Read Online Would You Like Magic with That?: Working at Walt Disney World Guest Relations by Annie Salisbury - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Annie Salisbury
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way down Frontierland to find the real handicapped designated spot.
“No,” the woman said, standing strong and firm in her spot. “We are not moving.”
“I apologize, ma’am, but this is actually reserved viewing for—”
“I’m not moving. No one else told me I couldn’t stand here for the parade.”
I looked at the other cast members around me. None of them were going to talk to this already irate guest. And now it was my fault that some parade cast member had accidentally let her stand here for too long while my back was turned, and I was going to have to ruin her whole day by making her move.
“I’m sorry, but this space is reserved. There are still lots of other great viewing locations down—”
“Are you deaf? Did you not hear me? I am not moving my family.” She had two strollers with her, a bazillion bags between the two of them, and another older kid standing behind one of them.
“I apologize for the inconvenience, but—”
“Is your manager here? I want to talk to them.”
Yes, lady, my manager is standing here in Frontierland with me, because they love to stand in Frontierland at 2:30pm on random Wednesdays just to take in the ambiance of the park. It’s not like they have anything better to do, like run Guest Relations at the front of Main Street. Hold on, let me get them for you right now. “My manager is unavailable. Can I offer you some FastPasses or ice cream to make up for the inconvenience?”
“Mom, take the ice cream!” the older boy yelled.
“Shut up,” the mom yelled back at him. “I’m not moving till I talk to your manager.”
There were some guest situations that I just couldn’t fix by myself. Occasionally, I got myself into these situations and I knew there wasn’t a manager around anywhere to get me out of it. So, in lieu of a manager, I’d just grab another cast member who happened to be taller and maybe looked a little bit older, and today, that was Steve.
He was standing farther down the path in Frontierland, talking to some guests. He was deep in a conversation with them. I walked right up and poked him in the back. “I need your help,” I whispered.
Steve and I had been Celebrate Greeter-ing together for a week. We had slowly become friends. We were the same age, but he stood roughly 6 feet tall, and looked like he was in his early thirties. He needed to pretend to be a manager right now.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, excusing himself from the family.
“There’s a mean woman over there, and she won’t move from the Grand Marshall spot. She wants to talk to a manager. Sooo… can you go talk to her?”
“What am I supposed to tell her?”
“Tell her that you’re the manager on duty of the parade, and that spot is reserved, and she can’t stand there.”
Steve nodded, understanding that he was now playing pretend for me. “OK, one sec.” He left me behind, and I watched him stride over to the mean woman. He stuck out his hand and shook hers, something every manager does as soon as they enter into a guest situation. For some reason, this woman was fine talking to Steve, the fake manager, but didn’t care to give me the little bit of respect I was asking for. Whatever Steve said to her it worked, because she moved her strollers away from the shaded spot.
The first five times I watched the parade it was magical. I had a front-row seat as the floats came around the corner before disappearing into the backstage area of Frontierland. The first five times I saw it I got all giddy like a kid, and found myself waving to Mickey Mouse and mouthing along with the words.
The next five times I saw it, it wasn’t that exciting.
Neither were the next twenty.
Every single day I watched the parade. It must be different if you’re actually performing in it, seeing as how that’s your job, and that’s what you’re trained to do. I imagine you love it, too.
But I was the equivalent of a guest who happened to watch the parade every single day.
“No,” the woman said, standing strong and firm in her spot. “We are not moving.”
“I apologize, ma’am, but this is actually reserved viewing for—”
“I’m not moving. No one else told me I couldn’t stand here for the parade.”
I looked at the other cast members around me. None of them were going to talk to this already irate guest. And now it was my fault that some parade cast member had accidentally let her stand here for too long while my back was turned, and I was going to have to ruin her whole day by making her move.
“I’m sorry, but this space is reserved. There are still lots of other great viewing locations down—”
“Are you deaf? Did you not hear me? I am not moving my family.” She had two strollers with her, a bazillion bags between the two of them, and another older kid standing behind one of them.
“I apologize for the inconvenience, but—”
“Is your manager here? I want to talk to them.”
Yes, lady, my manager is standing here in Frontierland with me, because they love to stand in Frontierland at 2:30pm on random Wednesdays just to take in the ambiance of the park. It’s not like they have anything better to do, like run Guest Relations at the front of Main Street. Hold on, let me get them for you right now. “My manager is unavailable. Can I offer you some FastPasses or ice cream to make up for the inconvenience?”
“Mom, take the ice cream!” the older boy yelled.
“Shut up,” the mom yelled back at him. “I’m not moving till I talk to your manager.”
There were some guest situations that I just couldn’t fix by myself. Occasionally, I got myself into these situations and I knew there wasn’t a manager around anywhere to get me out of it. So, in lieu of a manager, I’d just grab another cast member who happened to be taller and maybe looked a little bit older, and today, that was Steve.
He was standing farther down the path in Frontierland, talking to some guests. He was deep in a conversation with them. I walked right up and poked him in the back. “I need your help,” I whispered.
Steve and I had been Celebrate Greeter-ing together for a week. We had slowly become friends. We were the same age, but he stood roughly 6 feet tall, and looked like he was in his early thirties. He needed to pretend to be a manager right now.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, excusing himself from the family.
“There’s a mean woman over there, and she won’t move from the Grand Marshall spot. She wants to talk to a manager. Sooo… can you go talk to her?”
“What am I supposed to tell her?”
“Tell her that you’re the manager on duty of the parade, and that spot is reserved, and she can’t stand there.”
Steve nodded, understanding that he was now playing pretend for me. “OK, one sec.” He left me behind, and I watched him stride over to the mean woman. He stuck out his hand and shook hers, something every manager does as soon as they enter into a guest situation. For some reason, this woman was fine talking to Steve, the fake manager, but didn’t care to give me the little bit of respect I was asking for. Whatever Steve said to her it worked, because she moved her strollers away from the shaded spot.
The first five times I watched the parade it was magical. I had a front-row seat as the floats came around the corner before disappearing into the backstage area of Frontierland. The first five times I saw it I got all giddy like a kid, and found myself waving to Mickey Mouse and mouthing along with the words.
The next five times I saw it, it wasn’t that exciting.
Neither were the next twenty.
Every single day I watched the parade. It must be different if you’re actually performing in it, seeing as how that’s your job, and that’s what you’re trained to do. I imagine you love it, too.
But I was the equivalent of a guest who happened to watch the parade every single day.
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