Don’t get too nice, Anaheim

The cops and concierges, the cabbies and firefighters and gas station attendants who labor by the thousands in the flourishing Anaheim “resort district” are about to be invited to attend -- how shall I say this? -- charm school.

Sure, they could use some sprucing up. Who among us couldn’t?

Next to Kate Moss, every woman is fat. Next to George Clooney, every man is drab. Next to Stephen Hawking, everyone is dumb. And so, next to the cheery, prescribed punctilio of the employees -- the cast members -- at Disneyland, everyone is a dour boor.

Good thing the rest of us get graded on the curve.

When I read The Times story about $90,000 being put up by local merchants, including Disneyland, toward scrubbing up the customer service of the public and private workers who handle tourists in the thronging streets of Anaheim, I wondered, what set that in motion? Did some waiter terrify a Japanese visitor by endorsing the seared ahi as “gnarly”?

No, says Charles Ahlers, who runs the Anaheim/Orange County Visitor and Convention Bureau. It’s more about savvy.

Back when he started working in Anaheim, about 30 years ago, Disneyland was pretty much the only draw, and the city “enjoyed a reputation for customer service. Candidly, a lot’s changed. In order to say we’re customer-centric, we have to prove it.” The charm school “is a way of catching up with our own reputation.”

Everyone, cops to landscapers, should be on the same page with what they know to tell visitors, and how to tell it, Ahlers says. And here’s the part I love: They’re going to do it “with Mickey’s help.”

Not the trademarked rodent across the road. Mickey Schaefer heads an eponymous Tucson firm that’s doing the training. When she wore her “Mickey” name tag in Anaheim a while back, two little kids saw it and told her indignantly that she certainly was not Mickey. The little girl further informed her that she was Minnie. That’s the power of a brand.

Her training program isn’t Mickey Mouse white gloves and tea-time Emily Post: “We’re teaching a behavior change.” In client cities from Washington to Phoenix, she’s been astounded at how little people know of the basic rules and attitudes of customer service -- starting with the Golden Rule.

She was visiting New York when I phoned her. She happened to be in view of Ellis Island. Imagine, she said, a New York worker, public or private, who couldn’t tell a tourist about Ellis Island.

So Schaefer’s curriculum builds in history: “You walk by a statue all your life and you don’t know who it is, and all of a sudden you find out it’s one of the founders” of your city. Her Anaheim students will learn how the place got its name (from the German immigrants 150 years ago) and why Walt set up shop here (enough real estate).

Schaefer has a thing about not just the words people use but the attitude they convey. “My bad” is out. It’s “I’m sorry, my fault.” Likewise, “sweeeeet!” as a synonym for “great.” And never, ever answer “thank you” with “no problem” -- because, as she says, “ ‘no’ and ‘problem’ are both negative words.”

I could get behind this, up to a point. Start with the gas station clerk who couldn’t even look up from his video game on Monday and grunt an acknowledgment when I put 30 bucks on the counter and asked for regular on pump No. 7. But I’d hate to see civilian Anaheim turned into Disney Anaheim. It’s an unsettlingly small world after all, but I hope not that small. We all want good manners, but don’t visitors want a little local color, not “Great Moments with Mr. Waiter” robotics? Beijing’s Olympic makeover is going so far that residents might not know the place. Is it really Beijing if the cabbies don’t smoke and spit and smell a little? New York has tried to hammer niceness into its taxi drivers too, but if the airport cabbie who picks you up at JFK acts like the queen’s butler, wouldn’t you think you’d landed at the wrong airport?

If I were visiting Orange County from, say, Japan, and the waiter called the seared ahi “gnarly,” or a motorcycle cop slipped and called me “dude” -- well, I’d be tickled. I’d take home a more authentic California souvenir than a pair of board shorts from a surf styles chain store in Downtown Disney.

Now that’s sweeeeet.

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patt.morrison@latimes.com