Read The Ride Delegate: Memoir of a Walt Disney World VIP Tour Guide Online

Authors: Annie Salisbury

Tags: #disney world, #vip tour, #cinderella, #magic kingdom, #epcot

The Ride Delegate: Memoir of a Walt Disney World VIP Tour Guide (10 page)

BOOK: The Ride Delegate: Memoir of a Walt Disney World VIP Tour Guide
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When the family rode a third time, I retreated back to my special spot to find that the trainer had swapped out the broken wheelchair for a new one with working wheels. It was sweet. Or he just didn’t want me accidentally rolling into the waterway.

19

There were a few words I feared more than anything else on a tour. They weren’t, “Billy fell into the Seven Seas Lagoon!” and they weren’t, “Little Sally fell off of Everest!” and they weren’t, “Grandpa’s gone!”

They were, “Our last guide…” and then the family would tell me exactly what their last tour guide had done for them, something I was clearly refusing to do for them now. The most common one was, “Our last guide didn’t make us wait in line.”

No, the last guide probably
did
make you wait in line, but you’re with me now, your new tour guide, and you can’t talk me into
not
making you wait in any line. Literally every time I PEPed Soarin’ I needed to call someone to ask how to do it, so I wasn’t about to spend an entire day calling all of my tour guide friends trying to figure out how I could get this family to not wait in line for anything.

Sometimes tours would complain that I wasn’t doing things their prior guide had done, like set up special meet and greets with characters, and arrange for private dining rooms at restaurants, and I’d always bewilderedly respond, “I can do stuff like that?” No one told me I couldn’t demand my family ride on the Princess Float in the parade, but I wasn’t about to see if I could do that either.

Over time I grew a thick skin and questions like these didn’t faze me anymore. No, I’m not going to cut the line at Everest for you, no I’m not going to demand that we get our own private room with Mickey, no, I’m not going to see if I can get the Voices of Liberty to serenade us while we eat in Italy, though it seemed like some guides were more than able to do that. I was not. I wasn’t getting paid enough to try and negotiate with the Voices of Liberty.

I received information that I was going to be hosting a return tour for another guide. This guide was going away on vacation, and wouldn’t be around when his tour family came to town. I was the only guide available, and I headed out to meet this family early one morning. I had been told that there would be nine in the party, and I drove my 15-passenger van to meet them.

I waited at the Polynesian for maybe ten minutes before the family strolled down to meet me. Dad introduced himself, and we made polite conversation about Disney World and the weather, and I mentally counted how many family members were mulling around. I counted eleven. Dad must have seen me silently count; he quickly informed me that he would not actually be joining the tour. I was going to take his wife, and her sister, and all of their kids off to EPCOT while Dad and Uncle went off to go drink around the world. He gave me instructions to have Mom or Aunt call him when we were done for the day, so they could all meet up for dinner.

I surveyed the kids in the group and mentally planned to take my time wandering around Future World, with the possibility of talking them into a sit-down lunch somewhere like China or Morocco. I needed to make six hours last.

I drove the family to Epcot. Mom, Aunt, seven kids.

When we arrived at Epcot I asked the family if I could swipe their tickets into the park, since park entry was required for every single tour. I was surprised to learn that Aunt’s family hadn’t purchased tickets for this vacation. I needed to kill time, and these guests needed to purchase tickets. I led the family from the backstage entrance next to Test Track over to Guest Relations right next to Spaceship Earth.

We arrived at Guest Relations and the line was already out the door. I could have easily headed inside, bypassed the line and gotten a Guest Relations Cast Member working the lobby to get me tickets quickly. I could have easily just called the Office and asked them to purchase tickets for me with the guests’ credit card on file. For some reason, though, I didn’t do any of those things.

Aunt spent a half hour waiting in line. Mom and the kids kept themselves occupied while I stared off into the distance, thinking about what I was going to eat for lunch that day and if I had enough gas in my car to get me home that night. Every now and then another guest would approach me and ask me a simple question about EPCOT. I answered with ease because I knew everything about EPCOT, that’s why I was a tour guide. I pointed guests towards bathrooms, merchandise shops, coffee carts, and Minnie Mouse. Mom hardly seemed to notice that I wasn’t doting on her and her family; they were fine doing their own thing. I knew they were talking, but I had no idea what they were saying. Did I mention that their native language was Spanish? They mostly spoke Spanish. I still spoke no Spanish no matter how loud someone yelled HABLO ESPANOL? I knew a few phrases, like, “This ticket is only for one park, one day!” and “The bathrooms are over there!” and “Here!” I’ve never had an ear for languages. I took five years of French in high school, but I remember maybe twenty minutes of it.

