Sunday night, I was conductor on a train leaving Main Street. Shortly after departure, I thought I smelled smoke, and started looking for the source. Sure enough, a guest was smoking a cigarette about half a car up the train.
"Extinguish that cigarette NOW."
Seemed like simple enough direction, but as usual, the guest was also simple. He took one long drag, then tossed the lit butt overboard... right into a pile of dry leaves in the middle of Adventureland.
So, I hit the E-stop and announced, "Folks, we'll be making a brief stop here. A guest has tossed a lit cigarette from the train and I need to make sure it doesn't set the jungle on fire before we proceed. Please stay in your seats."
By then, the train had come to a complete stop, so I proceeded to step off. Know what? There ain't no platform in the middle of Adventureland! For some reason, I neglected to remember this, and as a result landed way too hard -- as I learned later, tearing a tendon in my leg.
Not satisfied with that, I then tried to stand on that leg and promptly made a four-point landing, bashing both knees into Technicolor splendor. (Polyester costume pants providing no noticable protection.) Gloves saved my hands, but not my dignity.
Just to make sure he added insult to injury, the smoking guest started to laugh at me. One smoking look later, he stopped laughing! (I knew that scowl was useful outside the classroom.)
Limping though the darkened jungle, I found the cigarette, which had indeed started the leaves smoldering, so at least I felt virtuous about "saving the park," no matter how lame I felt otherwise (pun intended).
Naturally, one of the engineers on the train came back to help... just as I was limping back to the train. (Not his fault, it's a long walk through uncooperative landscaping.) I elected to ride back to Frontierland rather than make 300 guests evac in the dark.
Once at Frontierland, I limped forward to the smoker, gave him another patented LOOK, and said, "Don't you ever, EVER, light a cigarette ever again -- here or anywhere else -- unless there's an ashtray within arm's reach. Understand?"
His, "No sir. I won't. I promise,
" was so contrite, I decided to let him stay on board. Yeah, I'm soft. Besides, I couldn't lift my leg far enough to kick him anyway.Again, not wishing to disrupt train operations with three trains and a busy park, I limped downstairs to the greeter position and called for a manager.
Ten minutes later, I paged him again, asking the radio operator to advise him there was an injured cast member. :(
Ten minutes later, word was passed by a trian conductor that the manager would be on the next train. :mad:
Ten minutes later, he wasn't.
Ten minutes and another train later, :twisted: I gave up and called for an Alpha Unit myself. Gotta love Disney efficiency, huh?
Fortunately, Reedy Creek is very efficient, and had me in the Alpha Unit within 4 minutes of my call. Have I mentioned before how much I love the RCID Alpha crews?
By the time the paramedics and I had decided that nothing was broken or worthy of a trip to the emergency room (Cast health services isn't open for cast injured at the late night hour of 6:30pm when the park's open until 10pm), I emerged from the Alpha Unit with an ice pack stuffed in my sock to find... let's not see all the same hands now... right, my manager and my area manager!
Of course, the Disney grapevine had somewhat embellished my story by this time. According to my area manager, I had lept from a moving train and been severely burned while singlehandedly battling a six-foot wall of flames that was threatening to engulf all of Adventureland! :flamethro
And management says we pay too much attention to rumors.
Anyway, I've now got the holidays off, as I'm on "sit-down work only" for the duration, and there aren't any sit-down jobs on the railroad.
I guess the lesson to be learned is to pay attention when you're doing even the routine stuff if you want to keep your body intact. That and to call for an Alpha Unit first and let your manager find out on his own!
Look Duckies!