In line with the usual schedule, I headed to the Ferry Building on Tuesday morning. Everything was in line for a perfect day of playing: it was sunny out, I got the good spot in the crosswalk, it had just stopped raining so folks were out, and nothing was radically different in the appearance of my setup or the quality of my playing. But for whatever reason, I did very poorly on Tuesday. I didn't bother counting but I watched each donation come in and the were very few and very far between.
The only thing setting this Tuesday apart from others was the presence of the Girl Scouts. Soon after I set up, two girl scouts, a mother, and a wagon full of cookies showed up. I didn't think it would affect business; if anything I thought it would help since each cookie box is $4. Thus patrons present a $5 bill, get a single in change, and immediately turn around and drop it in my box. I didn't see them as competition really, since we had much different wares. Anyway I don't think it was the Scouts' fault, since they weren't doing much business ever. After I threw in the towel I decided that I might as well spend my meager earnings on some Samoas.
One strange thing did happen: a drummer came with all his equipment and set up quite near me. In this space is it obvious that two musicians can't both play, and it perplexed me that he didn't come talk to me before setting up, which took him a very long time. This concerned me, because what if he refused to listen to reason and just played over me? I imagined the conversation we would have when he started playing. I feared that it would go something like this:
Sophie: Hi! I'm playing here at the moment.
Andrew: Well I'm going to play too, dollface.
Sophie: I'm afraid you're too close to me, so that won't work.
Andrew: And what are you going to do about it?
Sophie: Uhh...
This is where I was stumped. He had no legal obligation to leave me alone. The beauty of this crosswalk area is that there are no permit laws, leaving it a free for all. Every musician for zirself. The only possible comeback I could think of was a complex plan involving a sign that I would magically write out informing passersby of the difficulty I was having playing over the drummer who refused to wait his turn. So there.
Finally he did start playing, and as I had rehearsed I politely asked a Girl Scout to watch my stuff while I went to talk to him. This was my first street musician confrontation, and I was nervous. The actual conversation went something like this:
Sophie: Huhh [ahem] hi. [Over drums] HI.
Andrew: Oh hello!
Sophie: So I'm uh kind of playing right now.
A: Yeah, well it takes me forever to set up all this stuff, since you have an accordion I thought you could just move somewhere else. I can't move now that I'm set up.
S: Well that's why I expected you would come talk to me before setting up. I'll be here for at least another hour.
A: Well I can sit tight for another couple of minutes, but that's it. You might want to move since I'll drown you out.
S: Sorry, you really have to get here early if you want to get this spot.
A [Total change in attitude]: Oh, do you always play here on Tuesdays?
S: Yes I do!
A: Okay, this is my first time trying this spot, now that I know it's yours I'll stay away!
S: Oh you don't have to do that! If you get here before me sometime it's all yours!
A: Oh, no, I don't want to steal your territory! I'm Andrew.
S: Nice to meet you, Andrew, I'm Sophie. I'll pack it up a little early today.
A: Okay, thanks! I'll sit tight for a bit.
Well done, Andrew. You started out with pure gypsy trickery, then when that didn't work nicely segued into the "we're all in this together" Street Musician Negotiation approach. I packed up soon after that because it truly was a waste of time, and it's not like Andrew was going to steal my patrons. He was off the beaten path of the crosswalk-users, and thus someone would have had to really really dig his act to go over and donate. I should have just caught him as he was setting up to tell him that folks weren't biting.
I did have a photojournalism student hanging around who took some cool photos. I'm waiting for them to show up on FB, then I'll post them here. All in all, this was a discouraging day. Working for tips in this fashion is annoying: as a waitress on a slow day you make less money but you work less; you avoid rushes and stress and bodily exertion. As a street musician on a slow day you work just as hard but don't make money. I accept making less money on days when I take lots of breaks or don't play for very long, but it's frustrating when I play hard for a long period of time and don't make money. I might take a break from the Ferry Building.
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