I love Disneyland. I really do. I love the atmosphere and the energy, the traditions and the memories. I never seem to get tired of it. Over the years I’ve become a bit of an expert at the park, knowing how to maneuver in and out of congested foot traffic, and hitting all the best rides at their proper times. I even know where in the park to get a trusty Indiana Jones Decoder card so I can read the walls in the Temple of the Forbidden Eye. (But of course, I don’t need to go get one, because I already have one. Obviously.)
But one of the things I am most amazed at is the staff of Disneyland. Day in and day out, they constantly remain calm, energetic, and absolutely and ridiculously enthused. I don’t know how they do it. Case in point:
A few years back, some family and I ventured onto the Hollywood Tower of Terror in Disney’s California Adventure theme park. We were pretty amped up. I was with my uncle and a couple of his kids and it would be their first time riding a thrill ride of this magnitude. The “cast member” operating the ride (who like everyone else in LA, I’m sure was really an actress…) was stellar. She used her best haunting voice. She waved her flashlight for dramatic effect. She had an sinister twilight-zone-ish laugh. Basically she was awesome. If I was writing a screenplay that called for a sinister bellhop and elevator operator I would find and call her agent post haste.
And then, everything went wrong. And not “make-believe” wrong like it was supposed to. No. This was “actual ride breaking down” wrong. Right as we were about to begin our dangerous and thrilling journey, right as the doors were closing, some guy in our “elevator” quickly decided to buckle his backpack into the empty seat next to him. Because it was already as the ride was beginning, the automatic safety precautions took effect, thus stopping the ride before it ever got started.
Our ride operator and “bellhop” calmly reacted to the situation. And she did so, without breaking character. Except, the ride wouldn’t start. We sat on the ride for about 20 minutes. 20 minutes. In a dark elevator shaft. Strapped into a chair. And as the poor ride operator struggled with the system that would not respond, she never broke character. Not once. She remained, an eerie, somewhat spooky bellhop elevator operator. As a result, no one got upset. No one’s mood soured. Everyone laughed and joked about the situation, even the poor guy who had caused it by buckling his backpack into the seat. It was really amazing. Finally, after 30 minutes had passed, another cast member came and moved us to another “elevator” and we went rode our ride.
When once the ride had ended, I preceded to the exit and saw our elevator operator. Quietly I smiled to her and let her know how impressed I had been with her for handling and diffusing what could have easily become a very stressful situation. Only then, for the briefest of moments, was her spooky facade lowered as she smiled and thanked me for my remark. And then, as quickly as it had vanished, her eerie character returned as she prepared to greet another group of passengers.
I’m impressed by these people who make little money, and who do their best to see that people like me can have a memorable day at a theme park before we return home and write about it under our comic strips.
Well done park workers. Well done.
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