I once heard a guy tell a story...

He was in Minneapolis and called a friend in Los Angeles in the morning. Friend was at Disneyland. It was about zero degrees in Minn and 75 in LA. Minn guy decides, what the hell, screw this, I'm going to Disneyland.

So he gets a taxi to the airport, buys a ticket and climbs on the next airplane going to John Wayne Airport in Orange County CA. He makes his way to Disneyland. He meets his friend -- it's several hours later but the guy is still there.

He lugs around his Minneapolis coat for a couple of hours, then decides to hell with that, too, and he stuffs it into the trash in a bathroom. With his friend he goes looking for a place to sit down and relax for a while.

And he happened upon the only place in Disneyland that served alcohol. Well, DAMN! Disneyland and drinks! So he sat there and had one after another... finally the waiter told him, "I'm sorry, sir, I can't serve you any more."

Minn guy sat there bummed out for a few minutes, then realized I'VE BEEN CUT OFF AT DISNEYLAND!

He then made it his life's goal to get cut off at every Disney park he could get to....


(The more I wrote this down, the less probable it sounded. But I heard it told like it really happened.)