Back in the days of lore, a visionary named Walt Disney created Disneyland. Little did he know what a pain in the ass it would become.
While our parents regale us with stories of E-Tickets, Mule Trains and $5 admissions, we have a more bitter view of what this park has really turned into.
Beginning with Eisner and continuing with the powers that be, this park is no longer The Happiest Place on Earth. It's not even The Second Happiest Place on Earth. It's now The Most Expensive Place on Earth.
Should you decide to beat the pavement with Mickey and Minnie, prepare to lose your wallet.
Your soul. Your SANITY.
http://www.ranker.com/list/12-things-we-hate-about-disneyland/litgoddess,
The Crowds
Aahhhhh....take a great big whiff. *sniiiiiiiffff*
You know what the smell is?
A lack of deodorant.
Between 50,000 - 80,000 people can fit into this park. When the Fire Marshall takes a day off, perhaps 100,000.
Half of those people have no idea where they are going or which rides they want to go on.
They are the ones who are walking and abruptly stop in the middle off the path to study their map.
They are the ones who take forever to get on a ride.
They are the ones who take forever to get off a ride.
They are the ones who cut in front of you in a line.
Or, my personal favorite, the ones who show up en masse of 20 to join their one friend who's been holding a place in line. Just when you think you're about to get on, an entire busload of people jump in front of you and you're stuck waiting another 15 minutes for a friggin' 5 minute ride.
And this is called having a good time.
The Price of Admission
1955 - $1
1965 - $4
1975 - $6
1985 - $16.50
1995 - $33
2005 - $56
2009 - $62 (3-9) $72 (10+)
2013 - $81 (3-9) $87 (10+)
Somewhere, the board of directors are wiping their asses with Benjamin Franklin and blowing their noses with William McKinley.
It's sick.
For a park that has yet to create a NEW ride that doesn't involve shooting pretend lasers or an acid trip of Woozles, there is little satisfaction of selling a kidney or turning a trick just to get into the damn place.
Somewhere, the board of directors are wiping their asses with Benjamin Franklin and blowing their noses with William McKinley.
It's sick.
For a park that has yet to create a NEW ride that doesn't involve shooting pretend lasers or an acid trip of Woozles, there is little satisfaction of selling a kidney or turning a trick just to get into the damn place.
The Wheelchair Poachers
My mother has rheumatoid arthritis. She turns 60 next year.
She deserves a goddamn wheel chair or automatic scooter.
I won't even quibble about the price. If $40 means that woman can stroll around the park, uninhibited and pain-free, it's money well spent.
That is, if she can get to the park early enough to snag a chair or scooter before the armies of lazy people manage to roll their fat asses out of bed.
But what does Disneyland care? I've watched them give their last scooter to a 400lb woman, who actually COULD walk, because she happened to be in line before an elderly man with a cane.
Why they don't require a disability placard or ID is beyond me. But if I see another family of 4 on scooters, lying out of their dimpled asses to the attendants so they can get in line faster than everyone else on Indiana Jones, I'm gonna throw them into Rivers of America and happily watch them drown.
Ride Closures
I don't know about you, but there are exactly three rides I want to go on at Disneyland.
Space Mountain
Big Thunder Mountain
Pirates of the Carribbean
That's all I care about. Otherwise, I spend my time watching dad's watching teenage girls, who are watching the teenage boys who are watching the girls, who are being watched by their mothers, who are fully aware that their husbands are having mental affairs.
So when I arrive at the park, I've already done my Ride Dance. I've already said my prayers. I've fasted for two weeks. I've gone without sex and other vices, all in the name of pleasing the gods and hoping and praying that my three rides are open and not...
CLOSED.
At this point, I may as well just leave the park. But given that I've already given the park the equivalent of half my paycheck plus rent, I may as well stick around and give them my car payment, too.
Time to head to the lines.
The Stroller Derby
The only reason why this isn't at number one is because I'm designing this list over the course of one day.
Otherwise, this is my number one, ALPHA OMEGA, pet peeve of this God forsaken place.
Strollers line up like prize-winning stallions at the starter gate for the Kentucky Derby.
10am: Gates open and THEY'RE OFF!!
Moms with their broods of 50 kids knock you out of the way as they make a mad dash for the rides.
It doesn't matter if there's 100 people in front of you. Those wheels will bang up against your heels and ankles relentlessly until you move...all so they can move up ONE MORE SPACE.
By the end of the day, your legs are black and blue, either from the stroller or from Rosemary's baby kicking you with their Nemo sneakers.
Your day is ruled by the Clan of Angry Moms from the moment you arrive at the parking structure to the moment you get back to your car.
They hog up the trams. They hog up the bathrooms. They refuse to clean up after their kids. YOU get stuck cleaning up Suzie's pee because Mommy was too busy adjusting her Belle costume to notice.
They hog up the tables at the restaurants and snack bars. Mom sits her ass down at a table for five and plops her 10 gallon mom bag on another table, while parking her 5-kid stroller at another one.
It won't matter how much you glare at her. She's not moving.
Your day is ruled - no, RUINED - by the legions of moms and their welfare-earning, I'm sorry, life improving children.
So suck it up and go on a week day.
Outdated Rides
At some point, Disneyland must evolve and embrace the trend that has saved Knotts and Six Flags from extinction.
