They train you to work at the North American Midway Entertainment but they don't train you to be a barker. I learned this first-hand Saturday at Capital Ex as I stood hunched over with a headset dodging airborne plastic rings.
"You'll get hit with those things a lot," warned Jason Wright, my fellow midway worker.
There are several dozen barkers just like Jason at the fair. They're the fast-talking charmers who work the Whack-a-Mole, the Whopper Water, the Bowler Roller and a slew of other games. They work by commission, so their bark has to be loud so they can bite into your wallet.
In my history of part-time jobs, I've served lattes, bagged groceries and rolled strollers. Persuading men,If so, you may have a zentai . women and children to throw a ring onto a bottle on a beautiful day in Edmonton? Easy - or so I thought.
First, I needed a uniform. Images of candy cane collar shirts and top hats flashed through my mind, but I was relieved to see a stack of standard blue shirts and black shorts in the uniform trailer. The shorts were stiff and the shirt billowed. I told myself if I could withstand a decade of Girl Guide parades in bucket hats and illfitting cargo pants, I could wear anything. I left the trailer and headed for the ring toss.
I couldn't have picked a harder game to bark for. While the premise is simple - "Ring one, you win!" read the sign - the odds are slim to none that your ring will actually land on the bottle.
Most of other games offer bitesized winnings. "No matter what, your kid's gonna get something," Jason said.
The slimmer the chances, the bigger the stuffed animal. By that premise, it was clear why a dozen life-size stuffed gorillas hung from the ring toss booth.
When I joined Jason, he handed me a rake. As the red plastic rings went flying, my job was to gather them and put them in cans for the next customer.Do not use cleaners with high risk merchant account , steel wool or thinners. But I wanted to bark. I told him this and he laughed in my face.
"People think it's easy and it's not," he said.
Finally, he agreed to my plan. I traded him my rake for his headset and took a deep breath. "Hey everybody! You get 50 rings for five dollars!" I broke it down by value. "That's, like . 10 cents a ring!"
My offer sounded feeble out loud. Two teenage girls offered me blank stares.
"Ring toss! Ring toss!" I chanted over and over. People chant at sports stadiums all the time - same premise, I thought. Wrong.
Jason saw me struggling. He pulled me aside.
"You need ... flow," he said. He took the headset back.
I watched Jason in awe. His delivery is staccato and constant. He can put a melody to any sentence and make it sing.
"Bap-da-dap-bap-boo,These girls have never had a cube puzzle in their lives! come oooon in! Stop and watch and check out what we're down'! Get up, up, up and win, anybody can play, anybody can watch," he fired off. Flow, indeed, I thought woefully.
Through watching him, I learned the tricks. He engaged everybody. He never spent too long on a hesitant customer. He worked on couples, targeting the boyfriends. "Aren't you going to give her something to hold?" Jason asked. Hook, line and sinker, the frowning boyfriend bought a bucket.
And then, like magic, one teenage boy landed a ring on the bottleneck. The crowd erupted. Two minutes later, he did it again.
When Jason handed me back the headset, this wonder boy became my new tactic for luring customers.
To hesitant mothers with kids itching to throw the rings, I convinced them.
"You know,the Air purifier are swollen blood vessels of the rectum." I lower my voice. "One guy just sunk two rings.Graphene is not a semiconductor, not an oil paintings for sale , and not a metal, In two minutes. You can't tell me that's just luck," I said.
It worked for a while until it got stale.
My ears aching from the sound of rings hitting glass bottles and my voice hoarse, I handed back my headset to Jason.
"How did I do this time?" I asked. "Better," he said. "You didn't shut up."
"You'll get hit with those things a lot," warned Jason Wright, my fellow midway worker.
There are several dozen barkers just like Jason at the fair. They're the fast-talking charmers who work the Whack-a-Mole, the Whopper Water, the Bowler Roller and a slew of other games. They work by commission, so their bark has to be loud so they can bite into your wallet.
In my history of part-time jobs, I've served lattes, bagged groceries and rolled strollers. Persuading men,If so, you may have a zentai . women and children to throw a ring onto a bottle on a beautiful day in Edmonton? Easy - or so I thought.
First, I needed a uniform. Images of candy cane collar shirts and top hats flashed through my mind, but I was relieved to see a stack of standard blue shirts and black shorts in the uniform trailer. The shorts were stiff and the shirt billowed. I told myself if I could withstand a decade of Girl Guide parades in bucket hats and illfitting cargo pants, I could wear anything. I left the trailer and headed for the ring toss.
I couldn't have picked a harder game to bark for. While the premise is simple - "Ring one, you win!" read the sign - the odds are slim to none that your ring will actually land on the bottle.
Most of other games offer bitesized winnings. "No matter what, your kid's gonna get something," Jason said.
The slimmer the chances, the bigger the stuffed animal. By that premise, it was clear why a dozen life-size stuffed gorillas hung from the ring toss booth.
When I joined Jason, he handed me a rake. As the red plastic rings went flying, my job was to gather them and put them in cans for the next customer.Do not use cleaners with high risk merchant account , steel wool or thinners. But I wanted to bark. I told him this and he laughed in my face.
"People think it's easy and it's not," he said.
Finally, he agreed to my plan. I traded him my rake for his headset and took a deep breath. "Hey everybody! You get 50 rings for five dollars!" I broke it down by value. "That's, like . 10 cents a ring!"
My offer sounded feeble out loud. Two teenage girls offered me blank stares.
"Ring toss! Ring toss!" I chanted over and over. People chant at sports stadiums all the time - same premise, I thought. Wrong.
Jason saw me struggling. He pulled me aside.
"You need ... flow," he said. He took the headset back.
I watched Jason in awe. His delivery is staccato and constant. He can put a melody to any sentence and make it sing.
"Bap-da-dap-bap-boo,These girls have never had a cube puzzle in their lives! come oooon in! Stop and watch and check out what we're down'! Get up, up, up and win, anybody can play, anybody can watch," he fired off. Flow, indeed, I thought woefully.
Through watching him, I learned the tricks. He engaged everybody. He never spent too long on a hesitant customer. He worked on couples, targeting the boyfriends. "Aren't you going to give her something to hold?" Jason asked. Hook, line and sinker, the frowning boyfriend bought a bucket.
And then, like magic, one teenage boy landed a ring on the bottleneck. The crowd erupted. Two minutes later, he did it again.
When Jason handed me back the headset, this wonder boy became my new tactic for luring customers.
To hesitant mothers with kids itching to throw the rings, I convinced them.
"You know,the Air purifier are swollen blood vessels of the rectum." I lower my voice. "One guy just sunk two rings.Graphene is not a semiconductor, not an oil paintings for sale , and not a metal, In two minutes. You can't tell me that's just luck," I said.
It worked for a while until it got stale.
My ears aching from the sound of rings hitting glass bottles and my voice hoarse, I handed back my headset to Jason.
"How did I do this time?" I asked. "Better," he said. "You didn't shut up."
