I worked at the Disney resort in Orlando from 2000 to 2006, and I have to say it's a chapter of my life I'll genuinely treasure. It's funny, however, when you get away from the company how frequently you encounter very assertive opinions against the company by people who really have no basis for what they believe apart from a simple desire to want to think Disney mistreats their cast members.
In my experience, this is not the case. Is it a perfect company? Of course not. Do they treat the cast poorly? Not at all. Admittedly the face of the company is so exaggeratedly positive that they may paint a picture of cast benefits to be unrealistic, but at the end of the day Disney is a job, and it's a good one.
I mention this because I want anyone reading my blog to understand that the typical cast member (there are always bad eggs to be filtered out) is someone who may have come to work with a bit of a migraine but still hopes you're enjoying your vacation. Some cast members are insanely outgoing, while others are a bit on the reserved side, but something inside us believes in what Disney is supposed to be.
But let's face it. Florida is usually hot. And it's crowded. And you probably took out a second mortgage just to cover the parking fees. Tensions can rise. We all get it. When that happens, ninety percent of tourists are able to push past their sense of 'their need is the only thing that matters to the world around them' and finds a way to have fun. This blog is about the remaining ten percent.
5. "We just want an autograph!"
You hear this one when an adult realizes the line to meet one of the Country Bears is as long as the one to an Aerosmith concert. Sometimes it's "We just want a photo" or "We just want to monopolize Liverlips's attention for an hour and a half" but the rubrics are always the same. It opens with "We just want-" as if the expectation which follows is going to be somehow less inconvenient on the character performer than asking them to drive the family in question to the airport.
Here's the deal, those autographs are meaningless. Disney cast members have to lie and say that the characters love signing their fake names because selling these meaningless autograph books and impossible-to-balance pens with Mickey's torso on them are a cash cow. The characters want to interact with you and give you an encounter as opposed to proof of the encounter.
But that's a digression of a deeper issue without a solution. The topic here is: no, your perceived 'minor' demand does not exempt you from waiting in line. All of those miserable people who are already following the rules that you think are so unimportant; you're as unimportant as they are. Get in the damn line or hang it up on the autographs.
4. "We dropped our fastpass."
No you didn't.
This one is similar to the character meet and greet, except in the example above the guest probably believes they have grounds to bypass the line. But here, someone knows they're trying to get away with something.
If you're unfamiliar with the fastpass system, there are kiosks outside some of the more popular attractions where you can reserve a time to come back later and bypass most of the line. I haven't been to Disney in a few years, and I understand there's been a major overhaul of the whole system, but the lesson here holds true. Don't try to play the system.
You see, Disney cast members do the same things every day. They know how the park works. And they're also bright enough to recognize people who try to take advantage of the company's already prevalent generosity. I had a couple of young guys attempt to bluff their way past me at Space Mountain. I got applause from the standby line when I sent them packing. Cast members LIVE for those moments.
3. "Universal lets us smoke wherever."
Where do I begin? Disney has designated smoking areas for those people who still haven't figured out that the consequences of smoking outweigh the benefits by approximately a lot to jack squat. But the company will still grant you a few spots within ironic walking distance to indulge.
Now admittedly, Universal's smoking policy has also changed since I lived in Florida, but I also heard "Universal lets us drink alcohol" and "Universal has better rides/food/alligator wranglers," as if dropping the name of the primary competition will suddenly procure better service. "Oh, my, well we certainly don't want that opinion to make it onto Yelp. Let me see if I can get you and your family dinner on one of the parade floats."
Truthfully though, this is usually a case where the guest isn't actually after anything apart from having their unimportant feedback heard. This one is ultimately harmless though. Disney cast members know there are some people who simply cannot be pleased. We want you to be happy. But we're not going to break our backs for you. And when you flaunt your inflexibility, watch how fast we stop giving a damn.
2. "My watch says eleven."
This is when something is going to open its doors at a specific time and people have to wait outside longer than they expect to. It's annoying. You have every right to be annoyed. You may even be right about the time. It may be 11:03 and the lack of open entranceway is now eating into your vacation. Maybe there's a mechanical issue behind the door. Maybe somebody didn't show up to work. Maybe the entire staff of Captain EO is deliberately making you and the other two hundred people in line wait longer for their own amusement. I don't know what's going on and neither do you.
But that poor lone cast member, with the desperate Disney smile, standing between the attraction and a potential onslaught; that cast member doesn't know what's going on either.
That cast member knows that the doors are supposed to open at eleven. That cast member has been telling twelve people before you that the doors open at eleven. And when you brazenly declare that your watch, which has a high speed uplink to the international registry of timekeeping, says that it is in fact eleven and those doors are now obligated to show some sign of movement, that cast member grimaces politely and says "We're on Disney Time."
What does Disney Time mean? I'll tell you. It means nobody gives a shit what your watch says. The f**king doors will open when they f**king open. And that well-trained Disney smile is the dam for a flood of anxiety and tears that cast member is pushing back the same way that cast member's fragile body is the only thing holding back the mob of irritated guests all expecting the attraction to open at f**king eleven. That's what Disney Time means. So shut up about your f**king watch.
1. "We measured him at home."
God! I hate this one. You know those six year old kids who only want two experiences at Disney World; to meet Goofy, and to ride You're Too Short To Ride This Ride Mountain? So many caregivers have this superstitious belief that their unfounded promises are going to cause a desired result to come into being.
I'm holding the scientifically crafted height stick, which resembles a mailbox flag if world's population suddenly became hobbits. If you want to ride this ride, your head has to come up to level where the stick indicates it has to. Why that height? Why not lower? I don't know. I'm not a paid journalist. I'm a paid stick holder. Probably nothing is going to happen if your almost-tall-enough child gets on the ride, but it's my ass on the line if I let him through.
When the child doesn't meet the requirement, there's usually a bit of underhanded scheming that the adults and child do right in front of me. "Stand on your tippy toes," is the first command. I'm not having it. "No, he needs to put his heels down on the ground," I inform them. They try to rationalize the situation by suggesting that if the child had only worn his six inch stilettos he would be tall enough for the ride. This is true, but he didn't and he's not.
"The other guy let us do it yesterday," they lie. "Ah yes," I lie back, "He was terminated this morning for that very thing." "But why can't he ride? I'll be sitting next to him, holding him down, blocking meteorological debris with my body. So why can't he ride?"
"Because he's not tall enough."
It's really a simple equation. Somebody who makes significantly more money than me has decided where the cut off point is for letting people onto the beloved death trap. I hear the arguments. I accept the names I get called. But the only thing in my hands is this damnable measuring stick, and that's what I have to go by.
If it stopped there I wouldn't have a problem, but then I'm presented with the problem. It's not my problem, it's theirs, but they try to pawn it off on me. "We measured him at home." Well, you didn't have this measuring stick. Maybe your child was correctly measured in inches and you went through some interdimensional compression zone between there and here. Maybe you didn't realize he was on a step ladder at home. Maybe you were drunk at the time. I don't care. Right here, right now, your child is not tall enough. And if your relationship with him is now damaged, it's because you tried to do my job.
The bottom line is, you are a single face in a sea of thousands. There is something to be said for individuality, but in this case you either do the right thing with the rest of the flock and be forgotten with the best of them, or you stand out by being a pain in the ass. Your goal should be to have the best day you can, not to ruin some one else's. You've already had to donate your plasma to get here, why squander it trying to feel more important than you are?
What stories do you guys have about dealing with impossible vacationers?
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