Growing up in a small town in the Midwest, summers were always a time for picnics, outdoor barbecues, fishing along the Little Vermilion River, riding one’s bike to the local A&W, playing whiffle ball until late in the evening and carnivals.
We spent the rest of the afternoon setting up the booth, which wasn’t really much of a booth compared to the other ones going up around us. It was comprised of two-by-fours to form a square with four more two-by-fours to support it at each corner which were used to string a strand of light bulbs along the perimeter of the booth with two more strands of light bulbs criss-crossing the booth overhead.
At this point Rick and I were wondering what kind of game of chance we were going to be running when the tall carny yelled for us to help him carry some boxes from a van.
“Glasses?” I inquired when I looked at one of the boxes.
“That’s right,” said the carny, “and you kids be careful not to break any or it comes out of your pay.”
When we got back to the booth, the carny opened one of the boxes that was filled with schooner-like beer glasses with Pabst Blue Ribbon embossed on the side. Other boxes contained Michelob, Miller High Life, Falstaff, and Budweiser schooners.
We opened up more of the boxes that contained bowls of various sizes as well as candy dishes.
In the center of the booth some of the boxes were stacked upon which was laid a piece of plywood. Then another level was created and finally another one. Finally, after the three levels had been formed, the glasses, dishes, and bowls were set out on the three different levels.
Then the tall carny told us the object of the game.
“A customer stands outside the booth and tosses a nickel into one of the schooners or dishes,” he said. “If the coin stays inside, the customer wins that glass or dish.”
Then he told us that we had to say something to attract customers.
“A nickel to play, a nickel to win,” he said, “you get it in, you’re gonna win.”
It sure didn’t sound like much. Not like the other more interesting games like knocking over milk bottles or throwing darts at balloons. Those games had really cool prizes like huge stuffed teddy bears. We just had beer glasses.
“Now what you want to do is try to give customers shiny new nickels,” said the carny. “When they’re new, they slide out of the glass or dish easily.”
Wow, a trick of the trade. How many more we would learn by hanging out with the other carnies? (We never did.)
After we set up the booth and put out all the glasses, Rick and I went back home to tell our moms that we had jobs at the carnival. My mom wasn’t too keen on it and for a moment I feared that Rick and I wouldn’t be allowed to work. I pleaded with my mom until she finally acquiesced. I could imagine Rick going through the same pleading with his mom.
Back at the carnival, Rick and I were ready to try out the “a nickel to play, a nickel to win” spiel and have some fun. And it was a lot of fun working at the carnival that ran from Thursday night to late Sunday afternoon. Some of our friends stopped by and I let Linda Ferenchek win a few dishes (even though her nickels slipped out). I had crush on her the year before and still liked her. Maybe I was hoping for some insurance in case things didn’t work out with Janie Arkins.
Nonetheless, Rick and I were definitely making an impression and scoring big with our friends and the ladies. Even my kid brother, who had previously, until the carnival had come to town, hated my guts, started to look up to me.
The last night, some guy nearly wiped us out. For one thing, he knew all about the shiny nickels and had enough to play all night. And that’s pretty much what he did. He couldn’t lose. Every nickel he tossed landed inside the schooners, dishes, and bowls. He was on a winning streak and was on his way to winning practically everything had it not been for his girlfriend getting bored and wanting some other kind of action.
Sunday was the last day for the carnival and it closed early. After we had put everything away and taken down the booth, the “Octopus” operator gave us a very long ride on it. Usually a ride lasts just a few minutes, but he let it go for almost twenty minutes. I thought I was going to sick on all those corn dogs I had eaten earlier in the day.
When it came time to get paid, the carny said that he would pay us in the morning when the banks opened. “I will have to write you a check but I can’t until the banks open in the morning,” he said.
And we believed him.
The next day, when Rick and I rode our bikes back to the park, you can imagine our surprise when the rest of the carnival had packed up and left. When Rick told his mom that we had not been paid, she freaked and called the police. A state trooper was radioed and the convoy was stopped a few miles outside of town. After a quick search of all the carnies, the ones Rick and I had worked for were located and, from what he heard later, “were told to pay up or else.”
At this point I wasn’t even worried about the money but worried that I would end up on some carnival blacklist and who knows, maybe at some point in the future when I visited a carnival I might have some problems. We got the money, which wasn’t very much considering what everyone had to do to get it for us. We also got the “I told you so” lecture from both of our mothers.
None of this would have been so bad if Janie Arkins had come to the carnival. She never did show up on any of the nights that Rick and I worked and I would not see her the rest of that summer.