Emergency at Epcot. I ran into the elevator with a kid in each arm, both of whom wore pants that bore the wrath of cheaply made diapers worn well past the manufacturer’s suggested amount of human excrement. The kids screamed like megaphones.
I pressed the button and turned to see a pair of teenage love birds, their arms locked together, shocked expressions on their faces.
“Remember this,” I said as the doors opened and I ran away.