Frothy Mocha and the Fork of Shame

Well I’ll introduce myself first.  I’m Frothy Mocha and I was The Fork.

This basically means I was the one with the promo job spending several sweaty hours in a long plywood tube with armholes, a breathing window and comedy feet.  I did it, of course, for the reason any of us would do it.  For the craic? Possibly. For the artistic merit? Possibly not. For the money…oh yes.

Those of you out there who have had similar jobs will understand that it was worth it for the limitless possibilities to freak people out.  And to be honest, I thoroughly enjoyed myself after the initial twenty minutes of inhaling all the previous incumbents B.O and thinking..."I’m walking through a crowd of suited professionals dressed as a fork. I am dying of shame. If I don’t hunch my shoulders like Quasimodo I can neither see nor breathe.”

However, I am a professional.  And Fork-costume or not, I will suck it up and get on with it. This is what you do to make ends meet in a career that generally has a problem with letting you work normal hours.

I did, however, have several interesting conversations through the course of the day. One woman wanted to know all about me, where I came from, what I wanted to be when I became a full cutlery set. 

Another man had a major problem with the brand that I was promoting. I listened patiently to his issues and nodded (which via the plywood tube involved the Fork’s entire brightly coloured body nodding sagely at him). In the end I directed him to the brand employees who knew what the hell he was talking about and I apologised, uttering the immortal words...”I’m sorry I can’t help you more sir, I’m just an actor dressed as a fork.”


Frothy Mocha x