The Happiest Place on Earth…for pedophiles

I was at Disneyland with The Girlfriend trying to recuperate from the 451 degree temperature outside. We noticed a kid run by us, screaming with tears in his eyes. He was a tiny lad–The Girlfriend said he looked to be about three-years old but I’m never good at that sorta assessment. What I am good at is recognizing other people’s misery. The kid was bawling hysterically and my immediate assumption was the kid was lost. But then I saw a pack of 12-year old girls flock to his aid and figured one of them had to be his sister. The girls’ behavior struck me a particular. They kept their distance from the boy; trying to engage in conversation but were intentionally avoiding contact. A sister would pick up or hug her crying little brother. Something seemed amiss and that’s when I intervened.

“Is he lost,” I asked the girls.

They said yes and he started screaming “I want my mommy!”

“Where did you last see her?” He pointed in the direction he came from–completely far from where we were.

“We need to find a cast member.” With Disneyland routinely welcoming more than 40,000 guests a day, a lost child is not that uncommon (that being said, what kinda clueless parent loses their kid). I figured it was best to let the professionals handle this. It was a much better plan than the girls had: they were asking random strangers if the boy was their kid.

I walked the kid and the girls over to the nearest cast member I saw (what an entourage that must’ve looked like). “Excuse me Evan, we have a lost child here.”

In retrospect, I shoulda seen the confusion in his eyes and moved on to someone else (preferably a woman). Evan looked to be about 20-years old and completely unsure how to handle the situation. “Uh, okay,” he said. He then asked the lost kid where he lost his parents and the kid again pointed towards the great beyond.

I can’t imagine what it would feel like to be a lost kid–this little guy was hysterical and I couldn’t blame him. Until I cornered him, he was running around frantically in search of his parents. When I turned him over to Evan, the kid took off again. I watched as Evan and the girls followed after him. Seeing how I was unnecessary at this point, I walked in the other direction. There was no need for me to hang around and complicate the matters. A Disney employee was aware of the situation and Disney has a procedure for when these sorta things happen. The Girlfriend and I went on a couple rides and considered the matter closed.

A while later, I saw Evan at the same post I left him. “Hi Evan. Did that boy find his parents?”

“I don’t know,” Evan said. “He ran off and I didn’t see him again. I’m sure he did.”

“He ran off?” What did that mean?

“Yeah–he went that way,” he said, pointing in the direction I saw Evan and the kid heading last. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

I walked away from the situation pretty shocked. That was an awfully confident, easy-going approach Evan had. Disneyland was a big place for a three-year old to be wandering around alone. I would think–at the bare minimum–you walk with the kid until you see him jump into someone’s arms. To assume he found his parents because the kid hasn’t been seen is friggin’ stupid. And being a Disney employee has nothing to do with it: how about some good old fashion common sense?

It didn’t sit well with me. Later on that evening we walking past Guest Services and I realized I had to say something. Not that Evan needed to get fired: maybe just Disney needed to remind its cast members that lost children were a priority. At least I’d think it’s a priority. I doubt anyone would argue with me. No matter what that employee is doing–sweeping the floor, picking up trash, or marching in a parade–that should immediately be put on hold to make sure the proper steps are taken so a lost child can find his parents. At the very least, hand the kid over to the proper Disney authorities. I doubt those who were waiting in line for the Matterhorn would care (what’s another five minutes on top of the 45 you’ve spent). Anyone with an ounce of compassion would understand (trust me on this–’cause an ounce of compassion is pretty much all I have). At this point, the little blonde boy I saw was abducted by a child molester or found his parents…so it was too late for him. But at the very least, I figured Guest Services might wanna be aware of what happened?

And ya know what? They didn’t give a damn.

They said that Evan properly handled the situation. That Disney employees are forbidden to ‘restrain’ lost children and if the child wants to run around, they aren’t allowed to stop him (even into on-coming trains?). “We’ve never lost a child here at Disneyland,” she proudly said. “Everyone gets reunited with their parents.”

That sounds like the worst, crappiest policy I’ve ever heard. Not allowed to restrain a child? We’re talking about a hysterical three-year old boy. He was running around frantically with no rhyme or reason. If the kid is clearly lost, pick up him and carry his ass over to Guest Services! What’s he supposed to do? Does Disney expect the kid to know how to get there by himself?

If anything, this policy just encourages freaks to do some kidnapping. Why not? Disneyland is like a smorgasbord to pedophiles. Kids are everywhere. With the massive crowds around, it’s not hard for someone to wander too far away from their parents. On a day like today, anyone watching could tell this kid was lost. When he started running off, any creep coulda grabbed him. You’d think when it comes to a lost child Disney would wanna do everything possible to protect that child.

But I guess that’s secondary to Disney protecting its own ass. The cast members are probably not allowed to touch the children because they wanna avoid any sexual abuse lawsuits. I can see it happening: a parent sees deep pockets and accuses Disney of something to simply fortify their retirement fund. That’s a little too PC in my book. You’re not restraining a three-year old: you’re trying to gain control of a potentially bad situation.

I’d be real curious about the number of pedophiles that hunt at Disneyland. Trust me, if they wanted they’d have numerous options. Children are plentiful thee. You have your choice of blonde, brunette, black, white, boy, girl. You name: Disneyland has it…the Happiest Place on Earth.