Imagine you’re sitting on a bus to Disneyworld and you notice the person next to you is packing a bow and arrow. That happened to me. Actually, we were on one of those little ferries, which goes from a Disney-owned hotel across a lake to an “exclusive” back entrance, this one to the Epcot theme park in Orlando, Florida. My wife and kids were in another set of seats on the ferry, so I had the good fortune of sharing a seat bench with this tall redheaded lady.

She was armed to the teeth.

I didn’t alert the boat pilot or call the police. In fact, I had a hard time stifling a laugh. This woman must have been in her late 30s and she was holding a plastic toy bow with a quiver of toy arrows. They were suction-cup arrows.

Source: Merida bow and arrow set on Amazon.

You can tell when someone is carrying their child’s toys. That was not the case here. This woman was alone and these were her toys. How did I know? By the way she held them and the costume-style clothing that she was wearing.

When the ferry landed at the back gate of Epcot, there was a rush to disembark. I found my wife and kids. We stood in line, which was mercifully short at this “exclusive” back entrance for those staying at a Disney-owned hotel (thank goodness my employer was footing most of that bill; conferences are great sometimes).

Then we had our bag checked, went through the security scan, and presented our tickets or passes or armbands or whatever. Epcot is big. We got a map and had to re-pack our bag, so we took a few moments to look over the map and decide where we were going. Right or left?

Epcot Map. Source: Disneyworld Parks.

We tried right. And about 100 yards in front of us, we saw a real-life Disney Princess (as real as they come, at least). But before we could get to her, a small crowd stampeded in front of us and formed up a line. I have two daughters and some of their friends make a point of going to Disney parks to get all the princesses’ autographs. My kids don’t care about meeting the characters.

I mean, they really don’t care. The first time we went to Disneyland, my kids met Tinkerbell. They were the age when they were watching a lot of fairy movies. One of them dressed as Tinkerbell for Halloween. I tried really hard not to ruin the experience by making fun of it, even though I think the whole Disney thing is rather idiotic. I didn’t say anything negative and I even tried to play up the experience of them getting to meet “Tink”.

Tinkerbell and Silvermist characters at a Disney park. Source: Creative Commons via Flickr by Jennie Park.

But then both of my kids told me after meeting Tinkerbell that she was a fake. And I was proud of them; that doesn’t take a genius, since the “real” characters are animated on a screen. But other parents somehow want their kids to think it’s real. I won’t bother.

My kids want to go on rides at these parks. They don’t give a s*** about fake princesses and fairies. So since that first visit, we hadn’t wasted much time waiting for Disney characters, though we’d met a few on our way through the parks.

So this time, we were in a short line waiting for the Scottish girl from the movie Brave. Her name is Merida, though I always think of a city in Mexico when I read that name. Technically, she makes the cut as a Disney princess since her father was some sort of warlord or clan leader.

Merida’s father. Or bear. Source: Disney.

My kids didn’t like Brave. The younger one cried when the bear attacked someone. Or maybe it was the princess’ father that scared her, since that guy looked and talked like a bear, too. The older one agreed she’d rather watch something else. We never finished the movie.

My wife and I tried to convince them we should stay in line to meet this princess. She’s right here, so let’s just get our picture taken with one. We waited. The line moved pretty quickly. And then the line stopped cold because the person two spots in front of us reached the front. Guess who?

It was my seat companion from the ferry. Minus her quiver of arrows, which security must have confiscated. If so, I was sorry I had missed that exchange.

Merida character. Source: Disneyworld Parks.

“Oh, Merida,” she gushed to the character actress. “You’re my favorite princess!” she exclaimed loudly. And I realized then where I had seen her costume before. SHE was dressed as Merida, too, complete with the red hair and arsenal. In her case, I don’t think the hair was a wig, but maybe dyed.

“You showed such courage! When you did (this or that) in the movie Brave , you proved to me how I can overcome my issues (insert her much longer personal story here, which I do not recall). You’re my role model! I’ve been waiting to meet you for so long.”

Oh….my…goodness.

Source: Peanuts, United Feature Syndicate.

The poor Merida princess actress seemed shell-shocked, though maybe they’re trained to wear that slightly shocked and smiley expression. She tried to look past this lady to the next person waiting to meet her in line, but the wannabe princess then explained how far she had travelled for this moment.

They took the pictures next. This was a couple of years before people started videoing their whole lives. And the visitor began asking Merida questions about how she handles various problems.

This lady’s questions became quite detailed and clearly she wanted to know how Merida the princess would address each situation. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one in line wondering if this woman knew the character in front of her was not the REAL Merida. The cartoon character was her role model, not this actress, who had not lived through any of the story personally.

The staff was missing in action. Most of the characters have handlers who keep the lines moving. But for some reason, Brave didn’t have an escort. Maybe she brought her own bow and arrow.

I would have laughed at this whole scene, but my wife and I were sorry that our kids had to witness a grown woman using a Disney princess/actress as a psychologist. Finally, she moved on. I didn’t see her again, so I don’t know whether she took her bow and arrow through the park or just went home after that one meaningful interaction.

My kids met the princess and we took pictures. They really didn’t care. It was 15 minutes they could have spent on a ride. Nevertheless, the Merida character/actress was very nice to them and my kids came away feeling good to have met one of the princesses. In fact, I was impressed at the job she had done handling her biggest fan. Being a fake princess is not as easy as it looks. Merida did it well.

Later on, I thought back to this scene and came around to a more charitable view. It’s easy to make fun of people, but we all have our own issues. Who am I to say that paying to go to a Disney park to meet a fake princess makes any less sense than seeing a therapist? Some people use their pets as shrinks and others use bartenders. An AI program can do a decent job if it simply alternates saying “Yes”, “Good”, and “How does that make you feel?” between long pauses for the patient’s narrative.

I’m sure these Disney characters are quite accustomed to such displays. And maybe that’s a good reason to have these characters milling about the parks, cruise ships, and hotels that Disney runs.

Adults need them, too. Disney is a big part of some peoples’ lives. I used to work with a guy who made a trip to Disneyland every December to buy a new commemorative Christmas ornament. He always raved about those cinnamon-scented fake snowflakes.

Why is that any sillier than the things that make me feel good? It isn’t. I should be less judgmental and open my mind to happiness in whatever form it takes. Laugh at me if you want. On that same trip, I saw a famous rap singer in an elevator and tried to impress him by quoting lyrics from a song that wasn’t his. We all have issues and do stupid things.

Thank you, Mother Theresa; that’s a fair point. What if we enjoy telling stories about interesting people without laughing at them, just laughing with them and enjoying life? Is that OK to do if we don’t judge? Or am I just trying to whitewash the fact that I’m a jerk?

When everyone is a unique individual, I think that makes life much more entertaining. And it wouldn’t be as fun if couldn’t amuse ourselves. I hope I still have room to love.

Thumbnail image source: Creative Commons via Flickr by Loren Javier