I went and I bought myself lemonade and I leaned against the outside of EPCOT Guest Relations and let time pass. Somewhere in the midst of all of this, I realized that Mom was talking to someone. I looked at the Guest Relations line and saw that Aunt was currently at the counter, purchasing her tickets. I shrugged it off because guests were always making friends with other guests. Nothing about the situation was strange.

Finally, Aunt emerged from Guest Relations, waving tickets around in the air and our day in the park was finally ready to start. Aunt corralled her children, Mom corralled hers, and then Mom turned to her new friend, who corralled her children, and everyone started following me into EPCOT. I did a quick head count. Nine people…plus these four new friends. Thirteen people.

Mom saw me do a headcount.

“This is my other sister and her two kids. Is it okay if they come with us?” Mom asked as we stopped in front of the Fountain of Nations (didn’t know it had a name, did you?).

I looked at the thirteen people in tow. “I actually can’t host any more than ten guests at any time. If you want to add more to the tour, I’m going to need to call the Office and get a second guide.”

A VIP tour is often like trying to herd cats. And it’s not like herding cats in the wilderness; this is herding cats in Future World. That’s why the Office sets a limit of ten guests per tour guide.

“Oh, it’s still only ten guests. We’re not going to ride anything.” Mom pointed at herself, and Aunt, and New Aunt.

“But I can’t host more than ten guests.”

“But we’re not going to ride anything,” Mom said again, as if I hadn’t heard her the first time over the roaring fountain.

“Three of you have to leave.” I told them, standing my ground. Mom turned to conference with Aunt and New Aunt. She turned back to me five seconds later.

“Can you watch the children for us?”

I wish someone had taken a picture of my face at that exact moment in time. It was a mix of sheer confusion, and shock, and I half expected a hidden camera crew to jump out of the bushes and yell, “You just got Disney Punk’d!” I must have looked so dumbfounded. This was the first time parents were willing to, actually trying to, give me their kids. A complete stranger. I know Disney had me vetted before I started as not just a Cast Member but also as a tour guide, but this notion was ludicrous.

I needed to say something to Mom, so I said, “I’m not a babysitter. I’m a tour guide.”

That statement offended all three of the mothers
a lot
. They began talking to each other in Spanish so fast I could barely make out any of the few Spanish words I knew. They started walking farther into EPCOT, but I just stood there, planted to my spot on the ground. I wasn’t about to follow this madcap family any farther.

“Are you coming with us?” Mom turned and barked at me with her Spanish accent dripping off of her English words.

“I can only take ten guests on a tour, unless you want me to call my Office and get a second guide. If you don’t want a second guide, then three people need to leave,” I told Mom, not budging from my spot.

This was not the answer that Mom wanted. She looked to Aunt, and New Aunt, said some hurried things in Spanish. “We’ll keep the tour at ten. The first ride is Test Track?”

New Aunt wandered off into EPCOT away from us, but I still had her kids with me. So we had dwindled from thirteen… to twelve. I informed Mom of this as soon as we reached Test Track.

“We’re not going to ride,” Mom said as we stood outside the attraction. She pointed to all of the children, “Ten.”

I had twelve guests with me, and only ten of them were going to ride. But that’s not how a VIP tour functions. This isn’t a rotational free-for-all. This isn’t like a buffet where you can pick and chose what you want and then go back for more afterwards. No, I needed ten guests and ten guests alone. I didn’t care that Mom and Aunt were going to sit and wait for us outside. All I needed was for one tour guide to come wandering by and count my guests and see that I had two more than I should have and I was going to be in so much trouble.

“For this one attraction that’s fine. I’ll take the ten guests on, but when I come out we are going to decide who is coming with me for the rest of the day, and the others will have to leave.”

“I’ll call my husband and see what he wants to do.”

