Every year my elementary school would have a big carnival. It was great, I loved it. It was a small school and thus a pretty small carnival, but then again, it had everything it needed to have: Moonwalk, dunk tank, karaoke, overpriced carnival food and 8 or 9 games of chance to win some crappy prizes.
We didn’t have a lot of money for tickets, and they always seemed to go fast. My main goal at the carnival was to maximize my profit: what was the most economically advantageous way to spend my tickets? For example, buying a personal pan pizza from the Pizza Hut truck cost like 7,000,000 tickets. So, even though I desperately wanted a personal pan pizza, I knew my mom wasn’t going to let me starve so it wasn’t really worth using up every single ticket to my name. The Moonwalk was like 5 tickets for 10 milliseconds or something. This was somewhat worthwhile, because a Moonwalk is awesome, but you still didn’t have anything to show for it when your 10 milliseconds were done (other than a stitch in your side, because bouncing in a Moonwalk is hard work!)
Then I discovered the cake walk.
For some reason on this particular year, the cake walk just wasn’t that popular. I don’t know if people didn’t know it was there, or if it just wasn’t considered cool to devour an entire cake all by yourself, or what. In any case, I had that baby to myself. For the low price of one ticket, you were entered into the cake walk. Numbers would be drawn until a winner was chosen, so if nobody was on the number, they’d pick again. In other words, if you are the ONLY PERSON DOING THE CAKE WALK, you were guaranteed a cake.
Like taking candy from a baby.
Even if there were 2 or 3 or even 4 people participating, your odds of winning an ENTIRE CAKE are pretty good. So while my friends were bouncing their heads off in the Moonwalk, or winning tootsie rolls on the spinning wheel of chance, I spent every single last one of my tickets on the cake walk and took home in the neighborhood of 5 cakes.
Carnival – 0, Shane – 1