There were a lot of moments during my time at Disney that made me go “wtf,” but this is probably one of my favorites. I got scheduled to work the night of a Mickey’s Not So Scary Party, and I worked in Fantasyland at the Pan/small world Complex. This was pre-New Fantasyland, so stroller parking for Pan and it’s a small world was still right outside small world.

Unfortunately, I ended up at Stroller Parking during the fireworks. When there are fireworks involved, people leave their strollers wherever they feel like it so they can drag their kids to watch the fireworks from behind the castle. What this means is I spent the entire 20 minute firework show moving strollers from all over the alleyway over to the designated stroller parking so people could walk without it becoming a safety hazard once the floodgates opened and everyone scattered post-fireworks. 

After the fireworks were over, I’m still moving strollers, trying to straighten them out and make it look like less of a mess, and this guy comes stomping over to get his stroller, and he is heated because his stroller is not where he originally left it.

“Excuse me, who moved the carriages?”

Yes, he called it a carriage.

“If it got moved during the fireworks, I did.” I answer.

“Who gave you permission to move the strollers?” He snaps at me.

“Well, sir, where did you park it originally?” I ask politely.

“Over there, up against the wall.” He answers, pointing to the wall by Peter Pan’s Flight. 

“Unfortunately, that wall is not designated stroller parking, sir. It was a safety hazard by being there so I had to move it.” I reply just as politely as before. 

Apparently, his need to park his stroller wherever he pleases is greater than the safety of others, because he did not like my answer, and he asks “Is there a sign that says I can’t park my stroller over there?” 

This is when I stop what I’m doing and I walk right over to the man so I’m standing next to him and I direct his attention back to Pan. “Actually, sir, there are several,” I proceed to point them out to him by color, including the one on the wall he pointed out to me early when I asked him where he parked his stroller originally. “There’s a blue one there, a yellow one there, and a purple one over there that all say please, no stroller parking.

Being wrong just made him angrier. “Well. You’re responsible if any of my stuff is missing.” He informs me.

At this point, I’m starting to lose my patience with this guy and I put on my best Disney smile before reciting what I had been told during training, almost word-for-word. “Actually, sir, by leaving your personal belongings in your stroller, you are doing so at your own risk, and Disney is not responsible if any items are missing.”

This is when it gets good. Most people would have just walked away by now, but not this guy. Instead, he gets all haughty and folds his arms across his chest and asks me, “Have you heard of the show Undercover Bosses?”

Yes, he was serious, and my smile turns into me trying not to laugh. “…I…I have, sir.”

“Well your superiors should go on it and see what kind of operation you run.”

At this point, I can’t help myself and I say, “Okay, well if you feel the need to write to the show and tell them about your experience, feel free.”

(Joke’s on him, though, because my “superiors” wander around the area at least once an hour, so not only they know what kind of operation I’m running, they know I did what they would have asked me to do.)

“This isn’t funny!” He exclaims. I’m still trying not to laugh. 

“Absolutely not, sir, this is a completely serious matter.”

It finally looks like he’s going to leave, and I start moving strollers again, but he’s going to get one last jab in so I know he’s mad. “This is absolutely ridiculous. Moving peoples’ da** strollers.” 

Without missing a beat, I say “Well sir, if you really feel that strongly about it, Guest Relations is located at the front of the park as you exit, in the building labeled City Hall.”

He then tells me he knows exactly where Guest Relations is, because he’s already been there once that day (which one of you moved his “carriage” first?), and storms off.

To this day, I don’t know what amuses me more, the fact that he spent close to 10 minutes fussing at me after he was at fault to begin with, or the fact that he thought a Cast Member would not recognize their managers, or Bob Iger, or Meg Croften in that God awful lederhosen. 


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