Chapter 11: Part One: If You Don't Put Out That Cigarette I'm Moving To Disney World

This was the hardest chapter for me to write, by far. Have you ever cut yourself (not on purpose, you morbid freak) and then as soon as the wound started to heal, you just decided to take a pen, stab the wound, tear it open, and pour a carton of Morton Salt into it? That's kind of what reliving the Disney College Program is like. Okay, no. Not really. The College Program wasn't the worst thing that ever happened to me. It didn't degrade me, destroy my character, and spit me out as a hollow shell of what I used to be. Although, at times I definitely thought it would. It's hard to write about this experience because there's just so much that needs to be explained, and I don't know where to start. If Best Buy had two parts, then how many would the epic Disney tale take to unfold?

Let's just start the story already, and see where it takes us, shall we?

During my Freshman year at Western, my friend Alicia and I both interviewed for the Walt Disney World College Program. We were on our way back from our bi-weekly trip to the Rec Center (one of the few times we actually went, instead of just going to her place to get high, play The Sims, and half-heartedly convince ourselves that we were going to use the ab-roller) when we saw a flyer for an information meeting. I'm not quite sure how the conversation went, other than it segued to Alicia telling me I needed to find a girl to give me head, but all that really matters for the sake of this story is that we decided to go to the meeting and set up interviews. Flash forward a few weeks later, and both Alicia and I had gotten offers to go to Florida to work Quick Service Food & Beverage. And that is when I learned...

LESSON NUMBER 1: YOU ARE NOT THE PRIVIEST PRINCESS
Disney made sure that we got as little information as possible about most things. If you don't know a lot of what's going on, then you can't complain about it. It's kind of a subdued tactic that they employ in order to keep "cast members" in control. In this case, you were only given your specific "role" and program start date. You were not told where you would be working or exactly what you'd be doing. You could get offered a job in Operations and you could end up working Pirates of the Caribbean. Or, you could end up waving lightsabre-like wands and directing the trams in the parking lot. Which would you rather do? In this case, all Alicia and I knew was that we would be serving food and/or beverage in a quick manner. Now, regardless of whether it's a turkey leg cart, Pinocchio's kitchen, or McDonald's in DinoLand USA, leaving college halfway through your Freshman year to work Quick Service Food and Beverage didn't really seem...you know...applicable to my life goals. Even though I wasn't quite sure what my life goals were at the time, I had the utmost certainty it didn't involve stocking condiment bars and hawking overpriced popcorn in collectible buckets. Alicia and I both declined the offers, and never really thought about it again.

"Role?" "Cast Member?" You're probably wondering if this was a full time job or a high school production of "Crazy For You." Before we go any further, let's get through...

LESSON NUMBER 2: YEAR OF A MILLION DREAMS, LAND OF A MILLION EUPHEMISMS
Here's a quick rundown of the Disney lingo.
"Cast Members" are employees.
Your "Role" is your job.
"Showkeepers" are the janitors.
"Guests" are customers.
"On stage" is anywhere that guests can go.
"Back stage" is an employees-only area
"Bad show" is when you are breaking one of the many guidelines to the "Disney Look" such as your earrings being larger than a quarter, your sideburns being too long, having a goatee, wearing too many rings, sunglasses where a guest can't see your eyes, or wearing white socks with black shoes (or even worse! black shoes with shorts!)
A "Disney Point" is the only way that you can direct a guest. You always point with two fingers, not one.

Now that you understand the fundamentals (and aren't they truly the building blocks of fun?) we can get back to the story. Alicia and I declined the jobs.

"But wait! Steve! Surely this chapter can't be over already!!!"

Not by a long shot, proverbial reader whom I just quoted in order to make a point and try a new literary device. The story is just beginning. Flash forward (again) to one year later. I hated life in Kalamazoo. Mostly, I just hated my roommates. They smoked cigarettes in the house. Once again, Disney was in town recruiting. Alicia backed out on me this time, but I still went to the interview. Somehow, I managed to get offered an even better position. I was asked to be a "Role Hopper." This meant that I got to be trained in all lines of business and "hop" (not literally. I have a bad knee) to different locations. I found out soon enough that all Role Hoppers worked at Epcot, and that they were affectionately named the Rescue Rangers. Cute, huh? Like I said, land of euphemisms. Impressionable young adults aren't going to say goodbye to their entire life and move to Florida to work 40 hours a week for 6 bucks an hour if they're called "everybody's bitch," but they certainly won't hesitate to be a "Rescue Ranger."

I had gotten a pretty sweet job offer. Way better than Quick Service Food and Beverage. Way better than practically every other job that the College Program offered. But now came the hard part. Committing. Did I actually want to do this? Sure, interviewing and seeing if you can get a job is all fine and good, but when it comes down to actually packing your bags, saying goodbye, and moving thousands of miles away all by yourself, it takes quite a bit of thinking. And thinking is exactly what I did. A lot of it. I had two weeks to accept or decline the offer...

..and I decided not to do it. It didn't seem worth it. I was transferring to Columbia after sophomore year. This would mean I would be cutting my days as a Bronco even shorter, and I didn't want to leave my friends any sooner than I had to. So, like every other momentous occasion in my life, I waited until the exact last moment possible make a commitment. Literally, the last moment. I was home for Thanksgiving break, and my parents had gone to bed at about 10:00. We had a lengthy discussion and I stuck by my conclusion that Disney wasn't for me. Sure, it seemed like fun, but what was I really going to get out of it? Was it really worth leaving my friends and family, and falling behind in school? Nope. We all broke into song and belted out "It's Your Thing" by the Isley Brothers, and that was that. I was staying at Western for another semester.

It was all but official. I wasn't going to participate in the Walt Disney World College Program.

Then, at 11:55 pm, 5 minutes before the deadline...I accepted the position.

LESSON NUMBER 3: I THINK I'M INDECISIVE. AREN'T I? OR NO?

Why did I accept all of the sudden? I don't know. What changed my mind? Hard to say. I got online and started checking out websites and message boards about the program, and something inside me just clicked. What's strange is that most of the websites and message boards that I visited were condemning the College Program. They were telling me NOT to do it. But, sometimes you just have to go against the grain. I often do things just because people tell me not to. I'm erratic that way. I mean, living in an apartment in Orlando with people from all over the country, working at the "Happiest Place on Earth," getting a serious tan...what could be better?

The next morning, I told my mom that I changed my mind, and that I accepted the job.

She said "good!"


And so that's how it happened. I suppose this isn't so much a part of the Disney story as it is an extremely long and drawn out (but still entertaining, so fuck you) prologue.

In retrospect, I could have just asked my roommates to stop smoking in the house. Instead, I moved to Florida.