Holiday Hootennanies with Scarlett and the Fam Damily! Day Two, Part 4, Updated 4/25 About This Page:

[TinkerBelts]

Sounds like a wonderful trip so far. OOOH, I love the way the CM moved your room location, how cool. I just love Disney MAGIC!!!!

[momtolexi]

O.K. Please do not leave us hanging like this. I want to hear...no I NEED to hear about this upcoming adventure! Great trip report Scarlett.

[disneybecky]

Oooh can't wait for more. Hurry back please

[KandJluvdisney]

you really are going to leve us hanging aren't you
anyhoo - your room looks fab as do the girls - love kenz's hair
sounds like you are in for a treat or too
hurry back with more please please

[DrDolphin]

OMG - You HAVE to come back and tell us what happened! Do not leave us here - hanging.... please!!!

[pparm]

MORE PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Paula

[travismom]

I have never laughed so hard out loud at work as I did today when reading your trip report. I especially love the part about the margaritas and and getting off balance. You are so funny!!!

Please don't leave us hanging - MORE PLEASE - SOON.....!!!!

[mom to 3 princesses and 1 prince]

Oh, Scarlett, you made me laugh out loud several times during that installment. Good thing the kids are in bed, or they would be right beside me, asking me what's so darn funny and I don't think I could tell them!

PLEASE hurry back; your adoring fans can't wait to hear the rest of the tale!

[DyanKJ130]

Great update! Sounds like that margarita is doing its work! Can't wait to hear more

[Snooky the Disney Mom]

You sure do know how to tell a story! You keep us laughing & hanging! Can't wait to hear the mission. Can't wait to go to Disney!!!

[BelmontBelle]

Can't wait for more!

[KandJluvdisney]

scarlett where are you???

[Disney_Scarlett]

So I know everyone’s been anxiously awaiting this update, and I apologize for the delay. The good thing is that the timing worked out perfectly. I’m currently home from work on sick leave as I apparently have severe muscle spasms in my neck and back. The bad thing is I can’t get into physical therapy until tomorrow; the good thing is that until then, I’m on Vicodin and muscle relaxers. The way I see it, my state of mind right now is right in line with my state of mind about half-way through our little World Showcase challenge. So forgive any larger-than-normal quantities of nonsense ramblings or typos, and here we go!

Oh, and for those of you that hate wordy trip reports, just skip this update entirely. I have no pictures of this afternoon, so you’ll have to depend on my cohorts’ reports for photographic evidence.

The challenge was, in short: we had to visit each World Showcase country and buy either an alcoholic beverage or a food item. We had $55 dollars to do this with, and one of the “catches” was that we had to have no more than 3 food items – which meant 8 alcoholic beverages. If and when we ran out of money, we could still check a country off our list if we bargained with a CM for something NOT on the menu – a kiss on the cheek, and as Karen stated in her “if you choose to accept” letter, which cheek was up to us. From what I remember it could be Passporter kissing CM or vice versa. Karen obviously has mad connections at her work, as she had a card printed in each language of the WS countries explaining our mission and what we needed from the reader of the card. Also, in Karen’s defense, she was not necessarily promoting such promiscuous behavior, as she had perused the allearsnet menus and certified that, with careful planning, the challenge COULD be done without having to use any of the “pucker up” cards. However, figuring out that magic formula was up to us.

Can I say how much I love this challenge? Basically, someone (Karen) is going to pay my tab for drinking and eating my way around the World Showcase, and if I run out of money, I get to ask hot, foreign CM’s for a little lip action? Word.

Now, granted, the five of us (Sharon, Eileen, Tiff, Dawn and myself – Karen being the mastermind behind it all wasn’t participating in the strategizing/eating/drinking, but just standing back and doing what she does best - pointing and laughing – hey, it was her $55, she better get somethin’ out of it!) were splitting all things purchased, so it wasn’t as if any one person had to consume eight alcoholic beverages in the course of approximately two hours; therefore, no one should have been at danger for alcohol poisoning (but don’t try this at home, kids!). However, let’s remember that a) I had not eaten since those peanuts on the plane and b) I had already consumed almost all of my margarita “friend” (backstabber). Also, to add insult to injury, I quickly discovered that I was the only one of the group that liked beer, which as we all know, is the least expensive alcoholic drink available in the WS (and pretty much anywhere, which is one of the reasons I love it so much). I think it was Dawn who immediately asked, “Does anyone like beer?” and I quickly raised my hand. When I noticed no one else was raising their hand, I went ahead and raised both of mine. Sometimes you have to take one for the team.

