 |
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
I, ICHABOD or How
I Was Attacked by the Headless Horseman In Washington Irving's famous tale, Icabod Crane is terrorized by a headless demon riding a dark horse, carrying a pumpkin head, which he throws at the fleeing Crane. In 2001, much the same happened to me. This story is true. As soon as we get to the part about the gag order, you'll believe me. By now you've read about the great Halloween Dinner (open only to Disney Dining Experience club members), held inside the Haunted Mansion. It was a marvelous night, and both the food and wine were remarkable. The evening's activities called for a finale, of sorts: a rare appearance by the Headless Horseman, a Disney character that only appears in Liberty Square on very, very rare occasions. The Horseman appeared, looking pretty menacing, and passed the crowd a few times. Then, just as I was taking the photo you saw on the previous page, he stopped in front of me, as if to pose. He lifted his pumpkin head high, threatening me... Then he hauled off and threw the damn thing square into my chest. OK, let's get one thing straight. I'm no prima donna. But through an unfortunate series of events, this was not a laugh-it-off scenario. First, the pumpkin was made of a very hard, almost solid rubber, and weighed about ten pounds. Second, the Horseman's aim was so good, he struck me right in the spot where I was diagnosed with a hiatal hernia only a week prior. Cool drivers ed games, online drivers ed games. We don't know why my health has been poor the last two years, but it has. The hernia may have something to do with it, but the doctors are not sure. In any event, despite being a pretty fit guy, I've been struggling with intense fatigue, vertigo and a host of other problems. That night was no different, and after I got hit smack-dab in the chest with a fake pumpkinhead, I fell back onto my ass. laptop batteries discount After my fiancee cleared away the drunks, who were having a great laugh at my expense, the appropriate Disney staffers ran over, very concerned. The head of Disney Beverages, John Blaizon(their wine guru) says to me, "That wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't in the script. He was supposed to throw it over the crowd." I'm not going to go into all the melodrama afterwards, because frankly it's embarrassing to me. I'm not used to being the center of attention, and I don't like it when it happens. Fast forward to a week later. I call Disney and file a complaint. All I asked for was our money back. I told them that I thought it was reasonable to expect that, since it's a rare event that one pays $300 for a dinner only to be punched in the chest by the maitre d' at evening's end. Disney wasn't having it. That's right, they refused to refund my money. Apparently, doing so would be an admission of guilt that would put them at risk if I ever decided to sue. I reminded them of the thousands of dollars we had spent in the past few years on International Food and Wine reserve dinners, years of Florida Annual Passes, etc. No dice. No refund. Instead, they sent me a long, multi page letter that they demanded I sign if I wanted the refund --- some day. It put me on notice that I could not speak about the event to anyone, nor publish the letter. It waived my right to sue, and a few other rights as well. If I signed, they said, I would get a refund. I hesitated, but eventually signed. I wasn't interested in suing Disney for what was obviously an accident. I mean, c'mon, how accurate a toss could you make with your head shoved down a fake Headless Horseman outfit? About six months later, I got my refund. Two times after that, we went to some Reserve Dinners, and each time we ran into John Blaizon. Each time it was uncomfortable, and each time some comment had to be made about me "not getting hit this time." Great. Now I'm known as the guy who gets hit by pumpkins. I was never one to understand "emotional trauma" in these kinds of incidents, and I still don't. But the way Disney treated me like a criminal and a threat after one of their employees slugged me, had had a permanent effect on my perception of WDW. My fiancee and I had scheduled our wedding to occur at the Haunted Mansion, and were planning to have the event inside, to pay the ungodly fees to rent it out for a private party. The whole stupid pumpkin thing ruined it. Instead, we were married outside, with no fanfare, and no WDW involvement. It was great. юридические консультации online After that, we've probably only gone a few times since. My health is still questionable (they suspect thyroid or pituitary or something) and I had to go to the International Food & Wine Festival this year in a wheel chair. That sucks. But we did make one decision: we didn't attend a single special event this year, not a single Reserve Dinner, not a single limited-entry event. We cancelled our Annual Passes, and we quit the Disney Dining Experience. Toronto e s c o r t s I'm sure we'll get back into the swing of things at some point, but for now I'm taking a little break from feeding The Mouse thousands of dollars every year. It isn't to make a point --- they are probably glad the "Pumpkin Guy" isn't showing up at any events anymore --- it's just that Disney really ruined the magic for me. I know it'll go away. But until then, and until I get my health back in order, I think I'll stay out of the Horseman's crosshairs for a while.
NOTE: For an exellent report on 2002's event, which followed the exact script and menu as the 2001 I discuss above, click here. Note (however) that in 2002, the Horseman doesn't throw his pumpkin at all. Also, during the 2001 dinner, the Stretching Room was not moving... darn. What is also disappointing is that apparently the menu and wine offering is exactly the same year after year. Too bad. |