True Story
The Worst Job I Ever Had Was at “The Happiest Place on Earth” (Part 1)
The Nightmare of Working at Disneyland
Whenever someone hears that I worked at Disneyland during college, they say, “Oh, how fun that must have been!” But the truth is, it was hell.
Note: Non-members can read the full story at this link.
It was 1980 and I don’t know how much working conditions at Disneyland have changed since then, but I may have killed a tourist while doing my job.
Working part-time at the park, I was clearly mistaken for Hercules. In my early 20s, tipping the scale at a whopping 100 lbs, management assigned me to push around a refrigerated steel cart loaded with ice cream that weighed about 150 lbs. Oh, and let’s not forget the matching umbrella(s) — because, of course, they didn’t add any weight at all!
That summer day was hot and crowded, and my assignment was to sell ice cream around the perimeter of the Matterhorn, which, to make matters worse, had an incline.
The park was especially packed on summer weekends and teeming with visitors from abroad who didn’t speak English. Caught up in the excitement of the experience, they were more focused on keeping an eye on family members and navigating the park, than on any potential dangers.
After all, it was Disneyland, “The Happiest Place on Earth”, so what could go wrong? Plenty, as it turned out.
The cart was full with drums of ice cream, napkins, cones, scoops, and a few other articles. My job was to scoop the selected ice cream flavor onto a cone, serve it with a napkin, and collect payment.
Following the schedule for the day, I prepped my cart to move to the next location. I took down the umbrella and set it on top of the cart, then began to push my cart down the incline, slowly moving the cart through the crowd. But as I maneuvered it down the slope, I lost control of the cart.
I tried to slow it down manually because there was no emergency brake. It pulled me faster and faster as it rolled down the hill and my only option was to shout out for people to get out of its way as I tried my best to hold on to the grab bar. But it became impossible and continued to roll, dragging me behind it…
I yelled a warning as loud as I could and most people moved out of the way, but a couple of foreign visitors, who didn’t speak English, didn’t hear or heed my warning. The noise from the crowd drowned out my shouts, making it difficult for them to hear my panicked screams, especially without knowing the language.
I experienced the next moments in slow motion as the cart bowled over the gentleman like a bowling pin.
Chaos reigned as people screamed in horror at the man laying on the pavement with one leg stuck under the cart.
First I called security and then attended to the man who was shouting at me in a foreign language along with his wife. I didn’t have any first aid supplies. A crowd gathered.
An ambulance rushed to the scene, dislodged the man’s leg, and sped off with the couple. No siren or lights. No calling attention to the incident.
I’ll never forget the blood. I prayed he wouldn’t die.
I was transported on a golf-type cart to the nursing station and given a form to complete about the accident. I think I was in shock but I was required to complete the report before leaving for the day. I drove home in a stupor.
But I wasn’t fired. The next work day I was assigned to pop-corn. And after that it was either balloons or popcorn but never ice-cream again. I heard nothing else about him or the incident.
If you enjoyed this, read PART 2 of the series here:
And Parts 3 & 4 if you want to jump ahead:
