We are at a theme park. It’s a hot day in the UK – 30°C, which is classed as a heatwave. My son usually gets a ride access pass (like the British version of DAS), but they’ve just changed the system, and we didn’t manage to get a ticket. Because of this, we are queuing.

Luckily, the queues aren’t very long, but on the water ride, it was thirty-five minutes. Five minutes in, we notice that somebody in the group ahead of us is telling two women to join them.

Queue jumping is not accepted under any circumstances in this theme park, and my twelve-year-old son tells them they can’t do that.

“It’s only us”, they say, waving their hand to shoo him away, and cut in front of us anyway. My son looks very irritated at this, but then lets it go, and we queue as usual.

Once we got to the front of the queue, my son very calmly told the attendant that this woman had cut in.

My boy had let the women queue for thirty-five minutes, thinking they had won, only for them to be removed from the ride as they were about to step on to it.

I used to work at a space-themed restaurant in a theme park. The entrance included a dramatic journey is a space elevator that took you from the ground on Earth up into orbit. Once in the restaurant, you’re surrounded by giant ‘windows’ into space, showing the spinning earth below.

A customer (the dad of a family) approaches me as they’re leaving for the ‘elevator’ and asks:

Customer: “How’d they keep the gravity running?”

I laugh and stay in character, explaining that we utilize some science-fiction-sounding advanced tech.

Customer: “Oh, that’s really interesting. How come they don’t use that on the NASA space station?”

It dawns on me that this guy is being serious. Thankfully for me (and my ability to stay in character), it dawns on his family too.

Customer’s Teen Son: “Dad, do… do you actually think we’re in space?”

Customer: “Uh… have you seen the windows?!”

Customer’s Teen Son: “They’re screens, Dad. It’s like a giant screen.”

Customer: “What… really?!”

Customer’s Teen Son: “Oh my God, Dad!”

Customer’s Wife: “Oh, dear… no.”

Customer: “Well, they shouldn’t be lying like that! That’s dishonest!”

Customer’s Teen Son: “And you think Sleeping Beauty is really sleeping in the castle we just passed this morning?!”

The dad is glaring at his family, but is silent. At this point, I would usually say “have a safe trip down to planet Earth” or something like that, but in this instance, I deem it best to just smile and say goodbye. As they’re leaving.

Customer’s Teen Son: “Let’s go to the Star Wars ride next. I wanna see if Dad thinks we’re really piloting the Millennium Falcon.”

Customer: “Shut up.”

I have decided to share the final straw in my marriage with my ex-husband, which happened when the two of us went to [Famous Theme Park] with my eight-year-old son.

I happen to use a wheelchair, and navigating through crowded places can be very dangerous. For those who have never experienced it, just imagine that my head is at the level where people’s backpacks and bags can hit me. Some people try to cut in front of me instead of waiting for a second or two for me to pass, assuming I can just stop on a dime. I have collided with people’s legs and nearly had them fall on top of me several times.

My ex-husband is an impatient man who stands 6’2″ tall, so his strides are long and allow him to cover ground quickly. If I couldn’t keep up, he would just zoom off ahead, leaving me to struggle in his wake. He refused to slow down for me, so we would never go anywhere together. He would go ahead and then have to wait for me to catch up. Naturally, our son also couldn’t keep up, so he had to wait for both of us at the park. He saw no reason to travel at a pace that we all could maintain; he would just snap at us to stop being so slow.

We were there for ourselves, but mostly for our son, as it was his first trip. My son wanted to go on one ride, but my ex-husband wanted to go on a different one. Since we were there for my son’s enjoyment, I cast my vote in his favor, and I even tried reasoning with my ex-husband that we could go on the ride he wanted afterward.

Instead, my ex furiously stormed off to get in line for his ride, leaving us behind. He yelled over his shoulder that we could catch up when we were done being selfish.

Son: “You know what? Let him go off and be by himself.”

Me: “Are you sure?”

Son: “Dad doesn’t want to lead or protect you, Mom. It’s my turn. We don’t need him.”

I was feeling a mix of sadness and pride all at once, when it suddenly hit me. My elementary-school-aged son was a better man than the one I was married to.

Instead of allowing my ex to belittle and disrespect us, we chose to go our own way. At 8 years old, my son wasn’t that tall, but he made sure people kept their bags away from my head. We enjoyed rides and had fun together, walking at our own pace. It took my ex over three hours to find us again.

