I rock back and forth, balancing my posture on my toes first and then heels. The fidgeting feeling travels beyond my lower limbs, though, and begins to creep into my fingers. I try to still my digits by clasping my hands behind my back, and this does seem to help quiet my overly excited body to some degree.
It is difficult to see much through the mass of people, but I crane my neck to get a good look at the lobby. As I piece together the fractured scenery between the heads that tower over my slight 5’2” NDM frame, I make out a beautiful mural on the wall behind the check-in counter. It portrays colorful beachfront homes, a lighthouse and some docked boats in a coastal setting. The colors are bright, yet they induce a sense of ease and care-free living. In the foreground, actual lampposts catch my eye. Then I realize that in a clever move of interior design, Disney has mounted these appliances at each hotel clerk’s post. It is one of those special touches that make Disney stand out among its competitors in the aspect of theming.
I close my eyes and focus on the Jimmy Buffett song I faintly hear beyond the murmur of chit-chat. As I imagine being immersed within Key West, I can almost smell the ocean.
My smile has now become a permanent fixture on my face. My cheeks burn from being held in a contracted position, but I can’t help their discomfort. This is a moment in my life that I will always retain, and my grin is an inevitable response.
A cheerful Cast Member, dressed as a beach attendant, begins handing out folders with resort information tucked inside. I am handed my very own Pluto-clad portfolio, and I beam as I read the “Welcome Home” message scripted across the cover. My guess is that due to the length of the wait, this folder was given to provide me with reading material while I bide my time in line as well as make the check-in process move a tad more quickly.
In order to enhance this special moment, I decide that I should strike up a conversation with another happy vacationer. “Have you been here before,” I ask the woman in front of me. My excessive amount of perkiness would even shame the High School Musical pep squad, but it seems to come naturally to me as I stand in the middle of Key West bliss. She looks down her perfectly constructed nose at me, gives me a “once-over” glance, and haughtily says, “No.” Her condescending tone catches me off guard. Suddenly, I am cognizant of the fact that she is an actual Disney Vacation Club Member, and I have now betrayed the reality that I am not with my embarrassing amount of enthusiasm.
My smile immediately transforms into a humbled expression. My eyes dart from side to side to see if anyone else has noticed the fact that this silicon-implanted female has just verbally undressed me with one word. I feel completely naked as a non-Disney Vacation Club Member in the middle of a Disney Vacation Club Resort. My acute self-awareness has left me feeling like a sham . . . a poser. Sheepishly I chuckle, “Oh. This is my first time.” She looks at me with a knowing smirk and says, “Yes.” I gulp and feel my pride being swallowed along with my saliva. Is there somewhere for me to hide?
In addition to feeling bare as a result of my diminished vacationer status, I now feel naked upon the realization that I’m not holding a credit card. Since DH is the credit card keeper, his presence becomes necessary as I find myself getting closer to our check-in opportunity. I catch DH’s gaze and motion that he should arise from the striped sofa and join me in line.
We find ourselves poised behind the line’s last boundary. In a brief moment we will be invited to approach the check-in counter with a cordial, “May I help you?” As we continue to wait, I look to my immediate left. Marking this threshold of vacation initiation is a sign that states: Welcome Home Disney Vacation Club Members. Once again, it brings to my attention that I am a fraud, assuming a position in a Disney Vacation Club Member line when I have not put my signature on a DVC deed. This is not actually “my home away from home.” Instead, I am merely enacting some queer form of breaking and entering. I shrink away from the sign and accidentally bump into DH’s side. As I demurely apologize for my imposing existence, DH looks at me curiously. I am not usually a NDM that presents as meek and mild, so he is slightly alarmed by my changed demeanor. He asks, “Are you OK?” Averting my eyes from him, I softly speak, “I’m fine.”
A beach attendant looks up from her post and waves for us to join her. I follow behind DH, watching my feet and not daring to look at the others whom still stand in line. DH motions that I should begin speaking with the hostess and acquire our accommodations, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I am far too nervous about the DVC intrusion I am about to commit. DH looks at me with a furrowed brow, shakes his head in confusion and takes over the dialogue.
I stand in agony while the sweet beach attendant goes over each item in our Disney Vacation Club folder with DH. Due to us booking our reservation under the name and ID number of Bill.Knows.Disney, our driver’s licenses must have given away the fact that that we are not true members . . . that we are merely renting DVC points. I’m sure this endearing Cast Member is aware of our fraudulent activities, yet she continues to treat us with the utmost respect. The guilt builds inside me with every kind gesture she extends. I fear I may burst.
