THE FINE ART OF LOOKING LIKE YOU BELONG
A friend once asked me an interesting question.
“How is it that you seem to be able to walk into just about any place you want, and nobody ever stops you or asks what you’re doing there?”
The answer was surprisingly simple. Act like you belong there.
It’s a little trick I learned a very long time ago, and one that has served me remarkably well throughout my life. The secret isn’t necessarily knowing someone, having special credentials, or possessing some extraordinary ability to talk your way past security. It’s about confidence. Walk with purpose. Look like you know exactly where you’re going. And, perhaps most importantly, never give anyone a reason to wonder why you’re there.
This philosophy has enabled me to wander onto movie sets, construction sites, political events, and all sorts of places where the general public wasn’t necessarily invited. Of course, being a commercial photographer helped. I was accustomed to working in unusual locations, surrounded by crews, equipment, security personnel, and people who were far too busy doing their jobs to question everyone walking past them. And sometimes, a little theatrical assistance made all the difference.
Which brings me to Disneyland.
Yes, there was a time when I could get into Disneyland without paying a penny. And no, I didn’t climb over a fence, sneak through a service entrance, or hide inside a delivery truck . I simply walked through the front gate. I had a prop.
The Magic of a Walkie-Talkie
You have to remember that this was a very different era. Today, practically anyone can purchase a small two-way radio on Amazon or pick one up at Costco. They’re inexpensive, compact, and about as impressive as a television remote. But back then, walkie-talkies were something special. They were large, expensive, professional-looking devices, generally carried by police officers, firefighters, security personnel, and people working in industries that required constant communication. If you saw someone walking around with a walkie-talkie, you naturally assumed that person had some sort of authority.
As a commercial photographer, I owned several walkie-talkies that we used on large location shoots. When you’re directing a production with assistants, lighting crews, stylists, and equipment scattered across a large area, being able to communicate instantly makes life considerably easier.
For Disneyland I’d put on a pair of dark sunglasses, carry a walkie-talkie in one hand, and approach the entrance with the confident stride of someone who had important business to attend to. As I passed the security personnel, I’d give them a subtle wink and a little pointing gesture with my free hand. Nothing dramatic. Just a casual acknowledgment, as though we were all part of the same operation.
The unspoken message was clear. I’m working. You know the routine. Don’t make a fuss. And just like that, I was inside Disneyland. No ticket. No questions. No problem.
But getting into Disneyland was only half the adventure. Getting onto the rides was just an extension of the same trick. We became undercover security officers. We would casually select someone in the crowd and pretend we were keeping that person under surveillance. With a subtle tilt of the head, a discreet point of the finger, and an occasional serious glance toward our walkie-talkies, we’d create the impression that we were following a suspicious individual.
Naturally, we couldn’t allow our imaginary suspect to get away. If that person boarded a ride, well, we had no choice but to follow. Ride attendants would sometimes wave us through, allowing us to bypass the lines and climb aboard. On occasion, we even managed to ride a couple times without having to get back in line. All it took was a little confidence, a convincing prop, and maintaining a perfectly serious expression while doing something completely ridiculous.
Every Good Act Eventually Comes to an End
As it turned out, our luck had already begun to run out. On a subsequent visit, we approached the entrance with our usual confidence, sunglasses in place and walkie-talkies at the ready. But this time, something was different. Apparently, Disneyland had installed cameras at the entrance, and someone had been paying attention.
We were informed that they’d seen us pull this little trick before.
Our undercover careers had officially come to an end.
I suppose we should have been embarrassed. After all, we’d been caught impersonating something we clearly weren’t, using a pair of walkie-talkies and a little amateur theater to outwit the Happiest Place on Earth. I couldn’t help finding the whole thing amusing.
Ah well. It was fun while it lasted.
