Cirque du Stupíd
Posted: Wed Mar 24, 2010 9:33 pm
A story of acrobatics, stupidity, and the Mouse for you all to share:
As a group of SGs waited under the bus shelter at the resort for their transport, it was raining pretty hard. The bus shelter had a cross-section like the letter A with a round top -- two rows of posts connected by horizontal bars, with an arched roof over that. No walls, and the wind was whipping the rain in like the roof didn't count.
Do SGs let that stop them? No they do not, alas. Three of them decided they just had to have a dry place to wait, because after all, they were headed to a theme park, and we all know it never rains there!
The place they found was atop those horizontal cross-bars, the ones about eight foot above the concrete platform. Yup, there they were, having somehow managed to climb up there, sitting on the beams and dangling their feet at just the right height to smack other unsuspecting guests right in the face.
Now every CM would have their own distinctive way of dealing with this situation (or not dealing with it, depending). Mine was to walk down the platform, right underneath the kids, and another 12 feet or so until I was in front of them. I came to an abrupt stop, did a military about-face, and simply scowled at them for a few moments, staring at each in turn.
When it appeared that one of them was about to speak, I did so first. One word, "DOWN!" using the tone of voice I picked up from twenty years of teaching. As expected, they dropped from the overhead at once. (To my surprise -- and more than a little disappointment -- none injured themselves in the process.)
Again, I stared while they squirmed. Again, I waited until one was about to speak and interrupted, "I have just one question for you knuckleheads: How often do you think Disney cleans the pigeon poop off those bars?"
As they were checking their butts, I marched past them and back into the hotel.
It was all a very near thing. Not that I was ever worried about discipline from calling them knuckleheads, but I was quite concerned that I couldn't hold that scowl long enough to pull it off.
As a group of SGs waited under the bus shelter at the resort for their transport, it was raining pretty hard. The bus shelter had a cross-section like the letter A with a round top -- two rows of posts connected by horizontal bars, with an arched roof over that. No walls, and the wind was whipping the rain in like the roof didn't count.
Do SGs let that stop them? No they do not, alas. Three of them decided they just had to have a dry place to wait, because after all, they were headed to a theme park, and we all know it never rains there!
The place they found was atop those horizontal cross-bars, the ones about eight foot above the concrete platform. Yup, there they were, having somehow managed to climb up there, sitting on the beams and dangling their feet at just the right height to smack other unsuspecting guests right in the face.
Now every CM would have their own distinctive way of dealing with this situation (or not dealing with it, depending). Mine was to walk down the platform, right underneath the kids, and another 12 feet or so until I was in front of them. I came to an abrupt stop, did a military about-face, and simply scowled at them for a few moments, staring at each in turn.
When it appeared that one of them was about to speak, I did so first. One word, "DOWN!" using the tone of voice I picked up from twenty years of teaching. As expected, they dropped from the overhead at once. (To my surprise -- and more than a little disappointment -- none injured themselves in the process.)
Again, I stared while they squirmed. Again, I waited until one was about to speak and interrupted, "I have just one question for you knuckleheads: How often do you think Disney cleans the pigeon poop off those bars?"
As they were checking their butts, I marched past them and back into the hotel.
It was all a very near thing. Not that I was ever worried about discipline from calling them knuckleheads, but I was quite concerned that I couldn't hold that scowl long enough to pull it off.
