We recently returned from two days in the "happiest place on earth." For a mere $143 per person, we enjoyed two days of park hopping, churro eating, parade watching, merry-go-round riding, and - most notably - line waiting. The majority of our time was spent waiting.
We waited in bathroom lines. Food lines. Ride lines. Traffic lanes. We waited for shuttles. We waited for Parades. We waited with foxes inside of boxes. Most of the time it did not bother us to wait. We were in good company and equally good spirits.
There were a few times when it was almost unbearable. These usually occurred toward the end of the day or when our collective blood sugar dropped between semi-satisfying meals from the staggering array of Magic Kingdom Eats. The weather cooperated for the most part. Although there was no snow, it was still way too cold for this 155-pound computer nerd from Arizona.
My brother is five months away from graduation. He completed his undergraduate studies at Brigham Young University with a degree in accounting a few years ago. Because that was not stimulating enough for the left side of his brain, he decided to pursue an MBA in Supply Chain Management at Arizona State University after taking a break to work in New York. (Side note: If you're looking for an incredibly talented, pulsating brain attached to a soft-spoken, 6' 4", freckle-faced redhead with a crazy sense of humor, you should seriously consider hiring him before someone else does.) (Seriously.) (Do it.) (Here's a link to his Facebook Profile.) (Why are you still reading my blog?) (Don't you want to introduce yourself to your new star employee?)
About a year ago, this pulsating-brain-brother gave me a copy of a Harvard Business School paper entitled The Psychology of Waiting Lines. (The author, David Maister, has made the full text available on his website or as a PDF download.) I found this paper while organizing all my papers from last semester, and I wish I would have read it before we went to Disneyland to wait in all those lines.
Maister writes about what he calls the First and Second Laws of Service, as well as 8 Principles of Waiting. I won't get into all of the nitty-gritty, but if you're into this sort of thing you should definitely go read the entire paper. From personal experience, Maister is [insert British accent] spot on [end British accent] with his observations and conclusions.
One observation specifically mentioned Disneyland and their sneaky tactics to keep waiting lines happy. It has to do with Maister's first Principle of Waiting: Unoccupied Time Feels Longer than Occupied Time. This segment is included in the Harvard Business School version of the paper, but appears to be omitted in the version on Maister's website. (Reader: "Hey Alan! How can something appear to be omitted? If it's omitted, doesn't that mean you can't see it?" Alan: "Hey Reader! Shut up and read, will you? If your name is Reader, shouldn't you be reading instead of asking questions?" Reader: "Touché.") Maister writes:
The sense of movement can be seen at Disneyland, where the length of the line for a given ride is often "disguised" by bending it around corners so that the customer cannot judge the total length of the line. Because the rate at which Disney can load people onto the rides, the actual wait is not that long. However, the sight of a large number of people waiting might make it seem long. By focusing the customers' attention on the rate of progress rather that the length of the line, the waiting experience is enhanced.
While I cannot confirm that Disney himself ever loaded someone onto a ride, I
can confirm that the lines at Disneyland bend more than a beginner yoga class at the local YMCA. The slightest movement by someone 150 feet ahead of you causes a ripple movement around the snakey line which ensures a constant feeling that you're inching closer to your final destination. The fact that the line wraps around the corner 53 times gives you the false hope that "we're almost there! I can smell it!"
Sorry. You're not almost there. And that isn't the ride you're smelling.
It's a churro. And that will be $7, m'am.
