I love Disney World—honestly though, who doesn’t? But while it may be the happiest place on Earth, it’s not all magic and rainbows. Following up on last Tuesday’s Part One, here’s the thrilling conclusion to my essay entitled “Waiting in Line at Disney World: A Grieving Process.”

Bargaining

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done,

on Splash Mountain as it is in heaven.

I promise I will never ask for another thing in my entire life—or at least on the remainder of this trip. I’ll never complain when I get thirsty, and I’ll never say anything mean to my sisters even when they team up to decide what ride we’re going on next, even though I already told them WE’VE GONE ON THE PETER PAN RIDE FIVE TIMES ON THIS TRIP AND WE ONLY RODE BIG THUNDER MOUNTAIN ONE TIME AND—

I pray all of these things in your name.

Amen.

P.S. – 90 minutes? Really?

Depression

90 minutes. It’s been 90 minutes, and we haven’t even reached the indoor part of the line where there’s air conditioning and shade and hope. I have had to reapply sunscreen twice. I have had to reapply a happy face many more times. Even if I ever do get on the ride it won’t be worth it because I have wasted so much of my life waiting in this stupid line. Like, you know what a guy can do in 90 minutes? I could have watched Toy Story in its entirety and still had nine minutes left over. I could have read an entire Magic Tree House book. I could have watched eight episodes of Spongebob. I mean, really, I could have listened to Africa by Toto 18.24 times. But that doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. I’ll never get out of this line, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Tell my mother I love her.

“Hey mom? I love you.”

Walter Disney, you son of a—oh, what’s the use.

Acceptance

“How many?”

90 minutes.

“Sir, how many people are riding with you?”

“Oh, five.”

“Alright, just go ahead and they’ll tell you where to get on.”

We have been accepted.

This is the greatest moment of my life. I waited for 110 minutes, much longer than the estimated wait time of 90 minutes, but that doesn’t matter now. Actually, it does. I did wait for almost two hours to get on this ride. I did that. I couldn’t have done anything about that wait time, but I made it through the other side a changed man. Now I’m going to go down that hill, get drenched and strike a pose when the camera flashes to make my family think I’m funny.

Jackson Bayer is a senior creative writing major. He can be reached at 581-2812 or at [email protected].