Moving between the Disney parks was fairly easy. You just jump on a Disney bus and go. Getting to the parks was a little harder. Universal had proven simple, you book a ticket at hotel reception the night before and away you go the next morning but with Disney we decided to Uber.
It was night, we were exhausted and just wanted to go to bed.
“Welcome to tha Party Uber, hope you’re ready for it!” The rather excitable Driver wore a dark navy suit with a clip on tie, had light, wrinkled skin that looked like it had been pulled tightly around his face and he smiled with wild eyes as he roared out the Disney parking lot. His name escapes me but I do remember he had two grown children and came to Florida, with his now ex-wife, on holiday. They had like it so much they decided to stay, that was around thirty-five years ago. He had little quotes all over the dashboard and seem liked a fun guy. After a twenty minutes in the car you usually run out of small talk and once that happens peoples truth is usually revealed.
It started with some small jabbering about the new London Mayor and how ‘It’s crazy that someone like him got power’. like the Mayor had sized power in some sort of military coup. He was voted in through the democratic process, the people want him. Then the ‘Here in ‘merica we also have lots of ‘immigrants’ too” statement came, followed by the stereotypical “I just think if you’r gonna com to this country you ougtta stop waving your flag an thinkkin’ bout your own country and start wavin an American flag and think about this country!”. This kind of patriotism always seems to leak slowly into nationalism, which drips into this heightened sense of superiority and then undoubtedly slides into groups of delusional madmen marching across the earth eradicating anything they see unfit in their warped world view. Got to ‘make the world great again!’, I couldn’t look far enough out the window. There is nothing you can say to change some peoples minds and who I am to argue with a brick wall. He finished that brief, one-sided conversation by guaranteeing us that he definitely had no problems with Muslims. Clearly he doesn’t. That statement is only ever utter by people who defiantly don’t have any problems…
“So. Whats your view on Trump? What’s the UK thinkkin”. Come on! Not after that whole rant.
The question hung in the air, thick and weighted, smothering everyone in the car. Who in their right mind brings up politics in a car full of strangers? It’s a volatile subject around friends but now we’re am stuck in a confined, inescapable space, surrounded around by slow-moving vehicles, that could easily crush us, with a man who, in a state where there are at least 1,204,520 people allowed to carry a concealed weapon or firearm, could possibly be carrying a gun. What’s the answer that doesn’t get me dead. I can’t respond in truth? What a coward! There was a lot of murmuring, nothing too direct. A real set of political answering. Such poets sometimes.
“I tell you what, he’s got ma vote! I mean, I don’t agree with everythin he’s say’n but whats my other choice? A Woman!? No. Thank. You”. He turned to face his captives in the back seat, “I mean, no offence ladies but its hard work to run a country. You know whatta I mean?” I didn’t look back but I could feel the stares. Piercing and sharp. My internal screams were answered when the traffic broke. It was twenty more minutes of silence until we made it back to the hotel.