Fantasy Job #2: Demolition Derby Announcer

Beset by unemployment and cursed with an over active imagination, I have started fantasizing about dream jobs.

Fantasy Job #2: Demolition Derby Announcer

If you have ever been to a demolition derby in the South, you know what I am talking about. Should you have failed to attend such a spectacle, add it to the list of things you must see before you die. Trust me; it's a shit-ton better than Paris.

For those uncultured in the sport, here is a quick introduction. Take a bunch of old cars on the brink of death. Then run them into each other. The winner is the last car able to move around of its own power.

The announcer has a real thick Southern/Hick (aka Redneck Gibberish) accent. An attribute I have covered. Personally, I think the secret to good public announcing work is hard liquor. As the first round of cars start their engines, I'd be on shot three. It would be a good night in the booth if I passed out just as the champion is crowned.

The personal lives of the competitors (including recent divorce) is something I've actually heard an announcer discuss. "Looks like Jimmy Douglas throwed an axle. Gotta be disappointin' fo' Jimmy. I knowed he was hoping for a good run today, he's a try'n to cheer hisself up after his ole lady stepped out last month."

Another sweet announcer move is giving instructions to the fire crew. Occasionally an old car catches a flame. Local volunteer fire departments are there to handle it. Oh! But, some announcers really get into it. This is an actual announcement I once heard. "Ays a far! Ays a far! Mon far boys, git in nar! Git Grigg out dar." Allow me to translate: "There is a fire! There is a fire! Come on, firemen, get in there. Get Gregg out of there." Ays, nar and dar are all Redneck Gibberish conjugations of there.

Perhaps my favorite job perk is the view of redneck tang. Country girls like to dress to the nines for any sport involving internal combustion engines. There is always one ole girl dressed like this: blue jeans (two sizes too small,) a black pair of fuck me pumps and a NASCAR t-shirt. The t-shirt is also way too small. Her cleavage is on display, for all to enjoy. She is constantly sucking on a cigarette.

Getting liquored up, talking Redneck Gibberish about cars mashing in the mud and scoping redneck tang. Try finding that one in Career Builder.

Dirty Ert