Many years ago I had a friend who loved to go to Disneyland – even though he was in his mid-30s and had no kids. He’d spend an entire week there. I, on the other hand, preferred to spend my vacation on the beach or at a lake.
Over lunch one day, I asked him why he liked Disney so much. He told me about going to Epcott during the International Food Festival where he visited dozens of different “countries” sampling their food and beer. He gushed about the hotel room, the cleanliness of all of the parks and the friendly helpfulness of the staff throughout the different parks.
He said, “When you are at Disney, you feel like they did all of this just for you. Imagine spending a week on vacation where people act like you are the most important person the world. That’s why I love it!”
That I can understand.
Years later, I visited Disney for work conferences. It was extremely clean. The staff was overly solicitous with huge smiles plastered other faces at all times (so much, that I actually felt sorry for them). To me, it felt like an unrealistic representation of an idealized place. Everything was a little too polished, a little too pristine and a little too staged. This, combined with my aversion to crowded places, trade shows and mandatory work conferences, was enough to keep me from ever returning to Disney for a real vacation.
But, like I said at the beginning of this post, I can appreciate being treated like I am the most important person in the world – even if it is only for a moment.
A few days ago, when my regular pool was closed for maintenance I visited my “backup pool” at the YMCA. When I entered, the check-in lady flashed me a huge smile and shouted out Good Morning! I scanned my card, and she welcomed me by name, asked how I was doing and asked if I needed any help.
I did not.
But she made me feel like I was the most important man in the world and that she was thrilled I had come to the YMCA.
It was really kind of nice.