Fourth Weekend!

Working four nights in a row without having your costume washed? Not
pleasant. Not for you or anyone else within a 20 foot radius of you for
that matter.

Good thing I called out for two of the nights. I guess I had to learn that
life gets in the way of scaring from time to time.

Unfortunately, I also had to learn to share this weekend.

You see, there are several noisemakers to choose from to use in our zone. I always called dibs on this one that cranks. Think human bones on a cheese grater.

Anyway, this other kid discovered it when I was busy banging mallets on barrels.
But, lets just say that he had to learn to share as well.

When I wasn't using the crank, I learned to use a new toy. It is a large,
wooden slap stick that sounds like a whip when used properly. I
eventually got the hang of it, but not before I ended up hitting myself
a half a dozen times. The slap stick felt as though it would fall
apart at any moment. All I could think was that the prop was going to
break and wood would fly apart and hit a guest in the face. So I slapped harder.


"You're just evil with that thing," a zone manager told me.
Mother would be proud.

The first night I worked, I did an hour and a half shift. Which,
I'm sure sounds like a glorious thing to those who have never worked at Howl-O-Scream. But, believe me, it is not.

While working at HOS, employees get breaks every half hour for a
half hour. There is also and hour break thrown in there for lunch. So
basically, we work half the time. The best part is that we only get
our pay deducted for one of the breaks.

Well that night, I covered this girl's shift and thought I was going to die from the heat.

But I have concluded that the real reason Busch Gardens gives its HOS employees so many breaks is because employees need time for their frustrations with guests to subside.

Highlights of the weekend:

Worst: I scared a guy and he nearly punched me in the face. I ducked out of the way right in time.

Funniest: A coworker and I accidentally scared each other.

Best: I was doing my infamous "crazy dance" when I heard a
girl coming up behind me say, "This girl is crazy. She doesn't know
what she's doing." I took it as my cue to scare. She ran the other way
yelling, "Yes she does!"

Weirdest: Bird man asking me if he looks better with his regular nose or beak.

Third Weekend!

"You're a creepy little shit!" a huge guy dressed as a bloodied half
wolf said. I smiled. "Good to know I'm doing my job well," I replied to
my co-worker on our break.

You see, he was speaking of this particular technique I like to use. Sometimes some
smart ass in the crowd will say something like "oh baby" to
try and freak me out. HA. Silly, silly boys and girls. When this
happens, I usually stop whatever it is I'm doing and proceed to follow
you. I don't just walk behind you. I crouch down as if I'm ready to
pounce. Sometimes I skip. Sometimes I run. I make plenty of noise just
to make sure you know I'm there. And every time you turn around, I
smile the creepiest smile that gets bigger and creepier every time you
look.

Bottom line: you'll regret trying to scare me.

This weekend, I have perfected my niche. My favorite thing to do is
dance. Our zone has drums beating constantly in the background. So I
dance. Not just a regular dance. The kind of dance that leads people to
call me "retarded" and "crazy." After I distract them with that, then
BAM. I scare.

Highlights of the weekend:

Worst: The usual- getting called every profanity in the book, being
spit on, grabbed by drunk guys, tickled(?) by a drunk guy and all in
all having my patience tested beyond belief

Funniest:



Best: Having a dance-off with a fellow urchin. We both scared the crap out of a huge
group of people

Weirdest: When I was doing my dance, a guy yelled "It's her sex dance!"
Another guy sang, yes sang the word, "Masturbation" and did a robot
dance. I guess that's how he masturbates.

Second Weekend!

Rain. Cold rain.

We waited for it to stop.

Our makeup dripped down our faces. Our bodies shook from cold. Our feet squished in wet shoes.

We scared for less than an hour that night.

The rest of our time was spent sitting in the break area eating candy.

At least we got paid.

Why My Job is Better than Yours: My 2006 Blog

So working at Howl-O-Scream has been the best job ever. EVER. I mean, when you audition for something that requires you to act like a zombie and turn into a werewolf, you know you're at the right place.

