Go ahead. Try to tell us that you don’t break out in a cold sweat at the mere thought of being stranded on Disneyland’s “Small World” ride. Try to tell us the sound of that annoying song doesn’t fill you with a terror unlike any other.
Time Newsfeed has the details:
A quadriplegic man is suing Disneyland after being stranded on the “It’s A Small World” ride for more than 40 minutes during an evacuation.
Jose Martinez is suing the “Happiest Place on Earth” for negligence, emotional distress and liability, claiming that after the famous ride stalled, Disney staff evacuated other passengers, while leaving him and his wife behind.
The lawsuit, which was filed in U.S. District Court by the Disability Rights Legal Center on behalf of Martinez, claims that Disney violated the Americans with Disabilities Act by not having proper procedures in place to evacuate disabled passengers. Martinez also alleges that Disney staffers refused to call the paramedics after the stress of the situation caused his blood pressure to rise.
We pause now for another one of those mildly amusing stories from the Editor’s sordid past:
When I was about 17, my dad’s Rotary Club paid for a group of local Cub Scouts to attend Disneyland’s annual Scout Day extravaganza. My dad decided it would be a character building experience if I were to pack my car full of Cubbies and drive them to the amusement park. The good news was that he paid for my ticket, too.
It was not only the middle of summer, but a particularly hot Southern California day. No, that doesn’t quite describe it. It was freakin’ torrid. Steaming. Hotter than hell. And I was in this amusement park with 10,000 screaming little scouts.
It was fun for a while, but as the temperature soared I desperately began searching for a place – any place – out of the sun. Then I thought of “It’s A Small World.” I handed over what I remember as a “C” coupon (c’mon, It’s A Small World couldn’t have been more than a “C” coupon) and boarded my boat for a short cruise through the air-conditioned building. Life was going to be good for the next seven or eight minutes.
Then, halfway through the ride, the boats ground to a halt. Cool, I thought. Figuratively and literally. I’ll get a few extra minutes in here out of the heat.
Unfortunately, the minutes dragged on. And on. And friggin’ on. I was forced to sit there with a boatload of heat-crazed, screaming Cub Scouts waiting for the ride to start up again.
But the sound of the screaming Scouts was nothing, a mere distraction. The real problem was that damn song. Those friggin’ little foreign-dressed figures kept singing “It’s A Small World” over and over and over again, searing it into my brain, driving me ever close to that fine line between sanity and lunacy.
Eventually – I lost track of time, but it must have been three or four days – they fixed the ride and we completed our circuit of “It’s A Small World.”
To this day, though, I hate that damn song. Absolutely hate it. It’s like fingernails on a chalkboard to me.
So, Mr. Jose Martinez, I completely understand why you’re suing Disneyland. I hope you take ‘em to the cleaners. I hope you win so much money that they’re forced to change the name of the place to JoseLand.
That’s what I hope.
Source: Time