Before we could get started, though, we had to wait for Eileen. Karen was in contact with her and she was on her way through the Epcot gates, so we positioned ourselves near the end of the lighted arches leading to Christmas tree. I can’t remember what we chatted about for the five or ten minutes that we stood there, but let’s just say there was no silence to be had.

Soon I spotted Eileen making her way towards us. I admit that at this point, I was feeling a wee bit star-struck. I mean, the CLT was together, right in front of me! However, Eileen is one of the warmest, funniest people you’ll ever meet, so any butterflies I had felt about spending the afternoon with all these ladies that already knew one another melted away in seconds. She’s like the big sister that I never had (and I have three of them ). She’s so cool that I was even able to get past another dose of Hair Envy that I experienced after meeting Eileen. You can tell from pictures that she has some of the most gorgeous red curls that you’ll ever see, and they are just as fabulous in person.

Before we revealed the challenge to Eileen, somehow we got to talking about doing laundry (which was what had delayed her arrival), and something about her having a bra hanging out of her bag as she made her way through the lobby of either the GF or the Wilderness Lodge. Seriously, is this the Vicodin talking? I have no idea. Either way, we pulled out the mission and our cards and soon Eileen had caught up with the rest of the class.

We decided to start on the Canada side, as we wanted to end with a margarita in Mexico. Speaking of margaritas, I had taken one last desperate slurp from mine and disposed of the remaining inch or so of evil, evil liquid before we started our challenge. My definition of alcohol abuse is wasteful disposal of adult beverages, but no need to start out double fisting, as I’m sure it was in my near future anyway.

As we made our way to Canada, it was also discussed at to who would be doing the kissing when we inevitably ran out of money. The three married gals really would prefer not to have pictures of themselves giving sugar to strange men posted on the Internet, which left Sharon and me to duel it out. I have absolutely no memory of how I was designated the team-kisser – Sharon could have gracefully bowed out and requested that I take on that duty. Or, it could have been that I shoved Sharon out of the way, and much like the beer conflict, raised both hands in the hair and screamed, “PICK ME! OH, PICK ME!” Maybe it was that my reputation precedes me and it has been decided beforehand that I would excel as team kisser and there was no discussion at all. Either way, all I know is that by the time we were standing in line to purchase a Canadian beer, I realized that I was both The Beer Girl and The Kissing Girl. My mama would be so proud.

Sharon was The Money Girl, and was in charge of keeping track of our funds (probably because she has a reputation that precedes her as well, much different from mine – i.e., she’s smart and can make change ‘n stuff ). After she purchased our beer (which I don’t remember what it was called, but was quite delicious and reminded me of my ol’ stand-by, Bud Light), we made our way into the United Kingdom. I think that all of my cohorts tasted the beer, but I definitely was the one who did the most damage to it, and by the time we had selected another drink in the UK to purchase (I believe it was cider), I was well on my way to finishing the first one, so I only had to double-fist for a few minutes.

(Please take note of the usage of such phrases as “I think that…” “From what I remember…” “I believe…” – this should tip you off that a lot of details from this afternoon are a bit blurry)

After we had gotten the cider, Karen gleefully pointed out that we had already made our first error. We could’ve gotten chips from the UK for like, $2.00. Oops.

Tiff and Dawn were already on their way to France to scope out some cheap chocolates that Eileen had spotted there earlier in the week, so maybe that would help to even things up. Karen really didn’t approve of this ploy, as she felt it was cheating since it was a pre-packaged food item that could be bought in a store, instead of something from one of the stands. So we made a deal – we’d buy enough chocolate to make up the cost of the chips, and from here on out, food items have to be freshly made and from a restaurant/stand.

On our way to France, we ran into a Passporter that Karen and Eileen knew – I stood off to the side nursing the cider while they chatted and I overheard him telling them he had lost his wallet. I remember someone suggesting he check with Guest Services about it, and as we walked off, Karen screamed over her shoulder, “PIXIE DUST!” I almost snorted cider up my nose, and shot her a whiskey-tango-foxtrot look and said, “I know you didn’t just yell out “PIXIE DUST!” as an afterthought towards that guy.” Karen and I dissolved into giggles. It should be made clear that we weren’t laughing at his lost wallet – that truly stinks – but at Karen’s attempt to be sweet with Disney-fied sympathy, but totally coming off as maniacal. Who let her in the Grand Floridian again?