I'm working in the Third-Dementia. Now, a lot of people don't like this house, because it's not necessarily "scary." However, it is something different. Trippy music plays as you wear 3-D glasses and walk through the house full of crazy paintings. The house can best be described as more of an acid trip minus the acid. And at first, I have to admit I was upset that I wouldn't be dressing up as a creature of the dead or a psychotic dancer at Club Muse. But now I am very happy with being a polka-dotted ninja!



I work in the Spots Room, where I blend in with the walls and jump out and scare people. It's satisfying enough just listening to the screams, but I get paid too! I bang on the walls and shake this thing in people's ears. I get to freak people out. My dream job.

So far, there have been a mixture of good and bad experiences. But the good far outweigh the bad.
I was groped by two different girls. Yeah. They grabbed my boobs. On two seperate occasions. And one girl called me a nigger after I shoved her? yeah...........

One time this lady grabbed my arm and tried to pull me "away" with her. Guests always assume that I'm a guy. Another time, this girl bent over and asked me to spank her. HA. And an old guy tried poking my boob once. EEEW. But it's probably because the people who made the costume put a dot right on my boob. Why would they do that?? It's silly. Just because there are Polka-dots on my costume doesn't mean you can Poke a dot.
hardyharhar.

I've lost track of how many people I have made fall to the ground screaming, losing their glasses and gum.

One time this guy with a neck brace came through. I decided not to scare him. And some people come through with little kids. And babies!! Why on Earth would someone bring their baby through a haunted house?? Craziness.

I made a little boy cry.

I made a sixteen year old girl cry. "Please, NO!! I'm so scared!!! WAAAA!" Exactly what she said. She ran out crying histerically. I proceeded to laugh histerically. I'm a nice person, really.

I like to make big guys scream like little girls. Its quite gratifying when they jump two feet in the air then swear at me. I'm sorry you cant take it. Suckers!

It's annoying when people walk through and point and say "I see you!" because they usually don't even have the 3-D glasses on. If they are so brave, then why did they take the glasses off? Pansies. BTW, if you say you see me, I'm still going to scare you.

My co-workers are awesome. Period.

Howl-O-Scream Opening Weekend: SUCCESS!!

I spotted him. He walked with his chest stuck out, head held high. The girls he was with clung to him as he laughed at those who screamed. He sipped his beer as if nothing could faze him. His overbearing ego made me cringe.

Yes, he would be perfect; my next victim.

As I patiently waited in the eerie light, I planned the perfect scare and how I would do my worst to this poor sap. Scaring is, afterall, an art.

I jumped out with my noisemaker and cried a bloodcurdling scream. He jumped about 3 feet into the air, screamed like a little girl and spilled his beer all over himself. I turned around, shared a smug smirk with a fellow scarer who had witnessed it and reset for the next person who would be so unfortunate as to cross paths with me.

Oh, the sweet satisfaction.

It’s that time of year again, when the lovers of vampires, gore and horror movies get together for the best job-that’s-almost-not-even-a-job: Howl-O-Scream at Busch Gardens.

It’s my second year with the Scare Squad, and this year I’m working at one of the newest scare zones: Masters and Monsters. When I’m in costume, please address me as Ursula, the street urchin.

Masters and Monsters is set up outside for guests to walk through on the way to other attractions. Think "The Island of Dr. Moreau" meets "Mad Max." Monsters are loosed from their huge cages and fighting arenas by their masters, terrorizing all who dare to pass through.

Last weekend was opening weekend. All in all, the experience was horrifying. And I, of course, mean that in a good way.

I creep people out. I scare. I get eaten by monsters.
You know, same old same old.

The highlights of opening weekend:

Worst: Some drunk guy pushing me and my left index finger going numb

Funniest: Some drunk guy running up to me, yelling the word “boobie” and running away

Best: Making all those macho guys scream like little girls

Weirdest: A coworker dressed as a half bird half human, whose costume included a beak on his nose, telling me that he loves my scream and not to worry because he wouldn’t peck me; he then proceeded to laugh

Scaring on until next weekend…