Theme park cast member stories: The quest for overtime
Published: June 29, 2009 at 10:21 AM
Why? Because big crowds meant one thing to me... overtime.
Working overtime not only meant extra hours in my weekly paycheck, it meant a 50 percent pay increase for those hours, as well. So I and everyone else I worked with at the MK did just about everything we could to score as much overtime as we could stand.
Robert, in Thunder Mountain garb, rolling out the parade route in Liberty Square.
Now "as much as we could stand" varied wildly from employee to employee, as you might expect. As enthusiastic 20-something, I had the will and stamina to work long hours. And since I wasn't that into the cast member party scene, I usually didn't have anywhere better to go, either. So on holidays like the Fourth, I aimed for an opening shift, then volunteered to extend my day as long as I could find a location that would have me.
Back in my day at the MK, any time worked over eight hours in a day was paid at the time-and-a-half overtime rate. If you were really good at working the schedule, and could get more than 16 hours in a shift, that time was paid at double your usual hourly rate.
All time worked on a sixth or seventh day in the work week also was paid at the time-and-a-half rate. And all full-time employees got eight hours of holiday pay on the Fourth, whether they worked it or not.
Finally, if you had less than six hours between the end of one shift and the beginning of the next, you started that second shift at the same pay rate that you ended the previous one. This "shift differential" was key in hitting the double-time jackpot on holidays. Work through the late close (as late as 2 am), then come back for an opening shift the next day (around 7am) and you could start the day on overtime, moving swiftly to double-time, once you hit the 8 hours of overtime mark.
The most lucrative shift I ever worked came one New Year's Day, after working late on New Year's Eve and picking up an opening lead shift when dozens of other cast members called in, uh, "sick." But I'll leave that story for later.
There were three basic rules for extending:
1) Extend at a different location. Working your second shift at a different location helped break up the monotony of a long day.
2) Try to extend into a shift that would send you to a parade. Several attractions shifts were assigned to go to parade audience control (PAC) for a couple of hours during their shift. Scoring one of these meant, again, more variety and less monotony - key to staying alert and engaged during a long, long day. Plus, working at Disney is a social experience. Going to parade meant seeing another dozen or so of your friends that you wouldn't have gotten to see otherwise that day.
3) Avoid extending at theater shows. It's okay to start a double-shift day at someplace like Bear Band (Country Bear Jamboree), Tikis or the Hall of Presidents. Heck, that'd help you save energy for later in the day. But ending your day sitting through the shows is no way to stay awake.
If you wanted to extend, you let your lead know early in the day, making calls around to other locations if your lead wouldn't do that for you. If you didn't get a yes right away, you might get an extra shift later, when people started calling in sick or not showing for their shifts.
The last Fourth I worked, I opened at Tom Sawyer Island, reporting for work just before 9am. My seven-hour shift ended after the 3pm parade, but I knew I wouldn't be going home then. I knew that the park would need as many people as it could get to work crowd control for the parades and fireworks that night, so after working crowd control for the afternoon parade, I extended with the PAC group for the rest of the evening.
I walked downstairs to the tunnels to change from my TSI gear into the PAC costume (white short-sleeved shirt, grey polyester slacks, and burgundy striped tie), then set out with a few other crew members to step up ropes and stanchions for the evening.
The Fourth keeps you busy as a cast member. You've got to keep the Liberty Square bridge clear for night parade to pass, shooing away folks trying to camp out for good places to see the awesome special fireworks show. Guests will commandeer benches and chairs and move them to places one wouldn't think possible. I once confronted two teens who'd moved chairs from the Liberty Square cookie stand on to the roof of one of the local shops.
After the parade, we moved swiftly to rope up three lanes across Liberty Square bridge, rolling out the stanchions we'd stashed in the middle of the bridge. The lane closest to Castle would be for folks to stand still and watch the fireworks. The one in middle would be for walking from the hub to Liberty Square. The one farthest from Castle would be for walking from Liberty Square back to the hub.
At some point the hub would fill and the people trying to exit Liberty Square would have nowhere to go. At that point, we'd cut access to bridge and direct people either to the left up the path toward Fantasyland, or to the right through what was then a backstage path toward the Adventureland bridge and Main Street. (Disney's since created a permanent guest pathway along that route.) About a half hour before the fireworks began, the park achieved total gridlock, and there was nothing to do but chat up the folks around you and wait for the show.
After the show, we made ourselves as tall as we could be, then started waving or flashlights over our heads, in the direction of Main Street, while shouting "Please keep moving" at the mostly immobile crowd. I'm sure that folks became a bit annoyed at our constand pleading, but we had no choice.
Yeah, we wanted the crowd to move. But mostly we needed to keep moving, too. After 14-16 hours that day in the park, the last thing many of us wanted to do was just stand there watching, like whatever poor soul was stuck that hour in the Bear Band theater.
Got a fun story about a park on the Fourth (working or attending)? Share it in the comments, please.