My ex and I divorced a few years after that trip; it was a lengthy process, as my ex made it difficult and dragged it out.

He remarked to my son as he finally left the house:

Ex: “You’re going to be the man of the house now. Think you’re able to do that?” 

Son: “I’ve been the man of this house since you failed to be, starting when I was eight. I think I’ve got this.”

My ex later told me that those were the harshest words anyone had ever said to him.

Now, my son is sixteen. He grew up to be an amazing young man, and I am blessed to have him.

I work in a Star Wars-themed bar, inside a Star Wars-themed region of a world-famous theme park, called The Cantina. This place requires advanced registrations and is extremely hard to get into thanks to how popular and oversubscribed it is. Not only that but once you’re inside your table is allotted a limited time, and the drinks (while IMHO are genuinely creative and tasty) are vastly overpriced. As a result, you have to go above and beyond to make sure the guests have the best time while there. 

I am working at the entrance, managing the line, staying in character, and making sure everyone that is there is on the list. A group of four guys seem especially excited to be there.

Customer #1: “We’re looking for somebody.”

Me: *Staying in character.* “Oga’s Cantina is the galaxy’s premier wretched hive for scum and villains, if that matches who you’re looking for you’re bound to find them here!”

Customer #2: “We’re looking for somebody who might have been wearing one of these.”

All four of them reveal that they have ‘Star Trek’ style communication badges under their jackets.

Me: *Leaning in, still staying in character.* “Are you guys from the Prime Universe?! The portal between the continuities is supposed to be a secret! Put those things away or you’ll blow my cover!”

All four of them are bouncing between shock at my sudden character shift, and smiling at my ability to switch between the franchises.

Me: “Tell Admiral Jellico and the rest of those Starfleet idiots that they’ll hear from me when my mission is done, but if they keep sending in away teams like you guys every time I miss a mission check-in because some crazy empire blew up the planet I was hiding out on, then they’re going to be the main reason my mission fails! So I would recommend all of you pretend you belong, order your drinks, and report back to Starfleet that I’ll report back when I am ready. Got it?”

Customers #1-4: “Uh… got it.”

Me: *Back to smiles.* “Wonderful! So, what can I get you guys? And no, no Romulan Ale.”

They were all smiles for the rest of the time drinking there.

I’m in a very long line for the ladies’ room at a popular theme park. The protocol (just in case someone out there isn’t aware) is that when you get to the front of the line, you look for an empty stall or someone just leaving a stall, and then you beeline to the available stall to keep the line moving.

When I finally get to the front of the line, I see an unoccupied stall to my left near the front with the door open, so I head inside.

I close the stall door to do my business, and I see a jacket hanging on the little hook on the back of the door. Uh-oh, some theme park guest has hurriedly exited the stall and forgotten their jacket! Oh, well, just let me use the toilet real quick, and then I’m sure they’ll come back for it once they realize.

I begin unbuttoning my pants to do my business when there’s a sudden and frantic knocking on the stall door. I quickly rebutton my pants and open the door to find a middle-aged woman trying to push her way into the very small stall with me still in it.

Woman: “My stuff is in here!”

Ah, the mystery owner of the forgotten jacket.

Me: “Oh, here you go.”

I take the jacket from the hook and try to hand it to her, and I see that there was also a bag hanging under the jacket.

Woman: “No, I’m using the toilet.”

Me: *Confused* “What?”

Woman: “I’m still using the toilet. I left my stuff in here because I’m still using it.”

Me: “The stall was vacant, and there was no one around. You can’t just call dibs on a stall by leaving your stuff inside and then walking away. This is a theme park. It’s busy.”

Woman: “I’m still using it! My stuff is in here!”

She was actively trying to get into the stall with me still in it, completely ignoring what I was saying. I figured this was a hill I would rather not die on, so I relented and let her have “her” bathroom stall.

I stepped out, and now I felt weird; even though the bathroom line had moved during this interaction, and I was technically ahead of everyone, I still felt like I was cutting in line when I had to go back out and wait again at the front.

Thankfully, another stall opened up within seconds of my stepping back out into the bathroom, and I used that one.

Just… the nerve of someone thinking they could reserve a bathroom stall in a busy theme park with a line literally out the door, just by leaving their belongings inside and then disappearing. Ugh.