Follow Mariam

When I was a kid my family never took us to Disneyland or Disney World and I always wanted to go.

I used to love watching the Sunday night feature on TV at my grandparents and it was always a Disney movie that the whole family could enjoy.

We didn’t have a TV at home but we’d catch the shows here and there, and I reveled in it. I wanted to be one of those characters and act and sing and dance, it looked like so much fun!

The funny thing is as I grew up I always thought in the back of my mind that one day I would visit Disney World, and eventually it did happen.

My husband and I went to Orlando, Florida for our Honeymoon and pretty much return every year. We haven’t made it out there this year yet, but hopefully if things work out and we get situated with our jobs and perhaps a move to a new place, we’ll go.

I think what I love about Disney World and the whole brand in general is its focus on happiness and positivity. I love the idea of going on vacation and being immersed in an environment where people are smiling and nice and want to make sure you are having a wonderful stay.

That’s what I call customer service!

Back when I lived in Central Illinois my family and I would come up to Chicago maybe once or twice a year.

Visiting the big city was very intimidating. I would see homeless people all over asking for money and I didn’t know what to do. I had heard of scam artists before, but this wasn’t my city, I had no idea who was real and who was just too lazy to get a job.

Flash forward to the present.

Living in downtown Chicago has been quite an experience. What used to seem like a scary and overwhelming city is quite the opposite!

Now that I know the area like the back of my hand, I can tell you for certain who the scam artists are.

Right outside our building there are the regular 2 or 3 guys that ask for change or try to sell you a free newsletter (if you are a tourist you wouldn’t know any better).

One time I was heading out to work at 4:30 am to do the morning drive on the radio. It was still really dark outside, and the streets were empty. I asked the doorman if he could please turn on the cab light. It’s like a police light but it hangs upside down from the front awning and signals to the taxi driver that someone wants to be picked up.

I waited what seemed like forever and then I see headlights a few blocks away. I’m praying it’s a taxi so I can make it to work on time. All of a sudden two guys pop out of the 7-Eleven that’s attached to the high-rise I live in. They see me waiting, they see the cab that I had just spotted, and then they are in the street waving and trying to flag it down.

One of the guys tries to open the door for me while the other one starts to talk on his cell phone.

The guy who opens the door, “Spare any change?”

I look at him and smile politely, “Sorry I don’t carry cash.”

Which is the honest truth. I rarely have cash on me, not even a penny. I like to travel light and rarely carry a purse (as I write this I realize I don’t even own one anymore).

I’m not sure if these guys were actually homeless, it seemed like they were just trying to make some money.

But let me tell you, if you ever go to Union Station you can be sure to get scammed.

These guys come out of the woodwork trying to open your cab door, or “find you a cab” when the taxis  are right there lined up. And if you ignore them and don’t offer them money, you can be sure to hear them shout profanities. Usually they don’t approach me because I do my best not to look around as if I’m lost or confused. That’s seems to be what tips them off that you’re a newbie and they can pull one over you. I’ve witnessed many a tourist pull out a map and not know what’s going on, that’s when they’ll pounce on you like fresh meat.

One late night as my husband and I were returning on Amtrak after visiting my parents in Central Illinois, we got out to look for a cab. That evening, because of delays, the train arrived really late to Union Station. We got out and walked around looking for a cab but the few there were taken. Then this guy comes out of nowhere (don’t they always?) and approaches my husband.

In Arabic I’m telling my husband, “Don’t talk to him!” Because I sensed he was going to ask for money or something.

My husband asks him, “You have a cab? Where is it?”

The guy is trying to talk fast, “I’m a veteran, see here is my ID,  I’m parked down there.”

Again I repeat in Arabic, “Don’t talk to him!”

Well it’s almost 1am and we’re tired and my husband seems especially so.

I’m about 8 months pregnant and carrying my 2 year old, and my husband has our luggage and our daughter’s carseat as we traipse along a few blocks down following the random guy.

My husband: “Where is your car?”

Random Guy: “It’s just down there.”

My Husband: “Is it a taxi?”

Random Guy: “I’m a veteran, look I’ll show you my ID.”

OK with the ID already!

We get to his “cab” and it’s a white car with tinted windows. There was something creepy about it.

My husband turns to him, “Look I respect what you’ve done for this country, but I’m sorry we can’t get in the car with you.”

These are just a few things that happen, there are MANY more experiences so I’ll write some more later. I don’t want to overwhelm you and I have to save some stuff for future posts right?

Whenever I go out I seem to run into something that would make a funny story. I often have a dialogue in my head about how I could write it out, but then I never do. I guess I wonder if it’s funny to only me and if I actually posted it, maybe people wouldn’t find it that interesting?

Just yesterday I was in the elevator leaving the apartment to go to work. There was this realllly old guy in the elevator. And I mean old. Either that or he’s been smoking since he was 8 because he looks THAT old. Not to mention he smells like a chimney. I could barely breathe in that small space.

As the door closes he just stares at me up and down while tapping his cane. And finally says, “Is that a chador you’re wearing, or is that for the cold?”

I look back at him, not sure what he’s trying to get at, and honestly answer, “It’s a scarf.”

He spits out his reply, “I know that’s a scarf.” I could tell he was a little pissed off. But I didn’t’ mean to be rude. I thought he was one of those people who had no idea what a scarf was.

“I’m asking if it’s for religious reasons you wear that on your head, or if it’s because of the cold weather.”

Well sheesh, now that you put it that way, “It’s for religious reasons.”

I dashed out of the elevator and ran to catch my bus.

When my mother tells this story, she says that she was getting ready to rush my older brother to the ER for something, when I started crying:

“My button, I lost my button.”

She says she had no idea what I was talking about and dropped me off at her friends house so I could stay there while she took care of my brother’s emergency. I think he had hurt himself at the playground (yet again) and had to get stitches. This was back in the day when kids actually played outside.

In the meantime, here I am playing with the neighbor kids (I think I was about 3 or 4 years old at the time) and I sneeze into my hand.

Lo and behold out pops the button!

I was so excited that I ran up to my mom’s friend and held out my hand, “I found my button!”

Not sure what the lady did with it, but that wasn’t the last she would see of my antics.

Another time this same lady was watching me and my siblings when her kids brought me a bottle of liquid Panadol. It was a big bottle probably the size of the liquid Nyquil you’d see today. I remember them telling me to drink it, and of course being the deprived child (we weren’t allowed to have candy), I chugged that thing down.

My mom happened to come by at that moment and I remember walking down the stairs to greet her with the empty bottle and red mustache.

Of course she flipped out and next thing I know she had given me medication that made me vomit continuously.

Moral of the story: don’t deprive your children of candy, they’ll try to find other ways to get that sugary taste!