So now I'm crying at work...

From a recent Reddit AMA of a guy who played Goofy for 20 years at Disney World:

I have one moment that stands out above all the rest. I was waiting for someone to ask me this question. It's the reason I left a good job as a VIP Tourguide and moved to the Character Department.
I was working City Hall one day when two guests came in with two little girls. One was in a wheel chair and the other one looked like she had just seen death. Both were cut and bruised and the one in the wheelchair had her arm in a cast. The two women were actually nurses from a hospital and were asking for a refund on the girl's tickets, something we avoided doing at all costs. When I asked why they told me the story. The two girls were with their mom and dad at Epcot and on the way home they got into a horrible car accident. The mother was beheaded right in front of them. The father eventually died too but the two girls didn't know that yet. They were from overseas and had no money and no contact information for anyone they knew. They were bringing the tickets back to get the girls some much needed money to help get them back home. My heart absolutely sunk. If you had seen these girls you'd know why. They were truly traumatized. I refunded their tickets and got permission to be their private tour guide for the rest of the day (which they were not expecting). I walked them to the VIP viewing area for the parade which was as far as I could walk them in the costume we used to wear at City Hall. I had to leave them there while I put on my VIP costume. On the way down I pulled out every kid joke I could think of. I was a REALLY good tour guide (I helped write part of it) and I knew how to make kids smile. Nothing worked. These girls were too far gone for that. I left them at the bridge to go change, walked backstage and bawled my eyes out. I just had never seen something so horrible. I was truly affected and it was a terrible feeling of powerlessness not being able to fix the situation. When I came back I brought them to get ice-cream, take them on rides and stuff but they never smiled, not once. The nurses were loving it and were trying to get them into it but it just wasn't working. We went back to the bridge to watch the parade. It was there that I honestly saw true magic. Real magic, not bullshit. I had called the parade department to let them know what was going on and set up a private meet and greet after the parade. As the parade was coming around Liberty Square I told the girls that I had called Mickey and told them all about them.

I told them that Mickey asked to meet them after the parade.
The little girl in the wheelchair smiled.
"Really?" she asked. My heart skipped. "Yes, really! He told me to tell you to look out for him in the parade and to follow the float back to City Hall."
The other girl smiled.
"You mean right now?" she asked.

It had worked. They were talking. Not laughing, but talking. It was the first time I had heard them speak. Every single parade performer came up to them on the bridge and told them to look out for Mickey. Every one of them told them that. When Mickey's float came up Mickey (who was attached to a pole at the top of the float) managed to turn her body sideways, look down at the girls and point towards Main Street. That was all it took. The girls were excited now. They had forgotten about death. They were lost in a magical world and I couldn't believe I was watching it unfold in front of my eyes. We followed that float all the way back to City Hall, singing "Mickey Mania" the whole way. Back then, City Hall used to have a VIP lounge behind the desk that was for privacy during difficult situations or to host celebrities. I took them in and showed them the book where all of the autographs were. They were eating it up.

The girl who was Mickey that day (K.T., I will always love you for this) got down off her float and without even taking her head off walked up to me backstage and said "Let's go." I walked in with Mickey behind me so I got to see the exact moment the girls met their new friend. They got shy but Mikey was in control now. Those girls met the REAL Mickey Mouse that day. Every single parade character stayed dressed to meet those girls. One by one they'd come in and play a bit then leave. We were in that lounge for over an hour. Mickey stayed in costume the entire time (which is hard to do after a parade). When Mickey finally said goodbye I had two excited girls on my hands that couldn't stop smiling. They talked and talked and talked. We had a wonderful day after that but what I remember most is when we walked by the rose garden, the older one said "Oh, my mommy loves roses! I mean..." and she stopped. I held out my hand and walked her to the gate, picked her up and put her on the other side and said "Pick one!" She looked happy as she picked out her favorite rose. She didn't say anything more and she didn't need to. I said goodbye to the wonderful nurses and the wonderful girls then walked backstage behind the train station. This time I didn't cry. It felt so good to be a part of that. I realized that as much as I liked helping guests at City Hall, the true magic of Disney was in the character department. I auditioned, transferred and never looked back. Thanks for letting me relive this. It was a special day for me.

Don't call me baby.

If I haven’t told you that I love you then call me by my name. It’s been 2 years since my last relationship ended. I haven’t called anyone anything other than their name since then. It’s actually uncomfortable to hear someone else call me baby, hun, sweetheart, babe, etc. I still have some voicemails from her. I haven’t listen to them in over a year. I’d bet $1000 that each one begins with a nickname.

Nicknames should come naturally. They should make you smile. Your heart should jump a little bit. It’s better when they are unique. Bumbee and Bumblina when together were a Bumble. Why? I don’t know. It just worked out that way and we both loved it. No one tops Panthea in the nickname department. I had so many nicknames for Panthea that I probably can’t remember them all. She didn't like all of them, but they all meant the same thing to me when I said them. She had a few for me and I loved hearing her say each one. I'd go double or nothing that if I listened to the voicemails I still have from her most of them begin with, "Hi, baby." I will never let anyone call me that again. It will never sound right hearing that name from another voice. Although, thinking about it now, near the end of the relationship she used my nicknames less. Maybe that was a sign I never noticed until now. Hmm.

To be clear, it’s not the nicknames I miss. Although snooks and the snugglah were pretty fantastic nicknames, it’s not about the words. Those words are amusing, but the feeling behind them was the same as mon chaton and mon coeur. The closeness and bond between the hearts of two people. I miss feeling that connected. I don’t think it’s possible to have that connection with someone except in a romantic way. A nickname is for a specific person and only that person. You can’t call another person by that same name because they will never fit in your heart that way. There are times that I miss the friendships I had with the 3 women I’ve loved, but being friends with them while they love another person would basically be impossible for me. I’m not that emotionally healthy hah

So what brings this whole thing up? Well, I was on a date this weekend and having a good time. I’ve being seeing this person for around 2 months. We had dinner and then drove on the beach around midnight. We drank coffee, talked, and listened to music. When we got back to my house I went to say her name and I called her Pon. She was around the other side of the truck and probably didn't hear me clearly. My stomach did some flip flops and it put a cold wet towel on the rest of my night. This woman is great, but I’m not in love. The relief is that I don’t believe she is either. She’s been married before and doesn’t want to be married again. With that said, she has started to call me babe on occasion. Meh. She called me baby once and I think the look on my face has kept her from doing that again. 

I call her by her name. I abbreviate it, but it’s still her name. All her friends use the same abbreviation. If she wanted someone else I wouldn’t be devastated. I don’t want to share our lives until the day I die. Does this make me an asshole on some level? Probably. The reality is that if I don't see myself ever asking her to move in with me then I should end it. It would be best for both of us. I’ve become a bit more direct since the break-up. Someone close to me said that I’ve become colder. Maybe I was different during my last relationship and now I’m back to who I was before that on some levels. I haven’t really looked at it enough to say for sure. I think it's pretty normal that you don't present all sides of yourself to each person in your life. I think when the right person comes along, my heart will open back up. Anyway, that’s not the point of this post. I want to go home so lets wrap this up: Keep it simple. Use my name and we’ll get along just fine.