In these uncertain and trying times, it is beneficial to occasionally take a step back and marvel at someone with genuine First-World problems and a serious disconnect from reality.
Scott and Diana Anderson are an Arizona couple who, according to the Los Angeles Times, were visiting Disney 60 to 80 times per year. These pilgrimages to the original cathedral of Cult of the Mouse were running them approximately $125,000 yearly. That is a prodigious sum, but one must remember that it includes membership in Disney's prestigious Club 33. Club dues are $31,500 annually, which, incidentally, gets members VIP tours, access to special events, and exclusive dining and lounge perks. It took the couple more than ten years, but they finally made it into Disney's "cool kids club."
In 2017, Disney security guards claimed that they found Scott Anderson drunk on park property. The guards said they found him struggling to stand, slurring his speech, and smelling strongly of alcohol. Thus ended the Andersons' membership in Club 33.
Naturally, a lawsuit was filed. The Andersons and their lawyer maintain that there is no proof Scott was intoxicated since there are no videos, blood tests, or breathalyzer results. Instead, they argue that Scott's condition was the result of a vestibular migraine, which can be triggered by red wine. Scott Anderson reportedly downed some red that day. Their suit also states that the Andersons were targeted because they complained about a Club 33 employee harassing another member. Disney's council states that public intoxication is against club rules. In the past, Diana was suspended for dropping the f-bomb. The Andersons want Scott's name cleared, $10,500 for the unused membership, and $231,000. They also want to be reinstated.
“My wife and I are both dead set that this is an absolute wrong, and we will fight this to the death,” Scott, who owns a golf course in Gilbert, Ariz., told The Times. “There is no way we’re letting this go.”
He said the lawsuit has cost him about $400,000.
“My retirement is set back five years,” he said. “I’m paying through the nose. Every day, I’m seeing another bill, and I’m about to keel over.” He said he will appeal.
His wife said she wants to keep fighting.
“I’ll sell a kidney,” Diana said. “I don’t care.”
She would sell a kidney? An actual kidney? To get back into Club 33?
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It is hard to feel sorry for either party in this case. For reasons I don't even need to enumerate here, no love will be lost on the Disney Empire. In theory, we should cheer for anyone sticking it to the Mouse. On the other hand, it is equally difficult to summon any sympathy for someone willing to sell a kidney to get back into an exclusive Disney club. If the Andersons can dump $125,000 a year on Disney trips, they certainly have the means to find a new obsession. Perhaps one better suited to grownups. A man who grouses about his retirement being set back five years is not entitled to empathy from people who are forced to put groceries on credit cards.
On the final hand (and yes, I know, that makes three), for us ordinary folk for whom reality is not optional and have staggered under almost four years of government depredations, the sight of two sets of one-percenters having a go at one another makes for splendid entertainment.
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