomach had butterflies in it the entire week before. This was going to be so much fun!

            When the day finally arrived, we knocked at the arcade door at 8:00am sharp. The plan was to stay until midnight. Our parents agreed to the time frame, believing it impossible for us to last the entire sixteen hours.

            An older guy, most likely the manager, welcomed us and sat us down to explain the prize. We would get a cup full of tokens and could spend them on any machine in the entire place. Tokens could also be used for mini golf and the photo booth. And, the tickets earned from skee ball could be put toward stuffed animal prizes, big or small. Then he pointed to the door where we would go to fill up when we ran out of tokens.

            This was going to be great!!

            The pizza and soda were free all day, we just had to ask for it. The more he talked the more excited we became. He ended with “only the four of you are to receive the tokens, pizza and soda. You cannot share this prize with anyone else.” His face turned from pleasant to “the mom look.” No cheating.

When the manager stopped talking, he handed over our first cup of tokens and said, “Enjoy!” With a huge smile on each of our faces, we ran to the first video games we could find. It seemed like a dream. We could play every game in this arcade, for free!!

            Leah and Ann decided to hit up the crane game, but I really wanted to play skee ball. Dig followed me and we started bowling. The machine spit out ticket after ticket. I could not believe it. Every ball we threw seemed to be a winner. Soon, we organized our string of tickets and headed to the prize counter. In the past, the prize counter was filled with toys I would never win, but today the possibilities seemed endless.

            Dig and I took an inventory on each and every prize that interested us. Our list described the toy we wanted and the number of tickets needed to purchase said toy. As you would expect, the bigger the prize, the more tickets needed. We decided to go for the big prizes first and use our left over tickets on the smaller items. After all, we had all day.

Planet Hollywood 2

Then I saw a credit card receipt blow off one of my tables and start drifting down Kalakaua Avenue. I ran after it like a crazy nut. I needed proof of a tip to collect my money so that receipt was as good as cash. And the way this night was going, I needed every penny people were willing to give me.

After I caught up with the receipt, I headed back into server hell and absolutely…shut down. My manager was now trying to sort out the mess by asking me what kind of help I needed and instead of answering her, I stood and stared. I could not form the simplest thought. That crazy night had pushed me over the edge and I was at a loss.

Minutes later, I woke up from my trance and forced myself to somehow pull it together. I can’t say that I was fully focused but enough to get through this nutty nightmare. My managers and co-workers were scrambling to fix the situation that I chose not to handle as well as deal with their own work. I felt so badly for shutting down, but the craziness had pushed me over the edge.

I usually received high praise from customers for the service I provided, but not tonight. I had more complaints that evening than I had in my serving career. Ouch. The complaints were not just from customers either. My co-workers were so pissed off at me. The cooks had to redo a few orders on my account, the bartenders had to make some new drinks on my account, the servers working with me had to take on more tables than expected and my manager was disappointed with my loss of control.

I cleaned up my work area at the end of the night without looking at anyone. I was so embarrassed for my actions and did not know how to get out of the restaurant fast enough. When my side jobs were done, I changed my clothes and headed for the door.

On the way out, I hung my head as I walked from the employee workroom to the escalator. My head was apparently so low that I did not notice the group of managers sitting at a table staring at me. I finally looked up when I heard my name and saw them motion for me to join them. Man, as if this night were not bad enough, now I had to face my superiors. I sat down with my tail between my legs but also with a sense of relief that I was not waiting tables anymore.

The managers proceeded to tell me that shutting down when things get out of control was unacceptable. And they were absolutely right. The problems I dealt with that night were bad but fixable if I would have cooperated. While overwhelmed, I did stop and stare almost refusing help. It was not because I didn’t need it, I just couldn’t collect my thoughts fast enough and I did not know where to start.

