A Super-Power...In Disguise

It has been determined that I'm cursed. I vaugely suspected so previously, as every checkout line I ever enter is the slowest one in the store. (The only person in front of me once decided to pay in pennies.) But of all the places to have my suspicions confirmed, Disneyland isn't where I expected it to occur. Yet, at Disneyland it was.

With the three-day weekend, I was glad to take a vacation and visit somewhere new. Having lived on the west coast for a while now, and having not yet been to Disneyland, it seemed the obvious choice. Being in mid-February only helped solidify my decision, as the crowd was hopefully going to be much smaller than much of the rest of the year. So into the car we piled, and down the coast we drove. Getting to the LA area late, we had one day in Disneyland and were going to make the best of it.

Or so the natives would have us believe.

Things were going well. We got into the park a bit later than I'd have liked, but as long as it was before noon, we still had a good half-of-the-day to play. Got passes for Space Mountain (of course. Ugh.), flew through Buzz Lightyears, and tried to take a ride on the Matterhorn. That would be where my curse began to rear its ugly head. I don't expect to be stopped on the track. I moreso don't expect to have to be evacuated through the interior of the mountain.

In the next day and a half, two more rides broke down on us. Neither that we were actually on, but both of which as we were up /next/.

Yet, as I was chatting with a friend later that day, I realized that it might not be a curse. Very few people can claim they've seen the inside of a Disneyland ride. Or so sayeth my friend that had been hoping to be evacuated for twenty-odd years.