Dicken never mentioned a visit from this Spirit, possibly Dante.
A first in my twenty plus years visiting Busch Gardens. Daniel joked, “This looks like a scene from Jerry Springer.”
Fist flying — It reminded me of the after game riots when the Red Sox lose to the Yankees at Fenway Park.
While we were watching the show Deck The Halls, not more than fifty feet from where we were standing, a full-blown brawl broke out.
Mi Amore’s and I visited Christmas Town three times last year. I could practically recite the lines and do the dance routines for all the shows. No, not really.
Festhaus was at capacity, a huge cafeteria, that sells mock German cuisine, fast food and lots of beer. Many of the patrons were standing at the wall. The lines filled all four serving areas. You might have thought we were at a Led Zeppelin final reunion.
My inner introvert was screaming and on high alert. I might as well be in the middle of a crowd of porcupines.
I tolerate crowded conditions, BARELY!
I went on a scouting mission while the other four in our party stood in line at the side of the building. It was pouring rain. I went through the men’s room for a pit stop then stealthily snuck into Festhaus from there.
Part of my mission was to search for an open table. Not one table with three spots and room for two wheelchairs open in the house. Go figure
After reconning the place, I waited at the entrance for the rest of the party to enter. Patrons were pouring through the doors like debris in a flash flood — wave upon wave of never-ending people.
Finally, my group entered soaking wet. We waded through the crowd to meet each other and discuss our options then managed to get the two wheelchairs over to against the wall with a good line of sight to the stage for the show.
Assuring the Mrs. that the place was indeed PACKED OUT, standing room only, we decided to wait the four minutes for the show to begin. The shows last around thirty minutes.
The original plan was to watch the show while eating fake German food for dinner — this night that wasn’t happening.
Directly in our line of sight seated at a table was a family with two little girls. The girls were competing to see who could make the loudest noise by pounding the crap out of the wooden tables. They were using their recently purchased overpriced Busch Gardens Christmas Town plastic cocoa mugs.
We have several. You get a discount for reusing your mug each year.
Apparently, mommy and daddy had no plans to reuse theirs.
I could see the little girls exhilaration. Their smiles grew wider as their pounding louder. I am sure the decibel levels had reached Van Halen concert levels. Mom and dad did not seem to notice. Everyone around them did.
The show started, and the drumming continued unabated. I had pretty much tuned out the little drummer girls. I was already having an internal meltdown of my own. The throngs of people repeatedly violated my personal space. My inner child had assumed the fetal position and was sucking its thumb.
Five or ten minutes into the show, the spirit of Christmas mischief made his appearance. Immediately I became alert; even my inner child awakened by the scene unfolding before my eyes.
The noise had reached a woman’s threshold. She stood and turned toward the family and angrily said something. Didn’t hear what she said, but the anger on her face radiated throughout the cafeteria. A man that I assume is the dad of the two future drum corps. Majorettes stood to confront her. I guess, he felt like the woman threatened is two little cherubs even though the lady was speaking directly to him.
Flying past the escalating feud was a younger version of the enraged woman who was about to throw down with the dad. As she stormed out of the cafeteria, the young woman was crying and embarrassed. I heard her say, “I can’t believe you are doing this.”
My guess, mommy had public altercations before.
She ran right by us and out the emergency exit.
The climactic moment was when the man put his arm up and pushed the women away from him. She was so in his face that any closer would have created a scandal of a different sort.
All hell broke loose as family and friends from each side stood and entangled in the battle. I believe the woman threw and landed a punch.
The full brawl broke out in less than sixty seconds.
That was my cue to get the family out of there before it spread to a full-blown riot. I stopped to inform security about the fight. We could hear the music behind us as we waded back through the crowds toward the exit. The show must go on.
Security guys were passing us working their way through the crowd to get to end the Festhaus Riots.
Though a well-performed show, The show never generated that much excitement.
Once out of the crowd, we headed to the San Marco eatery in Italy and caught the show Gift of Harmony, an acapella group.
While crossing the bridge between Germany and Italy, I looked over at the message on the train trestle across the water — PEACE ON EARTH.
Not to be this night!
The reflection on the water reminded me that Peace on Earth was turned on its head this night.
The irony and a little sadness swept over me.
Peace on Earth will not happen until enough of humanity has peace filled hearts.
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and a bountiful New Years.