I apologized for “freaking out” and said that I would do my best to never let this happen to me and everyone else again. They were glad to hear me acknowledge my issue and own my crappy behavior. But they were not finished with me. They told me that they were going to have to write me up in the Planet Hollywood log. Seriously? What does that even mean? Am I now labeled a serving criminal? I looked at them and said, “You realize that I am not going for server of the year here. I want to do my job well but everyone has their breaking point.” They laughed at the server of the year statement but said that I would still be written up and asked that this never happen again.

I felt like such a loser. Who gets written up for imploding? So I had an off night. Was that any reason to reprimand me and make me feel worse? I walked away looking at the floor, wondering if my scrambled brain remembered how to get me home.

 Most nights I was eager to get home and relax but tonight I was moving slowly and not anxious to get anywhere. I thought about how crazy things got during my shift. First, the rain, then the confusion with my tables and don’t forget running down the street after that receipt. How did I lose control? How does a girl just shut down when everything else is screaming by her? Were the events of the evening really that bad? Then, I started to feel even worse as I thought about my location. I live in Hawaii—The land of “no worries.” People don’t have problems here. It’s too perfect.

My parents happen to be visiting at that time, so I decided to stop by their hotel for a much needed hug. I called them from the lobby and my mom asked if everything was all right. I said yes but that I just wanted to talk. She could sense something in my voice, so she and my dad got out of their pajamas and quickly met me downstairs.

We sat in rocking chairs facing the ocean and I started to cry. I explained my wild night and about being written up in the Planet Hollywood “misfit’s log of fame”. They laughed a bit but were mostly supportive to their sensitive daughter. They let me talk until I could say no more and after some deep thought, they encouraged me to find a lesson from the experience in order to help me move on. They were fully aware of my tendency to obsess about situations that I could not longer change.

I promised to do my best, took the last sip of wine from my glass and gathered my things. My mom knew from my phone call that I needed to talk and my dad knew that a late call deserved a glass of wine.

My dad walked me back to my apartment with his arm around me. It was about one in the morning by now and I was exhausted. I thanked my dad for his help, hugged him and headed upstairs.

Talking out my problems helped a bit but I knew it would take some time to get over how I reacted to this hardship. Why did I fall apart when presented with this uncomfortable situation? It was stressful that all of my tables moved inside then filled up outside again with new customers, but was it really the end of the world?

What I needed to do, was take a deep breath, clear my thoughts and allow my co-workers to assist me. They were right there waiting to help me, yet all I could do was stare aimlessly without giving anyone the chance to help straighten out my mess.

I truthfully do not remember how I got through the evening. I have no idea who helped me, how my customers managed to get their meals, drinks and tabs. It was all a blur. That was one night in my life of waiting tables and I turned it into a dramatic event that nearly sent me to a therapist.

“Get a grip,” was the last thought I had before hitting the pillow and dosing off. “Get a grip.”

Planet Hollywood

Planet Hollywood 2001

Age: Twenty-Six

I love Hawaii. I love the sun, the beach, the warmth, the culture, the nature; I love all that Hawaii has to offer.

 I moved there with my sister after college just because. No other reason. We wanted to experience a place other than the Midwest and our dear friends, the Fonio Family, had lived there for thirteen years and had always raved about it.

So, after contemplating the idea for a few minutes, our decision was made, plans were executed and in a matter of weeks, off to Hawaii we flew, eager to get out of the cold and onto a towel on Waikiki Beach.

Our Minnesota selves found a studio flat two blocks from Waikiki Beach. It was such a great place to live. It put us right in the middle of all of the action.

We spent the first few weeks of our existence sun bathing by day and club hopping by night. Duke’s became our second home because of the tiki hut atmosphere and the close proximity to our apartment. Ahhh….the beach life. It was sooooo sweet. Too sweet, I guess, because we soon realized that we were spending an awful lot of money in this expensive Honolulu town without an income. Enter project job hunt.