Anyway, once in France, I actually didn’t get any of the chocolate – I think I was still hogging the cider at this point and didn’t want the two tastes to interfere. Or maybe I was just still hogging the cider. Either way, we soon made it over to Morocco and got some baklava. This was the first time in my life I’ve ever had baklava, and let me tell you, the one little bite I got was delish. I’m remembering a large crowd inside the Tangerine Cafe, and Eileen having a fine time joking with another guest about not getting anything with nuts. I feel like I’m giving y’all the punch lines and letting you figure out the rest of the joke, but that’s all I remember! I do remember us asking the CM in Morocco as to what was the cheapest snack to be had, and the baklava was it.

In Japan, we opted for the Plum Wine. Since Karen mentioned the Kaki Gori in her letter, you would have thought we would have opted for it as our remaining food item, but we didn’t – maybe it was because the Plum Wine was so cheap ($4.50). All I remember is Sharon getting carded.

I tasted the plum wine, but it was entirely too sweet for me and left it for my non-beer-drinking cohorts to fight over. Over in the American pavilion, we knew it was beer time again, and what’s more American than a Sam Adams? The line for Sam Adams was particularly long (and does anyone else remember a lady getting a little snippy when she thought we were cutting in line?). Our entire group waited in it for a minute before deciding to send half of us on to Italy to scope out the goods. I believe it was Dawn, Tiff and I that made our way to Italy.

Here’s where things get a little embarrassing. Dawn was so kind to omit a few details from her trip report concerning this portion of the adventure, and I think that shows what a good friend she really is, because only a true friend would not re-tell the really funny parts of a story for the sake of saving their pal embarrassment, (or maybe it shows how drunk she was too...eh, details). However, it’s entirely too hilarious for me to leave out, so I’ll throw myself under the bus for the sake of a few chuckles of you faithful readers.

We had decided that, yes, we had not budgeted well and would indeed run out of money before we completed the adventure. Therefore it was time to choose a country or two to bestow our cards upon and hopefully receive a little somethin’ somethin’ in return. Eileen had professed her faith in the Norwegian gene pool earlier, so that was one country that we planned to bat our eyelashes at. Considering that I was The Team Kisser, I felt that I should get a big say-so in who I was exchanging germs with, and Italy was my Number One Choice.

I should say, at this point, that I may have a little…context…as to why I zoned in on those Italian CMs. I spent a summer in Florence back in college, and from my experience, I found Italian men to extremely friendly and open. This was important for this particular task, as the last thing I wanted was to be turned down for a smooch – how embarrassing could you get. As I could recall, I had not met one Italian man that would say no to just about anything an American girl would ask for while I was across the pond, so I was crossing my fingers that the ol’ US of A had not rubbed off too much on these CM’s (‘cause as Karen pointed out in her TR, us Americans are all about some boundaries, and I was definitely looking for someone without any).

Luckily, I had enough liquid courage in my veins at this point that I felt pretty darn certain that I could find someone to help me out. Dawn, Tiff and I sashayed (well, I was sashaying; I think Dawn and Tiff were just following me and laughing) through the shops in Italy, looking for a suitable smoocher. I spotted one handsome CM, but he was busy with customers, so we meandered outside. At this point, I believe the rest of the ladies had met back up with us near the Italian drink stand, and we decided to go ahead and purchase a drink and maybe try our luck in Germany for a CM. Of course, while in line, we spot two Italian hotties working the lemoncello line. There was one in particular who was quite dazzling, so we set our sights on him. The day had gotten quite warm outside, and I had threw my hair up into a haphazard ponytail, but all of the sudden I realized I was getting ready to ask someone to kiss me – I might want to look a little presentable. Hard to do when you’ve been up since 6:00 am and have the gross traveling-day aura about you, but nevertheless, I jerked the elastic out of my hair and attempted to fluff my limp strands out (if I could’ve jerked the curls off of Karen or Eileen’s head and put them on mine, I would have). Dawn TOTALLY called me out on my not-so-subtle primping and I turned even redder than I’m sure I already was.

