Reruns, Part 2

Look at this old blog post from when we didn't even know what rope drop was. We just happened to make it time: Rope Drop

Of course, that could just be that Trev is on the wrong side of the rope they use to wrangle in guests during a parade.  Who could tell since it was so long ago?

Also, be a good blog follower and check on the weather in Anaheim.  Might as well check on St. George too.

Long Story:

This Goes From Bad to Worse

Slowly, as if dragged by invisible ropes, the families began to shuffle toward the shuttle stop, heads hung low. The usual hustle and bustle of the esplanade—families buzzing with excitement, music playing—felt completely alien to them. It was like the world was in color, but they were seeing it in black and white.

“We’re really going back to the shuttle?” Trevor asked, staring at the ground as he walked. “It’s barely even breakfast time.”

“Do you think there’s even a shuttle running this early?” Reagan asked, a little uncertainty creeping into her voice. “We’re probably the only people going back to the parking lot before 9 a.m.”

“We’re trendsetters,” Kevin muttered dryly, his jingling jewelry now feeling completely out of place.

When they arrived at the shuttle stop, the bus was, unsurprisingly, empty. Not a single other soul in sight. The families climbed on board, the smell of diesel and Disney disappointment thick in the air. The bus driver, clearly in a chipper mood, glanced at the massive group with a raised eyebrow as they sat down, looking as defeated as if they'd just been through the worst line-cutting scandal of the century.

As they boarded, the driver, an older man with a smirk, eyed the unusually somber group. “Well, that was fast,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “Forget something? Like, uh... tickets?”

The families, exhausted and utterly defeated, didn’t respond. The silence was deafening.

The driver tried again. “Or maybe y’all just aren’t morning people, huh?”

Still nothing. The driver sighed, accepting his defeat, and shifted the bus into gear.

The ride back to the Toy Story parking lot felt eternal, the air thick with the weight of collective disappointment.

Back at the hotel, the families huddled together in the cramped lobby, still reeling from the morning's disastrous turn of events. They settled into a corner with some couches and began brainstorming ideas for salvaging the day.

“Well, we still have the hotel for tonight,” Steve said, trying to sound optimistic.

“Yeah,” Mandy replied, still skeptical, “but what are we supposed to do all day? Sit around and cry over missed churros?”

Julene, ever the planner, perked up. “What about the Santa Monica Pier? We went a few years ago, and the kids loved it.”

“Ugh,” Zac groaned. “Remember how Trevor threw up after riding that rollercoaster too many times?”

Trevor grinned. “Worth it.”

“Oh! What about Seal Beach?” Lissa chimed in. “We had so much fun there last time. The kids were tiny, but they had a blast playing in the sand.”

“Seal Beach is good,” Christian nodded. “But it’s kind of cold today. Do we really want to freeze our butts off at the beach?”

“We could eat lunch at Bubba Gump’s,” Jeff suggested. “I could definitely go for some shrimp.”

“Bubba Gump’s?” Steve rubbed his chin, deep in thought. “That could work. It’s touristy, but in a good way.”

Kevin piped up. “As long as we don’t have to answer any trivia questions from Forrest Gump this time. Last time they asked us ten questions, and we got, like, one right.”

The group chuckled, starting to warm up to the idea of a laid-back day by the beach, maybe with some seafood and arcade games thrown in. But just as they began mapping out their plan, the door to the suite swung open, and in marched a cheerful housekeeper with a cart full of fresh linens.

“Hi! Just here to clean up!” she chirped, completely unaware of the storm brewing in the room.

Mandy blinked. “Uh… clean up? We’re still here.”

The housekeeper paused, a confused look crossing her face. “Oh, but check-out was at 11. You’re not... staying another night, are you?”

The entire room went dead silent.

Julene looked at Steve with wide eyes. “Wait… didn’t you book two nights here?”

Steve’s face went pale. “I… I thought I did.”

“You thought you did?” Lissa exclaimed, her voice rising in panic.

“Wait, does that mean we’re not even staying here tonight?” asked Zac, already halfway between horrified and hysterical.

The housekeeper glanced at her watch. “I’m afraid not. And if you don’t check out soon, there might be some, um... extra charges.”

Suddenly, the fun-filled Santa Monica Pier plans, the laid-back day at Seal Beach, and the potential Bubba Gump’s shrimp feast all went out the window. Everyone stood there, mouths agape, as the reality of the situation sunk in.

“We don’t even have a place to stay?” Trevor asked, as though this were some kind of nightmare.

“No,” Mandy said slowly, her disbelief turning into something between a laugh and a cry. “We… have to leave. Now.”

Brandon threw his hands up. “We’ve been evicted from two places today!”

The families scrambled into action, throwing clothes into bags, zipping up suitcases, and checking under beds for stray socks. It was a chaotic blur of activity, with everyone marveling at how quickly their amazing Disneyland trip had turned into a complete disaster.

“We were literally having the best time,” Kevin muttered, stuffing his toothbrush into a pocket. “And now? Now, we’re homeless.”

Julene zipped up her suitcase and sighed. “How did this happen so fast?”

Christian shook his head in disbelief. “One minute, we’re eating churros. The next minute, we’re refugees from Disneyland, kicked out of our own hotel.”

“I mean, at least we still have our health, right?” Steve offered, trying to lighten the mood.

Mandy shot him a look. “Steve, if I were you, I wouldn’t say another word for the rest of the day.”

And with that, the families dragged their suitcases out of the room, checking out of the hotel, and stepping into the harsh sunlight. What had started as an epic Disneyland adventure had now turned into a mad dash to avoid extra hotel fees. They stood on the curb, bags in hand, trying to figure out what had just happened.

“Well,” Lissa said with a deep breath, “that escalated quickly.”

Julene nodded. “From magical churros to this... in record time.”