We filled out countless applications and were turned down by almost every restaurant in the city. After a month of not working and only spending, we started to get nervous. Then, out of nowhere, our luck changed and Planet Hollywood came to the rescue. Soon we were waiting tables and pulling in some much needed cash.

Initially, I believed that Hawaii was a paradise where one could go and never have another problem again. Really that was my thinking. Unfortunately, I was wrong. In my defense, I was not alone in this sentiment. My friend Rudy honestly believed that if he moved to Hawaii, paradise would change his sexuality from gay to straight. He soon realized that switching location did not change his sexual preference and lo and behold, he was still gay. 

I was not trying to run away from anything, I just hoped that life in Hawaii would be carefree and laid back. No worries. But truth be told, normal problems are everywhere, even in paradise.

My horrible night in the beautiful city of Honolulu occurred at my workplace. There was nothing abnormal to start my shift; a Friday night, the usual Friday night staff, lovely weather and the outdoor patio.

The patio had a tropical feel with a tiki bar, a beautiful dolphin water fountain and a live band that drew in customers. It also overlooked Kalakaua Avenue, which was always busy with cars, buses and pedestrians. Even though we were not located on the ocean side, this popular street helped us stay in business.

The patio held about twenty tables that were split between three servers. We were busy but usually had few complaints. And a busy server often means big tips. It is a weird phenomenon but when a restaurant is slow with fewer customers, people tend to tip less and if a restaurant is packed and servers are running around under control yet with purpose, people tend to tip more. Strange but true.

Speaking of tipping, we included tip cards with the bill for all of our foreign customers. Most European and Asian countries do not tip. The servers in those countries are paid a decent hourly wage or salary therefore tipping is not necessary. In the US, servers are paid minimum wage (if that) and therefore live off of tips. Tip cards respectfully inform foreign travelers of the US tip custom. I was reluctant to us this card until I got burned a few times. Working for minimum wage does not pay the bills in Hawaii.

That night customers started flowing in at a normal pace, allowing for time to deliver drinks and make small talk with the guests. Soon we had a full house and a waiting list. Good for us. Well, good for us until it started raining.

The bar was inside and had half as many tables as the patio. People usually filled up the outside leaving the inside tables vacant. Well, after it started raining, our customers moved from the outside in and overflowed the place.

Customers on the move caused so much confusion. I knew my customers according to their table numbers and their orders, not their faces. Now, I had to seek them out as drink and food orders came up hoping to remember who ordered what. In the meantime, the rain started to let up and the tables outside began to fill up with new customers. So now, I had several tables inside that I couldn’t keep straight and new tables outside that added to my stress level.

I was running around, trying to make sense of it all, when I noticed that the food servers were unaware of the rain and the problems it had caused, so they were delivering food to the table number on the ticket. Because my customers had moved inside, the table numbers on the ticket were now incorrect and needed to be ignored. But in the chaos of it all, the food servers were ill informed, so they brought food out to the wrong guests!

Then I saw it. A table of two, who had not ordered a thing, was eating food that was accidentally delivered to them. My “real” customer, the one who had actually ordered the food, noticed the problem and said, “Hey, are they eating our food?” I did not know what to do except walk out to the guests, eating food they had not ordered, and explain to them that this was a mistake.

Well, these customers happened to be Japanese and did not speak a word of English. So, I tried my best to explain the controversy, I noticed that several other food orders were being delivered to the wrong tables as well.

I immediately left the Japanese couple and stopped the food server to explain the rain dilemma. Then, I grabbed the food tray from him and luckily found the customers who had actually ordered the food. I desperately needed a minute to catch my breath so I could start thinking clearly, but that was not going to happen. As I turned from my only satisfied customer, I ran into a stream of words from a disgruntled customer that included “incompetent” and “disorganized.”

I was starting to lose my mind. I did not know which problem to fix first. I had to reorder food to replace the food that was delivered to the wrong tables, I had drinks sitting on the bar that had not been delivered, I had people waiting for their tab and others waiting to order. Ahhhh!!!!!