Read Online Would You Like Magic with That?: Working at Walt Disney World Guest Relations by Annie Salisbury - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Annie Salisbury
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confused. A few times they picked it up and put it in a neighboring stroller, because clearly it had been placed into theirs by accident. Sometimes the kids were genuinely happy to come back and find an actual surprise waiting for them. I always used to write a note, something like, “Hope you liked my ride!” and signed it from Stitch.
Everyday, we had to go to the parade, right after lunch.
We’d clock into work around 8:30am. We’d be out in the park by 9:30am. The parade was at 3pm, and we needed to start getting set up for it at 2, so we’d go to lunch around 12:30. And we’d stay there until 2.
The five of us weren’t supposed to take an hour-and-a-half lunch; it just happened. Sometimes it was hot, or raining, or we just didn’t feel like standing in Fantasyland any longer. So we’d all head down to the cast member “Mousekateria”. We were given radios so we could talk to one another throughout the day, but the managers back at City Hall could hear everything we were saying. It became an unspoken thing that we’d meet in the Mousekateria right around 12:30 for some food and air conditioning.
And then it was time for the parade.
Our first duty was to get a rope. The rope was at City Hall. We’d take the rope to the very end of the parade route. The parade ends in Frontierland, where it goes up the little incline and disappears out of sight from guests. This is where we needed to set things up.
So we’d take this rope and hook it up to some stanchion poles that the parade cast members had already prepared. Usually, we’d show up and there would be no one there. But sometimes there would be guests already huddled together in the shade, reserving their space for the parade.
We had to politely ask these guests to move. They never wanted to. However, the Grand Marshal family needed this spot. It was the only area of shade down here in Frontierland, and by the time the Grand Marshal family gets to the end of the parade they have usually been in direct sunlight for about 45 minutes without water. We don’t want them passing out immediately after they step out of the Grand Marshal car. The plan every day was to get them out of the car and into the shade and shove water bottles into their faces, so they wouldn’t get dehydrated and wouldn’t pass out on us in front of the other guests and the continuing parade (also, there was no way to get an medical unit around the parade, so they really couldn’t pass out).
Most guests were pretty cool with moving over a little bit so we could secure our shady spot. Sometimes we’d make agreements with guests, perhaps letting them stand in the spot until the parade hit Fronterland, and then they had to leave. Most were OK with that, and would just step aside into the sun at the appointed time.
Of course, there were the guests who were mean and rude to me because I was asking them very politely to move so I could do my job.
“I’ve been standing here for forty-five minutes, and now you want me to move?” one woman said to me. I explained that this spot was reserved, and that she could stand elsewhere along the route, but she couldn’t stand in the shade. “But I’ve been standing here for forty-five minutes,” she told me again, and I wanted to say, “BULLSHIT, you have not been standing out here since 1:15pm, and even if you had been, there’s nothing on your ticket that promises you this spot.” But I never did.
“But the baby’s asleep” another woman said to me, and I looked at the four year old in the stroller who was in fact asleep, and I doubt she would wake up if she were moved two feet to the side.
“They told us this was handicapped viewing,” a dad told me, as he gestured to his party made up of three grandparents all in wheelchairs. I had to explain that whoever had told him that was misinformed, and that this tiny little shaded spot was not handicapped viewing. He yelled at me, because now he had to push his three grandparents all the
Everyday, we had to go to the parade, right after lunch.
We’d clock into work around 8:30am. We’d be out in the park by 9:30am. The parade was at 3pm, and we needed to start getting set up for it at 2, so we’d go to lunch around 12:30. And we’d stay there until 2.
The five of us weren’t supposed to take an hour-and-a-half lunch; it just happened. Sometimes it was hot, or raining, or we just didn’t feel like standing in Fantasyland any longer. So we’d all head down to the cast member “Mousekateria”. We were given radios so we could talk to one another throughout the day, but the managers back at City Hall could hear everything we were saying. It became an unspoken thing that we’d meet in the Mousekateria right around 12:30 for some food and air conditioning.
And then it was time for the parade.
Our first duty was to get a rope. The rope was at City Hall. We’d take the rope to the very end of the parade route. The parade ends in Frontierland, where it goes up the little incline and disappears out of sight from guests. This is where we needed to set things up.
So we’d take this rope and hook it up to some stanchion poles that the parade cast members had already prepared. Usually, we’d show up and there would be no one there. But sometimes there would be guests already huddled together in the shade, reserving their space for the parade.
We had to politely ask these guests to move. They never wanted to. However, the Grand Marshal family needed this spot. It was the only area of shade down here in Frontierland, and by the time the Grand Marshal family gets to the end of the parade they have usually been in direct sunlight for about 45 minutes without water. We don’t want them passing out immediately after they step out of the Grand Marshal car. The plan every day was to get them out of the car and into the shade and shove water bottles into their faces, so they wouldn’t get dehydrated and wouldn’t pass out on us in front of the other guests and the continuing parade (also, there was no way to get an medical unit around the parade, so they really couldn’t pass out).
Most guests were pretty cool with moving over a little bit so we could secure our shady spot. Sometimes we’d make agreements with guests, perhaps letting them stand in the spot until the parade hit Fronterland, and then they had to leave. Most were OK with that, and would just step aside into the sun at the appointed time.
Of course, there were the guests who were mean and rude to me because I was asking them very politely to move so I could do my job.
“I’ve been standing here for forty-five minutes, and now you want me to move?” one woman said to me. I explained that this spot was reserved, and that she could stand elsewhere along the route, but she couldn’t stand in the shade. “But I’ve been standing here for forty-five minutes,” she told me again, and I wanted to say, “BULLSHIT, you have not been standing out here since 1:15pm, and even if you had been, there’s nothing on your ticket that promises you this spot.” But I never did.
“But the baby’s asleep” another woman said to me, and I looked at the four year old in the stroller who was in fact asleep, and I doubt she would wake up if she were moved two feet to the side.
“They told us this was handicapped viewing,” a dad told me, as he gestured to his party made up of three grandparents all in wheelchairs. I had to explain that whoever had told him that was misinformed, and that this tiny little shaded spot was not handicapped viewing. He yelled at me, because now he had to push his three grandparents all the
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