When my wife Megan and I got married we decided to go to Orlando for our honeymoon. Not because we are particularly into theme parks, but because it's something neither of us had really done, and we are both notoriously bad at taking vacations. I still use most of my paid time off to run errands and do chores around the house. After getting married, we figured, we should probably celebrate somewhere where they FORCE you to relax and have fun.
One thing Meg kept playfully needling me about was who my favorite Disney Princess was. "I don't really have one" wasn't good enough of an answer.
"Well, then, Ariel I guess. The little mermaid"
"Oh really, why?"
"I don't know. She's spunky. I always like mermaids in art and we watched that one a lot when I was a kid. Her I guess."
When we finally got to Disney World we realized we had done the bare minimum of preparation for such a trip. Apparently this sort of thing requires a lot of planning to maximize exposure to rides and attractions. That was antithetical to my idea of time off. Nevertheless, once we got to the hotel room my darling new wife and I each pulled up the official park app and attempted to craft a loose schedule.
"Do you want to try and meet Ariel?" Meg asked.
"Do I want to stand awkwardly in line for a fifteen second meeting with a 22-year-old dressed as a mermaid? No, not really."
"Come on, it could be cute."
"Ugh, I guess." I relented. "But not if it's the legs version."
"The LEGS VERSION?" she laughed.
"Yeah. It says here that one of the possible princess meet-and-greets is apparently Ariel after she's been enchanted and has legs instead of fins. That's stupid. Imagine you're a kid and she's your favorite character and you travel all the way down here and you meet the legs version. It's called The Little Mermaid, not The Little Girl Who Used to be a Mermaid. Not interested. What a ripoff."
Meg laughed and laughed at this well into the next day. I admit it's funny to have a deeply held conviction about a Disney character when I couldn't even say with certainty that she was important to me.
One thing I HAD decided on for certain was that my primary souvenir on this trip was going to be a collection of fun hats. I had already purchased an ornate wizard hat at Theme-Park-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named and now that we were in EPCOT, a wine-colored felt beret had already found its way on top of my head.
After visiting every pavilion and getting ready to head back to our room, I told Meg I wanted to stop one more time in the gift shop at fake Morocco to decide if I wanted to buy a fez or not. I found the hats in the shop but none of them appealed to me. I looked around to see if I had missed anything and my eyes were drawn to a golden light across the room.
Glued in my tracks, through a doorway, a hallway, and another doorway, framed in an alcove, I saw "Princess Jasmine," the heroine of Aladdin, standing alone in her meeting area, apparently between shifts. We locked eyes, she beamed, and- momentarily starstruck by this random cast member- I nodded very slightly, like Michael Caine at the end of The Dark Knight Rises.
Jasmine! Of course. Aladdin was Disney's "boy movie" and Princess Jasmine was headstrong and skeptical, equal parts foil and love interest. In the spin-off syndicated cartoon show, which I recalled fondly, she always kept up with the boys on any adventure. In retrospect, she was always my favorite Disney Princess. Maybe objectively the best, even. This is a character who in some small way helped form my ideas about partnerships, including the one I was celebrating on that trip.
I suddenly wondered if Disney cast members were trained to consider the monumental impact the characters they portray have - on culture, peoples' personalities, or even their value systems. I was broken out of my momentary reverie when "Jasmine" waved with an elegant and convincingly regal gesture. I smiled as I left the shop and met Megan outside.
"You didn't decide on anything?" she asked.
"Well, one thing." I laughed, and told her about my short audience with royalty.

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