PLK: And so it begins…
Archive - Andrew's JunkAuthor: Andrew Traweek
Yep, kiddies. I’m back with a whole new round of the “Dysfunctional Park” series. Same old antics, new park.
*NOTE: The names in this story have been changed not to protect the identity of those involved, but rather to cover my butt from a libel suit.
Back in the Spring of 2001, I decided it was time to get another job at an amusement park. Since I don’t live close enough to any of the larger parks, I decided to go back to my roots and work for a small family fun center named “Happy Ancient Egypt Land” in Radlands, California.
“Happy Ancient Egypt Land” seemed like the perfect park to work at. There were plenty of newer rides (as opposed to the 40-year old attractions at Santa’s Village), lots of hot chicks working there, and some really nice views of the female lifeguards at the water park.
Soon after being inducted as a cast member (yeah, the Human Resources director was a Disneyland CM, so he figured he’d rip off Disney’s terminology.), I realized that this wasn’t the perfect park. I would work another six-months at the place until I realized just how grossly I had underestimated the death factor of this park.
My first day on the job was a rainy day in the middle of the week. My task; work with a few other incompetent new hires to paint the ground on the Midway. Now, here comes a bit of foreshadowing on just how retarded this place was… we were given buckets of red water-based paint. Water-based… in the rain!? What the hell was my supervisor smoking?
Any who, my comrades in paint decided they’d much rather go smoke a doobie underneath the Thunderbolt than paint the ground. (Who could blame them?) So I was left by myself, wet, hungry, and cold. I continued to paint the ground, and actually made greater strides by myself than I did with my two stoner buddies. When I left that day, my areas had been painted meticulously; trimmed footers, nice clean lines along the fences, etc. The stoner areas looked like Delta Burke sat on a barrel full of paint, and the damned thing exploded. Paint all over the rides, footprints, and spots of paint that I swear were 12-inces thick.
After a long day, my supervisor asked me to accompany her to the GM’s office. I was then introduced to the General Manager as “The greatest guy we’ve ever hired… he’s an enthusiast! He even has a Magic Mountain Season Pass!”
If I knew that title would bring the crap with it that I had to put up with, I would have told the GM to shove it right then and there. But hey, hindsight is always 20/20, right?
By the end of my second week, the foundation of the park began to crumble. People that had been Leads for two-years were busted down to ride operators, simply because of their sex. This pissed me off to no end, since by now, I was already good friends with the majority of the operators and leads. That is until I was approached by the Human Resources Director and my Supervisor, asking me if I think I could handle running the park as a Lead. I was extremely happy, yet at the same time, heartbroken that I had been the one chosen to replace one of my really good friends.
The very next day, I started as Opening Lead. My first day was not an easy one by any stretch of the imagination. Some genius decided to schedule a car show inside the park. We had lowriders blocking every pathway, ride entrance, and emergency evacuation corridors. Fire Marshall Bill would have had a field day with this park if he’d seen that! Not only that, but my ride operators didn’t even start showing up until 2 hours after the Midway should have opened. I somehow ran eleven rides with only four operators until the other lazy bums decided to drag their asses in.
Flash forward to dusk. The cars are finally leaving after a day of utter insanity, the park is empty. No one around to ride anything. I radioed in that the Midway was dead, with ride counts on each ride under ten for the whole day. For some reason, they wanted me to keep everything open, and pay people to stay when we didn’t need them. Hey, it wasn’t my money… what should I care?
So, I kept everyone on, (at time ½ mind you), and tried to alleviate everyone’s boredom by frequently visiting them, and giving them four or five breaks in a two-hour period.
From that point on, I fell right into my old routine from Santa’s Village. A healthy blend of sexual harassment, extra-long cigarette breaks, and riding rides. But there was something missing. I wasn’t quite sure what it was though. Oh yeah… no retarded goats to feed nachos to. Awwww, I miss the goats!