How Disney customer service excels

Just how good is Disney customer service at its theme parks?

I could tell you about all the complaints I get about the mouse (virtually none) or cite the many surveys and polls that suggest its customer service scores are in the stratosphere.

But nothing tells the story like a real experience.

Turns out that the Disney customer service way isn’t about a series of grand gestures, but a lot of little ones that quickly add up. I spent a few days at Disney World earlier this week. Kari, my better half, had been invited there to cover a media event, but the kids and I were there anonymously. You couldn’t tell us apart from the average resort guest.

“I’ll take care of you.” We were in the park on a ridiculously crowded week — spring break for the Massachusetts school district. The throngs of people reminded me of the last half of World War Z. Hordes of the undead were streaming toward and through the park, a river of mindless humanity. On two occasions, my family’s tickets didn’t work, a little hiccup that the “cast” members (that’s what the employees at Disney are called) blamed on the new RFID-enabled wristbands.

“It’s glitchy,” one cast member sighed.

On both occasions, the cast members worked diligently and patiently with us to fix the problem. But the last one really stood out. I was being helped by a young woman at the ticket counter. I couldn’t read her name because her long hair covered her tag, but I could read her hometown: Alpharetta, Ga.

The process of finding my ticket and connecting it to my wristband was taking a while, and a long line started to form behind us. I repeatedly offered to step aside while Alpharetta helped another guest.

She looked at me as if to say, “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll take care of you.”

This Disney customer service concept that the guest in front of you is the most important thing in the world is surely a part of Disney’s basic training. And, of course, Alpharetta got the problem fixed soon after that.

Too often, employees are tasked with worrying about other things, like moving a line along faster or meeting a quota. But, when they’re asked to do that at the expense of a customer’s vacation, it can result in a worse customer experience. Not Disney.

“You left something.” When we checked out of our room at Saratoga Springs, I noticed a girl’s sweatshirt with the words “Princess” printed on the front. It was about three sizes smaller than our princess, who is already nine years old. A previous guest had left it behind.

“What should we do with it?” my daughter asked.

“Just leave it here,” I replied.

So we folded the Princess sweatshirt and placed it on a chest in the bedroom. On our way to the car, we passed a housekeeper, who immediately made eye contact and said “hello.” This is unusual, because the housekeepers at other hotels rarely make eye contact or talk to guests.

As I lifted the last piece of luggage into the car, I heard a familiar voice.

“Sir, excuse me! Sir?”

It was the housekeeper.

“You left something in your room,” she said, waving the sweatshirt. She was out of breath. She’d run to the parking lot, hoping to catch us before our departure.

At most other hotels, that wouldn’t have happened. Believe me, we’ve left so many things behind — I know this. But the housekeeper saw us checking out and quickly inspected the room to make sure we hadn’t forgotten something. She suspected our princess would have been sad without her shirt. How thoughtful.

That disciplined focus on the guest, which is more important than quickly servicing the room, is what makes Disney Disney. As a long-time season pass holder and Orlando resident, I can tell you it’s not an isolated incident. It’s Disney customer service standard operating procedure.

Now, don’t misunderstand me. Disney has plenty of flaws. Every time I visit its parks, I feel manipulated and monetized. But that is what businesses do. The Disney magic is helping you forget how much money you’re spending — and look forward to your next visit.