Finally it was our turn to “order,” and I put on my best 1,000 watt smile and said to my Italian cutie, “I was wondering if you could read this for me.” He shot me a confused look, took a quick glance at the growing line behind me (which I was fully aware of as well) and started to read the card quickly. (It should be said that I did take four semesters of Italian in college, so I probably could have just asked him, in very, very broken Italian for what I needed, but using the card was so much more fun. Plus, I never said I did well in those classes, so I probably would have ended up asking him for something much worse than a kiss. Or better, depending on how you look at it).

All six of us were standing around with bated breath while he mumbled the words to himself. At one point he stopped and looked up at us. He went back to reading and finally got to the part requesting the infamous smooch. I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head! The look on his face was priceless, and we all simply roared with laughter when his peepers got as big as saucers and he stumbled back a little.

He finally finished reading the card and agreed to his part of the mission. I stepped up to the plate and we faced someone’s camera (Karen, maybe?). The next thing I knew he was grabbing my face and going for a full lip-on-lip smooch. Now it was MY turn for a shocked look. Ahhh!

I really have no idea why I was so shocked. First, let’s remember that I do have some experience with Italian men, so really, I stepped right into that one. Two, Karen’s just the type of girl who would leave out the “cheek” part of the mission on the foreign language cards, knowing that us less cultured folks would never be the wiser, so he probably was just following her instructions.

I’m actually incredibly disappointed at my reaction. I broke off the kiss (or almost-kiss – I can’t remember if we actually touched lips) and, conjured up some indignation down deep, deep, DEEP in my soul (like, really deep – I didn’t even know it was there. It must hang out with guilt, shame and other emotions that rarely make appearances in my every-day life), and said, “No! ON THE CHEEK!” and turned my face to his mouth.

I mean, really. Whiskey tango foxtrot was I thinking. Since when, SINCE WHEN, do I turn down a harmless little saliva swap with a hot Italian man. Was it the fact that I knew the picture of me locking lips with this CM would end up being plastered all over the Internet? (and let’s all take a mental inventory of pictures you’ve seen of people kissing and try to think of one where either participant was in a flattering angle) Was it the fact that I was in Disney and felt that such licentious behavior should not be tolerated, and perhaps Mickey was watching? Was I hesitant to lose any smidgen of respect that I had gained from my new friends? (Because you know, I had gained all that respect by volunteering with two hands to be Team Kisser and Team Beer Drinker ). Is it possible that after all these years, the preaching, hand-slapping and mouth-washing-out that my mother has impaled on me in the form of five years of Mrs. Cecelia Grimes’ etiquette training (I wish I was kidding: http://www.etiquettematters.com/youth.htm) has finally made an impression on my stubborn mass of a brain? Was I acutely aware that I smelled like an alcoholic and didn’t want to offend? I don’t know, but I do know that I’m sure I disappointed a lot of you Passporters that expected so much more from me, and I promise that next time that a hot Italian tries to make out with me, I will not let you down.

Either way, we did get a picture of the Italian CM kissing me on the cheek, and then we got a group shot with me kissing him on the cheek. Several group shots had to be taken, so I spent a good 45 seconds with my lips plastered to the side of his face, which was a-plenty of time for the regret to start to seep through my brain – it took all the willpower I could muster to not give him a smackeroo on the mouth.

The real kicker is that upon leaving Italy, I realized that someone had bought one of those dang limonchello Italian margarita things anyway, so I don’t think I even had to go about kissing anyone. This is the part where I pretend to be indignant. Actually, no – the gig is up, I was really happy that I got to smooch on a cute Italian and get a few slurps from a delicious fruity margarita “friend.”

I left most of the margarita to my Lush Club friends and took over the Sam Adams. I’m not even a big Sam Adams fan, but sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the good of the team.

Germany was next, and we stood in a little line to secure some German wine. You would think Germany = beer, but I think we were looking for something that everyone could enjoy, so went with wine. I have in my notes that we met another Passporter in that line, but I don’t remember who it was – if you’re out there, I’m sorry! At this point in the story, I’m sure you understand why my memory is failing. I also think this was when Karen noticed how tipsy I was getting and wondered how I was going to make my way back to the fam damily (neither of us came up with a good solution, by the way, except to just keep drinking). She joked that Mama was probably going to confiscate my Passporter boards password after this afternoon of debauchery.

