So, to sum it up, Adam currently works here:

With such characters as 'Duck' and 'Girl Cat'. (see below)

Nah, I'm just joshin ya'. Adam didn't move all the way to China to work at the Beijing Shijingshan Amusement Park. But, he does work at Disneyland. That's right... friggin' Disneyland. Now, this is a really hard thing to admit because Adam is an avid Looney Toon fan, and will happily strangle 'Boy Cat' with his stinkin' red pants to defend Bugs Bunny's cross dressing on any occasion.
So, what exactly does Adam do at Disneyland, you're asking yourself? Well, basically nothing. Adam is a doorman, yet he does not open and close the hotel's doors, for they are automatic. Instead, he spends 8 and a half (a freakin' half!) hours standing in the middle of an englarged driveway, wearing a costume with too much starch that makes parts of Adam's body itch (the nether parts), while opening car doors for happy families that come to Disneyland not for employment. Oh, and I get to yell at taxis. And, um... that's about it. And, that, ladies and gentleman, is a typical day. And, I believe that Adam has never been more bored in his life.
"BUT, I'LL DO IT! FOR THE BABY!", he silently screams as his soul dies little by little at the hands of a duck without pants (until it is two and it can get it's own job).
There are, however, some perks.
Adam does see celebrities almost every weekend, which he will happily list off for you in order from most to least impressive:
1. Harrison Ford
2. Adam Sandler ( I have his Mickey Mouse balloon weight)
3. Travis Barker (keep reading for the story on this guy)
4. John Stamos (he apparently has a coke problem and has hookers delivered to his room in the middle of the night... no joke, but Uncle Jesse is kind of a pimp, or at least owes money to some)
5. LeBron James
6. Ally McBeal
He has also taken this oppertunity to test drive different cars, to see which will be appropriate for the family.
Here are the top five cars that Adam likes to drive:
1. Land/Range Rover
2. A Prius
3. The cars with cameras on the bumpers.
4. Cars that don't smell like farts.
5. The golfcart
Basically I get to spend almost one mintue in people's personal filth.
There are also bomb scares, people getting hit by cars, and yesterday Adam had to walk through a union protest to get to his car, and there is nothing scarier than the hotel union that basically doesn't speak english and is yelling at you.
But, the best part of Adam's job (other than standing for eight and a half hours cotemplating how to get workers comp by throwing himself in front of the next Escalade) is fighting, that's right, fighting with limo drivers.
Now, we come to this guy:

Mr. Travis Barker.
So, for those of you who don't know who he is, he drums for a band calld Blink 180 Suck (but, he's actually really good), had an MTV show with some former actress/bunny from 'Pacific Blue' (think Baywatch meets NYPD Blue, minus the intelligence of Baywatch), and basically does a lot of coke, rocks a mohawk, and has an impressive tattoo collection.
One piece of information to add, before we begin. Limos, nor taxis or other TCP (what does that stand for?) vehicles are allowed on the drive, but must use the drive on the outside. Thus, when Adam sees a limo (by, the way, all the cabbies know better than to get on the drive) pull onto the drive, he gets a little mad. Limo guy pulls into the drive and Adam calmly approaches the window and tells him that he can't park here and that he has to go on the other side, so says the rules. Well, Captain Asshole (yes, he really is a captain of an asshole) tells him that his client is Travis Barker. Adam tells Capt. Asshole that he still can't park here and needs to go on the other side. Capt. Asshole asks to speak to the guy in charge, where Adam replies, "I am the guy in charge, this is my drive, so back up and get in the other lane."
Score one for Adam.
Well, now, Adam thought all was well, but re-enter Capt. Asshole, now holding up, yes, let's count them, five taxis, a giant bus, and three airport shuttles, all because he's trying to park crookedly in the outer lane.
Well, Adam just can't stand for this, so he approaches the limo and asks the Captain to repark in between the vans. Capn' says that it is Adam's fault that he's holding up traffic and that he can't move.
The following dialogue actually took place:
CAPT: If I could park in the drive this wouldn't have happened.
ADAM: But, you can't park in the drive, so you have to straighten out.
CAPT: I can't move. (He says with a smile).
ADAM: Well, you're gonna have to.
CAPT: I don't like your attitude.
ADAM: Well, if Johnny Depp has to wait in the outside lane, so can your client.
CAPT: What did you say? (asked aggresively, like only a complete jackass can truly say)
ADAM: (completely stunned that this actually came out of his mouth) I said I don't give a flying f**k, now move.
CAPT: (Now, completely stunned, and even more of a jackass) WHAT?!
ADAM: I said I don't care. MOVE.
And, you know what happened next... he moved.
Score two for Adam.
And, to top it all off, after he moved, and traffic started to flow, Adam went up to Captain Asshole and gave him two thumbs up.
Homerun. Adam wins. (On another note, the bellman also lost one of Mr. Barker's bags, just making everything all the more sweeter, not that Adam doesn't like Mr. Barker, but he thinks that he should get a new driver.)
With all that being written... it really, truly, is a... terrible job. And, it all has to be done in costume. But, the kicker to this whole ordeal is that while visiting Disneyland for the first time, Goofy, the one character Adam actually enjoys, hit on his fiance while Minnie Mouse was shacked up at Goofy's house. That's right. Goofy plays the field, and pushed me out of his way, to hug his fiance, and made a wonderful trip to Disneyland incredibly awkward.

Cost of Mickey Ears: $27.
Cost of a churro: $3.
Cost of going to Disneyland for free: Dignity.
*

*Editor's note: At least it's not EuroDisney.
End blog.
1 comment:
Adam, you shouldn't have said what you did to him. You should've kicked him in the balls. Mom.
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