The Kid Zone.
Knotts has Camp Snoopy and Magic Mountain has Bug's World.
Disneyland has....TOON TOWN.
It's like an acid trip of a cartoon from which there is no escape.
However, it doesn't have just rides. It has maybe 2 rides and the rest are giant props that my 8 yr old rabbit wouldn't deign to pee on.
Disneyland must accept that while it's key audience IS children, those kids aren't driving themselves to the park.
The kids aren't making the money to pay for the ticket, to pay for the food, to pay for the toy that will only be played with once, to pay for the t-shirt, to pay for the pictures, to pay...you get the idea.
The kids may be the customer but the adult is the buyer. And until they create a part of the park that is strictly for kids and capable of RETAINING kids, trips to Disneyland will still result in Dad glowing a fuse and Mom being a bitch.
And those of us without kids will have to put up with all of you.
Employee Attitudes
It's not an easy job working at Disneyland.
You have to deal with a lot of angry, rude, impatient, smelly people who believe it's your job to eat their pooh.
However, that does not give you the right to beat people with your glow stick when they don't move fast enough, proceeding a parade.
The best time to go on rides is during the fireworks show and during parades. You know this - that's why you're sprinting across the park from Splash Mountain to Space Mountain.
Try explaining that to a park employee, who believes they hold The Scepter of God Himself as they whisk you - no, SHOVE you - along the parade route.
"But I don't want to watch the f**king parade. I'm trying to get across the park."
"I don't care, buddy, move it!"
It's not your fault that the Octomom decided to stop in front of you, all because her 10 kids don't want to walk any more. You're TRYING to move, but Trigger Happy Trent doesn't care.
He's been on his feet for 9 hours without a lunch break, baking in the 90 degree heat and he's TIRED. So guess what? He's gonna whack you with his lava lamp.
Get over it.
The Tram Drivers
"Welcome to Disneyland. We ask that you keep your hands and arms inside the tram at all times. This includes your toes and fingers. This includes your toenails and fingernails. This includes your eyelashes and nose hair. Please collapse all strollers. Please no children on your lap unless they are under the age of 10. Disneyland will be open until midnight tonight. While you are here, you might want to check out the new parade on Main Street. When exiting the tram, please be sure to take your belongings with you. If you should lose an item while the tram is in motion, raise your hand and the driver will stop the tram so you can retrieve your item. When exiting the tram, make sure you exit to your right and watch your head. Again, we'd like to thank you for visiting Disneyland today. We hope you enjoy your stay with us today and if there is anything you need, simply ask the park attendant or report your needs to Disneyland Town Hall.
What? Oh, sorry. Driver, you're all clear."
The Cost of Food
There's a reason why people sneak food into the Disneyland.
With the exception of one corner of the park, the food here is comparable to the samples at Costco - except at Costco it's free.
The only food worth eating at Disneyland can be found in one place: New Orleans Square.
Frontier Land has it's over cooked Mexican food.
Adventure Land has maybe one endearing item in the form of Bengal BBQ - the chicken is actually pretty good. Otherwise, I'd gladly eat the Jungle Cruise guys alive any day of the week.
Fantasy Land has Geppetto's Shack, which hasn't changed the menu of $10 burgers, $10 pizza slices and $8 bottle water for 15 years.
Tomorrow Land has an entire building devoted to greasy pizza, soggy pasta and wilting salad. If you decide to brave the burger bar, you'll easily pay $35 for lunch for two. And that doesn't include sodas.
Main Street is good for pastries and ice cream.
You'll have to prove to me that the chicken is free range, the burgers are 100% Angus and the lettuce is grown from God's own garden.
Otherwise, I'm parking it at New Orleans Square and happily paying through the nose for a bread bowl of chowder, a plate of smoked sausage and the best coffee this side of Anaheim.
The Lines
The Fastpass was a good idea for about five minutes.
However, whoever invented the Fastpass most likely never visited the park during peak hours.
Granted, you can prance to the front of the lines at Space Mountain, gleefully and smugly smiling in the stone faces of those who have been broiling in the sun for 2 hours already.
But since you can only do one Fastpass at a time, and you have to wait 2 hours before you can use it, what exactly are you supposed to do with yourself until you can hop aboard Big Thunder Railroad?
Exactly.
You'll spend your time doing what everyone else is doing: waiting in line.
You'll have to deal with pushy tourists who think they'll get ahead of you just by touching your back one too many times.
Granted, this is America. We move for people simply because we don't want to deal with them. But not THIS American. I refuse to move. This is my f**king spot and I refuse to give it up to someone who thinks they're better than me. We're ALL gonna roast in the hot sun, buddy, so calm the f**k down.
While you're practicing being a mannequin, you'll enjoy the - you guessed it - STROLLER banging away at your heels. Odds are, mommy gave the reigns over to her older child (all of 7 yrs old) and she's having fun "steering."
If that isn't enough punishment, you might be next to a group of people who don't believe in deodorant or soap. So while your ankles and legs are getting banged up, your nostrils are suffering at the same time. You concentrate on breathing through your mouth and taking bursts of air from the ice in your soda.
By the time you get to the front of the line, your skin is red and scaly, you have a headache and your legs are black and blue.
Having fun?