I took a sip of the German wine as well, but left most it for the other girls. We only had three countries left, and knew we wanted to hit Mexico for a margarita and Norway for hot CMs, so China was our last food-stop. We were able to get a side order of egg rolls for a cheap price, and someone didn’t like egg rolls, so everyone got half of one. At this point, that half of an egg roll was one of the best things I had ever tasted – I was so hungry and all the booze sloshing around in my system was crying out for something fried to soak up some of the beer. I think it was time for everyone to have a little somethin’ to offset the al-kee-hol because someone may or may not have started doing dirty things with the egg rolls.

We took a bathroom break (which took me longer than usual, as the stall was spinning slightly at this point) and then set our sights on finding a handsome Norwegian CM to harass. After deciding that planting a wet one on the troll didn’t count, we continued to peruse the store. We had gathered in a corner to discuss our options and accidentally blocked in an unsuspecting husband. His wife spotted him and yelled out, “GEORGE! What are you doing over there with all those women?” He sheepishly made his way out our way before we recruited him for a smooch.

As Eileen and I made our way towards the front of the store, we passed a boy trailing his mom and he definitely had his whiney-pants on. We overheard him saying, “But MOM! If I don’t buy something, I’ll never remember I was here!” Eileen let out a huge guffaw, which got me to laughing and we almost passed by the cute CM that we had taken note of earlier. He was engrossed in conversation with some female CMs, but I figured he wouldn’t mind an interruption of this nature.

At this point, I had even more liquid confidence built up in my system, so it was with an extra sashay in my step that I approached him with my Danish card. I dazzled him with my smile and said in my best faux-coy voice, “I have this card and I can’t read it – would you read it for me?” I think I twirled my hair and giggled as well. Well, let’s just say that I might as well have tried my charms on that troll as it was totally wasted on Havard, the Norwegian CM. Despite the fact that he was dressed in his uniform and wearing his nametag, he hardly glanced my way before saying, “I’m off duty.” Just like that! Well, I never.

Okay, shake it off. Maybe he misunderstood me. I’m not easily daunted, and obviously he didn’t realize the bonus he was going to receive from this deal. I tried again: “Really, I don’t need anything from you; I just want you to read this.” I think at this point he kind of rolled his eyes and said something in a language I don’t understand to another CM, who came over to help us. This new guy was less cute, but slightly more friendly – and after hearing Eileen’s story of the chubby Alice, I almost retracted that statement, but decided not to, as he being rude and uncooperative cancels out any biting of tongue on my part. Anyway, he wasn’t much help as he didn’t speak Danish, which was what the card was written in. I don’t remember if we handed him the English card or if Havard finally came over to help him, but they stood there for a minute talking to each other in a language I didn’t understand. Obviously, they were not as excited at the prospect of kissing any one of us as my Italian CM was. Oh, how I miss those undiscerning Italians.

Finally, exasperated and a little embarrassed, we just requested a picture with them. At this point, I was about ready to tell them to forget it and just point me in the direction of their cheapest Norwegian alcoholic beverage, as I figured we’d get a much warmer reception from those Latin American hotties in Mexico. Anyway, they did take the picture, and in it, I tried to sneak in a kissy face towards the CM but I’m not sure if it turned out or not.

Finally, we had made it to Mexico and used the very last of our monies to purchase a margarita. I believe someone else also purchased a margarita, and we made our way over near the Cantina. Karen produced our prizes for completing the mission – margarita glasses with “Epcot Lush Club – Charter Member” engraved on them. Considering all the fun and drinks that I’d already had, there was really no need to provide gifts, but Karen is all generous and sweet like that. We split the margaritas up into our new glasses and took a group picture, which I distinctly remember Eileen showing me and us laughing at how completely trashed I looked.

We enjoyed a few more minutes of drinking and chatting, and it was all too soon that we all had to go separate ways. I have to say that this was probably the most fun afternoon I’ve ever had in Disney, and I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. All these ladies are one-of-a-kind and we had a blast!

Up Next: Trying to remove my drunk self from Epcot.

[BelmontBelle]

Sounds like a fun afternoon was had by all! I hope that one of the other ladies posted some pictures of your adventures. Good luck making your way out of Epcot!

[Colexis Mom]

Wow Scarlett What an afternoon I'm glad you guys had a great time on your LUSH tour Sorry the guys in Norway were less than accomodating Great times, great drinks, great friends