Inside this spiraling complex exists virtually every form of entertainment and relaxation. Two large 5 star hotels tower over the park with views stretching to the distant mountains.
Tucked below and in-between these mega-plexes are the fancy eateries and bars. The crowds here like to party and generally don’t have their kids in tow. Tour employees often refresh and unwind after a long day on the road at one of four whistle-stops on the shuttle route.
Telly’s Bar, Whompoppers, Victoria Station, and The Hilton all wait, doors wide open, for that next shuttle bus to unload. Naturally, Teamsters control this racket also.
These shuttles are basically plush vans, but there are also open-air “clown wagons” that can hold about 30 people. It’s like a tour bus you might see on Hollywood Blvd.
“Shuttle service in the morning is much different than at night,” says Homo, a senior driver and full-time playboy. He often volunteers for this job, despite its monotony, in order to focus on the the lonely vixens that hop on looking for adventure. He’s essentially a wolf, and this hill is his hunting ground.
Iris wants me to ride along with Homo so as to become more familiar with the route. Homo looks like Robert Redford and the Marlboro man combined. We hit it off, although his deep eye stare makes me wonder if I’m not being looked at as a piece of prime rib.
He knows everybody that works here and even some who stayed just a couple of nights. He’s kissed and hugged repeatedly at every restaurant and hotel shuttle stop. Women ride this “free love” train over and over, I’m told, just to smooch with Homo.
I don’t know how one man can process all this flirtation and temptation. Homo starts work early so he can be free to roam at night. The shuttles run until the bars close, so other drivers get to share in this loosey goosey environment.
“The later it get’s…the looser it gets” quotes Homo.
Women often look like models from around the world and frolick about from bar-to bar. Usually, hanging on with one hand to a safety pole and the other grabbing the driver…somewhere.
No tour guides ride these shuttles other than for a lift. The driver sometimes is the entire show…
Homo has assisted many an inebriated guest back up to there hotel room. Now that’s sevice!
Really, what I’m being taught goes beyond words. As Homo keeps touching me sporadically, I’m reminded, “this job is as much about feelings as it is about driving.”
Just in the hour I have been driving with Homo on the shuttle rout, we have broke out our Dutch vocabulary with three pretty Belgium girls. Quickly, we shift to needed Japaneese/ Americana on our next pick up-delivery.
These girls are so sweet, they’re just looking to have fun in a foreign land.We sometimes are the first friendly faces they see as they stumble out of the hotels in the daytime… Or sometimes, the last face they see as we carry them to the elevator at night.
This hilltop is rated hot, hotter, and hottest. Hottest… being when the Music Theater has a concert competeing for space in the congested center of the universe.
World Wide can’t process the cash fast enough. Shuttles get stuck in the traffic grid itself.
Beautiful women, perfume, cigerette odor, alcohol, fancy threads, crazy hairdoo’s… a Mardi Grah atmosphere. everynight.
With the help of my teacher, mentor, and friend… (Homo), have learned another piece of the giant studio/theme park property. This park works most fluid and efficiently with the right operator on the right apparatus.
Personality will go a long way in this…the party area, of World Wide Entertainment.
Written and lived by Donnie Norden…page 13