Saturday, May 14, 2011
I am sitting by the pool at the Sheraton Park Anaheim. Southern California has dished up a heapin’ helpin of hospitality, weather-wise, and because it’s a Thursday afternoon I can count my poolside pals on two hands. That’s if you don’t count two young boys who are about to be rushed to the hospital for chlorinated water inhalation, the result of a vodka-swilling woman who appeared to be placidly typing away on her laptop, suddenly leaping into the water, holding their heads under water screaming, ”I don’t know which one of you is Marco, but I can assure you Polo is the next to go!” With black mascara dripping down her cheeks, her black bathing suit doing its best to be ‘slimming’ and the scent of Absolut Citron flying out of her face like so much sea spray she belted out the finest version of “Those Poor Unfortunate Souls” this poolside lounger has ever heard. I particularly like the spot-on sinister laugh of Disney’s evil sorceress, Ursula. It was so good I almost spilled Citron on my laptop.