Why *Not* to Engage Autopilot Around Overzealous Asians

I have had this problem where I haven't been able to get to bed before 6am in the past week or so...

So... let's just sufice to say that it's now 3:36am... and I have to work in the morning... just before 8am.

Ouch.

But... on the upside, I'm at the Studios doing characters plus parade... and we'll just say that I'm not only allowed to... but I'm *supposed* to drag ass, all day...

Only at Disney.

So... tonight, I worked at the Magic Kingdom doing SpectroMagic.

Yay!

And I was riding a float... so I didn't have to walk or anything...

So... I'm in Frontierland during the second parade... and I'm going about my merry little way in my routine... doing the same thing for the 27th time in a row...

At this point, I'm on autopilot, so I was actually contemplating what I was going to eat for dinner and thinking about what I need to buy when I go to WalMart...

For whatever reason, I actually, for a couple seconds, was giving thought to the routine that I was doing...

Well... there's this one part of the routine where I look to the opposite side of the float and since I'm leaning to that side, I do a little kick-type thing...

Thank the good Lord that I actually was paying attention to the task at hand, as I looked over to the outside, where I would normally do the kick... and I saw the rope.

Seeing the rope isn't a big deal...

But when it's approximately six inches from the edge of the float... it becomes an issue.

You see... many of the floats in this parade are wide... and the streets are narrow...

Well, as it turned out, after talking to the float driver, he, too, was on autopilot.

Right-o.

I quickly assessed the situation.

Had I kicked out to the side, I definitely would have kicked the rope... which was actually an amusing prospect at the moment...

I was, however, at an angle that I probably would have gotten my ankle caught in the rope and been pulled off the float and run over by a crazy float driver behind us...

But... the I kinda thought about the whole thing for a moment... I could just see the headlines...

"Parade performer killed in freak accident involving a kick and a runaway float."

It would've been an interesting story for the morning news.

But... I didn't do it.

Now... as I continued on my routine, approximately four counts later, I saw the cutest little Asian couple standing by the rope.

In typical fashion, the male was holding a video camera with one hand and waving with the other... and the woman was standing there, with the biggest smile you could ever imagine, waving both of her hands wildly in the air.

I must say that I truly enjoy these couples. They are always the best people to be in costume around. They are totally appreciative and respectful of the characters. And they're just so happy... it's really contagious... which just makes my job *that* much easier.

Especially after a long ass day of whining children and stupid parents.

But... I digress...

Anyhow... sometimes... they get a *little* too... well... excited.

I continued along with the routine... and there were these two counts where we let go of the prop on the float... which is normally no problem.

Until the overzealous Asian women actually grabbed my leg.

That's right... the float is tearing along down the street... granted... a little close to the people stading at the rope... but the woman...

Grabbed.

My.

Leg.

Now... as a performer on a giant four ton moving object, it's a little intimidating... especially when you're not strapped in... and then you have to rely on only your balance on your two feet, while going over cobblestone and train tracks... it's really really unnerving when a random excited guest grabs your leg.

As my hands quickly returned to my prop, thoughts of the freak accident news story flashed back into my head.

"Perfomer killed in freak accident by overzealous Asian woman and four ton float."

Right-o.

Reason number seven-hundred twenty-four why autopilot should be used with caution.

And this entry is quickly becoming reason number thirty-seven that I'm going to be a cranky bitch at work, tomorrow.

God save the children.

later, kids...

~robert