Or something like that in five-year-old speak. Dude, I said to myself, this is the shit. In English, Spanish, Swahili, and Japanese? Then you’re put into this floating barge and set adrift on a river that winds through a smiling underworld of animatronic kids from every country on the planet singing along in their various native tongues to the extremely catchy, upbeat song.ĭid I mention it’s about a ten-minute ride? Small World ride, brief sum-up: Long-ass wait in incredibly slow-moving line. Oh, right-so much we share, time aware, small world. Honestly, you won’t hurt my feelings, and I won’t tell the other people reading this what an asshole you are the minute you go into the other room. I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced the Small World ride.

That’s how we ended up on the subterranean It’s a Small World ride and how I nearly bit it at the place where America goes for fun. Even the stuffed animals started looking less like smiling, playful woodland creatures and more like furry POWs on a forced march through Toonland. The kind of hot that makes people shell out their life savings for a bottle of water without even bitching about it. I know what you’re thinking: WTF? Who dies at Disney World? It’s full of spinning teacups and magical princesses and big-assed chipmunks walking around waving like it’s absolutely normal for jumbo-sized stuffed animals to come to life and pose for photo ops. Like Career Day? Really? Do we need to devote an entire six hours out of the high school year to having “life counselors” tell you all the jobs you could potentially blow at? Is there a reason for dodgeball? Pep rallies? Rad soda commercials featuring Parker Day’s smug, fake-tanned face? I ask you.īut back to the best day of my life, Disney, and my near-death experience. I’m sixteen now, so you can imagine that’s left me with quite a few days of major suckage. The best day of my life happened when I was five and almost died at Disney World.

Going Bovine by Libba Bray