I took the kids inside of the ride, all ten of them, while Mom and Aunt waited outside. I put the kids on the attraction and then darted out an unmarked Cast Member door to e-mail the Office.

Hey. It’s Annie. Heads up, I’ve got the Blue Family with me, and they’ve got 13 people. Don’t want to get rid of any. I’m going to try and sort this out, but I might need a second guide.

The Office emailed me back before they got off the attraction. They had a guide on deck if I needed one.

I collected the children off of Test Track and took them back outside to Mom and Aunt who were waiting in the midst of stroller parking.

“I talked to the Office. They have a second guide available if you want to add others to the tour. Did you talk to your husband?”

“Do I get the second guide at half price?” Mom asked.

Do I get my own float in the parade? “No. If you don’t want a second guide I need to know who’s coming with me for the rest of the day.”

Mom looked to Aunt. Spanish Spanish Spanish. Mom told me in English that Aunt was going to leave. So we started walking and as soon as we passed Mouse Gears, Aunt disappeared inside. So twelve guests, to eleven. Still one too many.

“There are still eleven guests with me. I can only have ten.”

“Our last guide let us take more than ten guests.”

There it is. That’s the kicker. Their last guide had let them take more than ten guests and they just expected me to do the same. Mom then began yelling at me, in half Spanish, and in half English, about how this was never a problem for their last guide, so why was it a problem for me? I asked Mom point-blankly if she had talked to Dad about adding a second guide on the tour, and Mom told me she hadn’t. Mom pointed to one random child and said that they would no longer be coming with us, and shooed the poor child away from our group. I can only hope that he went off to meet up with Aunt, wherever she had wandered off to in EPCOT. “What’s the next ride?” Mom barked at me.

I led the guests to the other side of Future World towards Soarin’. We stopped for a bathroom break before we got into line. It was incredibly crowded, and I stood off to the side, casually leaning against a wall, waiting for them all to exit. When I gathered the group together after the bathroom I once again counted thirteen of them. I don’t know how the others managed to finagle their way back to us without me noticing them, but it happened.

“I can only take ten guests on the attraction with me.” Mom looked at me like I had just pushed her in front of a Living with the Land boat. Her eyes were fiery red.

She yelled some incoherent things at me in Spanish, and once again tried to give me all ten children. I was not about to play this game all day. I informed Mom that I was going to need an adult to accompany me through the attraction, since I would opt out of riding. So, one child was going to have to be traded for an adult. This sent Mom over the edge. More yelling in Spanish Spanish Spanish. I have no idea how I managed to get ten guests into the queue, but I did. No one spoke the entire queue. I didn’t even bother asking for them to be placed in B1. I left them as soon as we passed through merge, darted out another unmarked door, and called the Office.

I decided the best thing to do right now was throw that other tour guide under the bus.

“Their last guide took a group larger than ten. I keep telling them that I refuse to take more than ten, but they won’t listen to me and Mom’s getting mad. What should I do?”

There have been a few situations where the Office has been less than helpful. This was one of them. They didn’t have a good idea, or suggestion, or input, or anything, as to what I should do. They were more than ready to send another guide out and start charging for two guides. I asked them what they wanted me to do. No one seemed able to get in touch with Dad, wherever he was on Disney property, and no one wanted to tell me to end the tour, either. I was alone in The Land.

Mom and the nine kids got off of the ride and she immediately asked where we were going next. Something came over me. (It might have been the adult breakfast bounty I had just eaten at Sunshine Seasons because I had close to 25 minutes before they got off Soarin’. Soarin’ takes so long to ride. Each show is 8 minutes long. Every time you don’t get loaded into a show, you wait another 8 minutes for the next one. That’s an additional 8 minutes that I have to eat something from the deliciously home-grown Sunshine Seasons, the best quick service in Epcot, not counting when Canada lets me take Canadian cheddar cheese bacon soup to go.) I told Mom that she was going to make a decision right now as to who would be my ten guests for the day, and who would leave. That is, unless she wanted another guide who was standing by at the ready.

Mom asked for the next attraction again. I told her that she had until Spaceship Earth to figure out her tour lineup.

BOOK: The Ride Delegate: Memoir of a Walt Disney World VIP Tour Guide
10.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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