Although most of the time I spent sweeping the path between the Matterhorn and the submarine ride, on some more unfortunate days I spent my shift cleaning the bathrooms, or dumping the trash of the 50,000 or so "guests".
Editors note: At Disneyland the workers are "cast members" and the public are "guests".
It was a long summer, but relatively (other than an ugly incident in which my dust pan caught fire after sweeping up a cigarette butt) uneventful.
The last day of summer I had trash detail, which wasn't the bad news, the detail was in Fantasy land. That was the bad news.
A dense land, Fantasy land had 178 trash cans, and a gazillon people, out of their flipping minds, running in front of my heavy trash cart.
Editors Note: it was at this point in my life I realized the human beings are animals in degrees of domestication.
The trash cart was about six feet long, holding 8 empty trash containers which were traded out with full containers. In order to get the most of the containers an experienced trash dumper would smash down the refuge, which made the cart very heavy. The carts had metal wheels which did not turn, so in order to turn the entire cart had to be lifted to go in the desired direction.
Fantasy land is a very dense land.
The best part of working at Disneyland during the summer was watching Tinkerbell "land" from her flight from the Matterhorn.
Landing meant the spot light followed her until the very end and then turned off, at which time she tucked her body into a ball and crashed into a foam pad held by two big guys. She "landed" right behind Big Thunder Mountain and I busted my ass to get to the location every time so I could to see it.
The last night of summer meant her last flight, her last "landing" of the season.
I tried to time it right, but I was late. I didn't notice the decline in the pavement when I opened the gate to get "backstage" to the trash compactor, which was conveniently the same spot Tinker Bell "landed".
It may have been due to the fact my hands were wet from sweat and a coke which was thrown at me by a "guest" trying to make it into the trash can (it missed), coupled with the weight of the trash cart, and the ever so slight decline, I lost control of the cart.
Just as I began the chase I noticed Tinker Bell walking toward me, her head down.
By this time I had grabbed the handle of the cart which was dragging me along.
" Tinker Bell...Tinker Bell," I said, my voice a bit raised. The cart getting closer to mowing her down.
"Tinker Bell... Tinker Bell", I am now screaming.
My body is practically under the cart at this point, sparks flaring from the wheels, I finally let go with one last attempt to get her attention.
"TINKER BELLLLLLL"
She sees the cart and calmly steps aside, the cart crashing into a stucco wall.
Breathless and running after the cart I begin with my apologies before I have reached her. I began to talk and then couldn't stop.
" Tinker Bell, I am so sorry. I lost control of the cart and I was trying to get your attention. I was so afraid the cart was going to mow you down, and I come back here to see you crash into that pad every night and I missed it tonight and I was rushing and someone threw a coke at me and..."
Before I could finish (if I could have finished) Tinker Bell simply turned and walked (quickly) in the other direction.
Tragedy had been avoided, but I was still keyed up. I decided to give myself a little break before dumping the ton of garbage from the cart and went to splash cold water on my face.
It was about this time I started thinking about how rude Tinker Bell was to me. She didn't even acknowledge the fact that although it was technically my fault, I did save her from being obliterated by a trash cart.
It wasn't until I was in front of the mirror I saw the half eaten fudgecicle plastered to my chest and straw wrapper in my hair by my right ear. My white uniformed stained with splashes of a variety of colors, the result of unidentifiable food products.
I will be the first to admit, it was an odd sight, yet when you are Tinker Bell flying from the Matterhorn crashing into a foam pad held by two big guys should you really be passing judgement- Really?
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