When she finally wraps up our check-in formalities with the friendly phrase, “Welcome Home,” I can stand it no longer. I break my silence with the confession I feel compelled to announce. “We aren’t members. We are just wanna-bees,” I blurt.
I dare to look upon her face in that moment and am met with a strange expression in which I can’t quite read a meaning. A nervous giggle escapes my throat. I blush in an awkwardly shy manner. Then quicker than any woman with plastic body parts could say “botox,” I grab DH’s hand and make a quick exit with my family.
JeniLynn was born and raised in South Florida. Being so close to Walt Disney World, she grew up regularly visiting the Mouse and developed a fascination with the creativity of Disney Parks. Noticing that her happiest moments seemed to always take place in Walt Disney World, JeniLynn began trying to recreate the magic of Disney in her everyday life beginning in her pre-teen years. Adulthood, sixteen years of marriage, and three children later, JeniLynn continues to lead a Disney Driven Life and diligently works to pass her love for Disney on to her husband and children. She has blogged for Touring Plans and been a contributing writer for The Unofficial Guide to Walt Disney World, and she currently co-hosts Orlando Attractions Magazine: The Show; however, her primary focus has always been with the community that has grown around her own site, The Disney Driven Life. Through these venues JeniLynn strives to help other Disney fans stay connected to the brand that has served as a keystone in her family’s life.
Ah, but NDM#1, how would experience have been different if you had turned and found me there. “Why, yes, this is our home resort and we’re here at least once a year. How about you? First time here?”
Then you would have confessed that it was not only your first time here, but that you were renting points. To which I would have said, “well, you’ll be hooked after you stay here. Welcome Home!”
Ah, but NDM#1, how would experience have been different if you had turned and found me there. “Why, yes, this is our home resort and we’re here at least once a year. How about you? First time here?”
Then you would have confessed that it was not only your first time here, but that you were renting points. To which I would have said, “well, you’ll be hooked after you stay here. Welcome Home!”
JL, I know it certainly wasn’y funny to you as it was happening- but I am rolling on the floor laughing. I could actually picture you grabbing your DH’s hand and running away blushing.
Too bad you were in line behind a snob, most DVC members are more like John P, than like that woman. I have been a member since 2001, and I still get excited like an 8 year old upon check-in, and start small talk with everyone on lime with me 🙂
JL, I know it certainly wasn’y funny to you as it was happening- but I am rolling on the floor laughing. I could actually picture you grabbing your DH’s hand and running away blushing.
Too bad you were in line behind a snob, most DVC members are more like John P, than like that woman. I have been a member since 2001, and I still get excited like an 8 year old upon check-in, and start small talk with everyone on lime with me 🙂
Hey 🙂
Great Story
Hey 🙂
Great Story
You are so right, John. It would have been totally different. Unfortunately, though, this was my first run-in with a DVC member on my visit (and I have to admit that I have run into a few more from time to time online in DVC forums that can be rather brutal with their “I’m superior” and “I’m entitled” attitude).
But I believe that these people are the minority. Most DVC members that I have met since then are incredibly nice and pleasant (such as yourself and Mary). And now I am one . . . hooray! But I don’t want to get ahead of my story, that part in the tale is yet to come.
You are so right, John. It would have been totally different. Unfortunately, though, this was my first run-in with a DVC member on my visit (and I have to admit that I have run into a few more from time to time online in DVC forums that can be rather brutal with their “I’m superior” and “I’m entitled” attitude).
But I believe that these people are the minority. Most DVC members that I have met since then are incredibly nice and pleasant (such as yourself and Mary). And now I am one . . . hooray! But I don’t want to get ahead of my story, that part in the tale is yet to come.
Sad, really, when you think of it. That botox bimbo was there, standing smack dab in the middle of the HAPPIEST place on earth, and yet she can’t even muster a sense of common courtesy? She needs to learn the meaning of the word grateful. Not everyone is as fortunate as herself yet somehow we all get the concept of manners.
Like I said…sad.
Sad, really, when you think of it. That botox bimbo was there, standing smack dab in the middle of the HAPPIEST place on earth, and yet she can’t even muster a sense of common courtesy? She needs to learn the meaning of the word grateful. Not everyone is as fortunate as herself yet somehow we all get the concept of manners.
Like I said…sad.