“This is just a trip report,” I said. “This is just two weeks of Walt Disney World and a week in Las Vegas. Plus side trips to Hoover Dam and Mt. Charleston. Well, and then another week in Walt Disney World at the end of the year. With details on expenses, food, and attractions, of course. And swimming with sharks And being beamed onto the Enterprise Yes, plenty of happy bouncing in the Happiest Place on Earth and points west. What a brilliant time."
Mary Poppins herself couldn’t have outdone the reproachful silence. Mike nodded. I relented.
“Oh, and all the usual ranting about smokers, the waitstaff industry, children in harnesses, line-cutters, and every single customer service misstep we could put to paper. Er, what’s a trip report without all that plus underwear troubles?"
Already read all the sensible guides to a holiday with the Mouse, the ones with the little forks and stars? Wondering how a day or twenty really goes down? How much does that bagel cost in Disney dollars, anyway? “This is just a trip report,” I repeated, “but then what else should it be?”
