Guest: “The waiting times are horribly long! There are too many people!”

Me: “Well this is a famous park; a lot of people want to spend time here with their family.”

Guest: “Well, you should not let so many people in. Look around: there are so many people.”

Me: “We have a security maximum that has not been reached yet. I believe you are a visitor too. Would you have liked for you and your family to be stopped at the entrance after miles of travelling because there are a lot of people in?”

Guest: “Of course not! I paid to come here, and we have wanted to come here for a long time!”

Me: “Well, so do all these people…”

(At the theme park I work at, our name tags have our hometown on them. Despite the fact that I have lived in Orlando since I was an infant, my name tag says I am from Uruguay, since that is where I was born.)

Guest: “It’s so terrible they make you work here.”

Me: “I actually quite enjoy my job. I like seeing people enjoy their vacations.”

Guest: “Yeah, but what about your vacation?”

Me: “My vacation?”

Guest: “They shouldn’t ruin your vacation by making you work.”

Me: “No, I think you misunderstand. I work here. I live in the area, and I go to school down the road. The park isn’t my vacation; it’s my job, and I enjoy it.”

Guest: “Oh, honey., do they tell you to lie? You’re from Uruguay; it would be stupid to commute all this way for a job.”

(I am working in the largest gift shop in the theme park. I am walking around straightening and folding the when I hear a middle-aged guests whistling. After a few moments, I recognize it as the theme tune to ‘The Animaniacs’.)

Me: *singing* “Pinky and the Brain, they want rule the universe…”

Guest: “…Slappy slaps them with her purse…”

Me: “…Buttons chases Mindy while Rita sings a verse!”

Together: “Why write a script? We have no script! Why bother to rehearse? We are the Animaniacs! We have pay-for-play contracts! We are zany to the max, there’s baloney in our slacks! We’re Animany, totally insany—”

Guest: *Wakko voice* “Where’s Lon Chaney?”

Together: “Animaniacs! Those are the facts!”

Guest: *high-fives me* “It was nice jammin’ with you, Dot.”

(I beamed for the rest of the night.)

(I work at a theme park. I have to greet guests and provide them with 3D glasses as they queue for the ride.)

Guest: “Excuse me, what do I do with these?”

Me: “You put them on when you enter the ride.”

Guest: “Put them on where?”

Me: “…on your face.”

Guest: “Oh! I thought maybe they went on my arm!”

Related:
A New Dimension of Stupidity, Part 4
A New Dimension of Stupidity, Part 3
A New Dimension of Stupidity, Part 2
A New Dimension of Stupidity

This story is part of our 3D Movies roundup!

Read the next 3D Movies roundup story!

Read the 3D Movies roundup!

(I work on the ride with the highest height requirement in the park. I am the ‘grouper’—basically I assign the guests to where they sit for the ride, and I am the final say on whether children are tall enough.)

Me: “Hi buddy, could you come stand on this yellow square for me? Nice and tall like a soldier.”

(The child is clearly too short.)

Me: “I’m so sorry, but he is too short to ride.”

Mother: “Please let him ride! All of his other friends have ridden this.”

Me: “I’m sorry; he is too short to ride.”

Mother: “Please, I promise he’s not scared; he won’t cry on the ride.”

Me: “Ma’am, the height stick doesn’t measure courage; it measures height. Your son is too short; I’m sorry.”

Mother: “But he wants to go so badly; he’s been asking all day.”

Me: “Ma’am, your son could come flying out because he’s too short.”

Mother: “OH MY GOD, REALLY?!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. The height requirement is a safety issue. That’s why we take it so seriously.”

Mother: “Oh, I just thought you were mean!”