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of the place. Granted, for nearly $900 a night, I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it was impressive. There was a huge living room with two sliding glass doors that opened up onto balconies which overlooked the lake outside, as well as The BoardWalk across the way. On the right was a wet bar and a half-bathroom, and then a sofa facing an armoire with a TV in it, next to which was a small dinette with a window that also looked out onto the lake. The entrance to my bedroom was on the right, too, before the sofa. I walked in and was happy at how bright and cozy it was. A big bed, another TV, a lounging sofa, and a balcony. On the right was the bathroom, which was done up in what looked like dark marble. Two sinks (with a little TV in between), the shitter in its own little room, a shower, and a Jacuzzi tub, which no doubt was going to get a lot of use.
    I pictured sitting in the Jacuzzi tub, watching The Disney Channel nonstop on the little TV, and sipping port or some shit like that. The idea of being able to relax, to do something like sitting in a bathtub all day, was really exciting. Was that sort of thing exciting to everyone? I had no idea. Man, I was out of touch, almost like I wasn’t even part of the human race anymore. I simply had no idea how normal people lived, or thought, or felt.
    So, I figured, why not go where the people were? I nearly sprinted out of the room, excited to see EPCOT Center, and most of all Horizons.
     

Chapter 7
     
    The walk from The Beach Club to EPCOT Center was fairly pleasant. I still remembered the route, and walked casually through the exit past the gift store, hung a right, and hung another right to end up on a trail that bordered what seemed to be swampland. There was a slight drop-off next to the sidewalk, into dense foliage that smelled vaguely of sulfur. I could hear things scurrying around down there, and saw some little lizards running across the path into the brush. Ah, Florida!
    The trail dumped out onto a wide pathway facing Crescent Lake. Ahead of me was The BoardWalk, on the right was The Swan and Dolphin, and on the left I spied The Eiffel Tower, not anywhere near scale, sticking out of the France pavilion in EPCOT Center.
    I bolted left to what’s known as the International Gateway, which was sort of the back entrance to EPCOT Center. I reached the ticket booth in no time flat. I didn’t notice the signage and logos that clearly stated this place was now called Epcot, not EPCOT Center.
    “One Annual Pass, please,” I said to the old lady in the booth.
    “Would you like the regular Annual Pass, or the Premium Annual Pass?” she asked.
    “Beats me. What’s the price difference?”
    “Well now, that depends,” she said. “Are you a Florida resident?”
    “Not yet!”
    “Okay, then. A regular will be four hundred and fifty two dollars.”
    “Christ, almighty.”
     “And the Premium is an additional one hundred and twenty dollars, which gives you unlimited access to our virtual theme park, DisneyQuest, as well as unlimited access to our amazing water parks, Typhoon Lagoon and Blizzard Beach.”
    “Okay, sure, fine. I don’t know what most of that stuff is, but whatever. Sold.” I paused as memories of going down water slides that winded through fake sculpted rocks near Bay Lake entered my mind. “Wait. You only mentioned two water parks. What happened to River Country?”
    “River Country has been closed for ages, sir.”
    “That sucks. I liked that place. My parents and I used to go there a lot.”
    “I’m sure you’ll enjoy the other water parks just as much. They’re very well themed!”
    I handed her my credit card and after a few minutes she handed me back a silver piece of plastic.
    “The gate is on your left. Enjoy your year of magic!” she exclaimed.
    I walked toward the gate, straight through the bag inspection area, which seemed a bit out of place at “The Happiest Place on Earth”, chose the turnstile on the far left, slid my card