‘No Bobos’ : You Don’t Make Many Friends Tossing Zingers at the County Fair for a Living

The sign over the booth at the Orange County Fair ungrammatically states that “all comments by Bobo is for your entertainment only.”

But James Hitt of Torrance didn’t see it that way.

“Look at this guy,” shouted Bobo from the security of his steel-mesh cage. “He must live in a beer can. He looks like a flat tire with legs.” Then Bobo clucked a particularly grating laugh. “I’ll bet when your girl takes you to a restaurant they make her tie you outside. Ha, ha, ha, ha. Don’t look around, buddy, I’m talkin’ to you. “

The small crowd standing in front of the carnival booth heard all of it over the public-address speakers. There was only one thing a self-respecting man could do.

Hitt walked up, put down his dollar, and picked up the three baseballs. Eighteen feet away in the net enclosure was a 4-inch metal disk. If struck by a baseball, the disk would release the bench on which Bobo sat, dropping Bobo into a tank of water and teaching him a thing or two.

Hitt wound up and let fly a fastball that missed. “Hard work for an old man. Ha, ha, ha, ha. What a wimp.”

Hitt threw again--harder but no closer. And again. Another miss. “Hey, try throwing it as hard as she does,” shouted Bobo, pointing at a small girl about to start her throws.

Hitt walked away muttering, returned for three more throws, ended them with a loud expletive, walked away, returned for three more throws, then finally left. He was $3 poorer and Bobo was no wetter.

So it went Sunday at the Orange County Fair as it has for generations of American carnival-goers. Teach that loudmouth a lesson, but pay him first.

This particular loudmouth was Max Greer from Houston, a rookie Bobo with only a week on the job--but a natural talent.

“I found him in a bar,” said Forrest Green (“really, that’s my name”) of Dallas, the head Bobo and operator of the Dunk Bobo booth that he says travels 100,000 miles a year on the carnival circuit.

“He was doing it for free. He was in one of those country-western bars where you can get the (bleep) kicked out of you real easy, and he was singling out every guy who came in the door. So I told him, ‘How’d you like to make $50 a day and all the corn dogs you can eat?’ ”

Greer was taking the afternoon duty Sunday, which is toned down a little because of the children present. Still, security was tight. Greer and Green work with clown makeup on, “but it’s not that we’re trying to be clowns. It’s a mask so they don’t recognize you later,” Green said. Even their van has the logo of a dummy company painted on it “so they don’t recognize us driving away.”

Greer was locked into his cage with a van backed against the door. He couldn’t get out, but they could get in. And Green, who is 5-foot-1, was carrying his stun gun. At nights, when the men in the crowd have had more beer, “well, just say I’m armed,” Green said.

The secret to attracting customers, Green said, is to get the men steamed enough to want to punch you, but not enraged enough to want to break into the cage. You get about three seconds to size up the men walking by, then you let fly, Green said.

John Banuelos of Baldwin Park meandered by with his wife, and Greer gaffed him with one of Bobo’s golden oldies: “Hey, is that your husband, or are you walking the dog?” After a few of Bobo’s low-power racial taunts, Banuelos plopped down $2 and blistered the backstop with six throws, all misses.

‘Men Are So Insecure’

“No, I didn’t get him,” he said, “and my wife’s got the money, or I’d stay here until I did get him.”

“Men are so insecure,” Green said. “Women are real people, but men have got this ego problem. I do insult the women, but you’re careful about it, because they take it personal. They go and complain about it. Too many complaints, and I can’t come back next year. And this isn’t just a job, it’s my living. It’s my life style.

“It’s all about male ego. I tell them, ‘You’ll never be half the man your mother was,’ and they go wild. Some men are immune to this, but they’re taking the same pills Michael Jackson takes.”

“So they give us money, and we don’t even give away prizes. Well, we do, actually. We just got those stuffed toys in. You get one if you dunk Bobo three consecutive times. It’s never been done, but it’s conceivable.”

Bobo has been dunked many times but no one has ever gotten his hands on Bobo, Green said, although he has heard of Bobo tanks in the East being tipped over by enraged clients. “I’m a West Coast Bobo,” Green said. “Back East, they’re a little more rowdy.”

And with the interview over and Green not due back in the tank until 4, he walked away to the sounds of profit--the thump of misdirected baseballs against canvas and the chatter of the public address speakers:

“(Thump) What a lumpo. (Thump) When you go to the beach, they must keep trying to roll you back in the water. (Thump) Don’t fall down; you’ll start an earthquake.

“Is that how you got that bald spot, scratching it with that finger?”