studentsineurope

Strangely Entertaining: The Dancing Mickey Scam

Dancing Minnie

Those of you that have been to Rome are familiar with the infamous dancing Mickeys. Those who have yet to go to Rome, beware of the dancing Mickeys. Although they come in many forms: Disney characters (plenty of Minnies and Donalds to be had), bugs, The Simpsons, and even Picachus, the Mickey is the most common figure I’ve seen.

A toy that can be found near most popular attractions in Rome, these paper cartoons bounce magically to the tunes blaring from a boom box. An obvious scam, there is still something very alluring about these dancing mice, as hoards of people will stare at them for hours, trying to figure out the mystery behind how they work.

On a recent trip to Rome with 2 of my friends, we found those hypnotizing dancing toys greeting us immediately after a memorable tour of the Forum. Impossible to ignore, I’m not even sure that the Popemobile passing by could have thwarted our attention from those miraculous mice.

Knowing it was a trick, we still felt compelled to get to the bottom of this situation. “How do they work?” I asked the man dishing out the plastic packages of Mickeys faster than a card dealer in Vegas. Obviously, it was some sort of tourist trap, but we were stifled. “There is a string holding them up”, said my friend, just before the vendor gently glided his hand over the top to show there was no string attached. Then he did the impossible. Taking a fresh Mickey out of the plastic, he dropped it in the chorus line, and low and behold, it started right in with the others. Stumped, our apprehensions began to slowly melt away, as we soon found ourselves accepting that these cartoon cutouts were somehow, inexplicably, gyrating to the music from the stereo.

Three Mickeys and 10 euros later, with a fervent desire to see them dance, we turned up our iPods up as loud as possible.

Nothing.

Chalking it up to the fact that our little ear buds weren’t loud enough, we tried out the speakers on our laptops once back at the hotel, desperately hoping that it would do the trick.

Zilch.

In a last-ditch effort, once at home each of us tested them separately on a legitimate, bass thumping stereo. The ultimate test.

Nada.

That’s when the flurry of feelings began to set in: anger, confusion, disbelief, but mostly humiliation. We knew we had been had, we just couldn’t figure out how, and it was killing us.

Recently however, I stumbled across how they actually work. Although I had contemplated divulging that information, I felt it would be unfair to those that have not been to Rome, as they are an integral part of the “Rome experience”. I mean, you wouldn’t tell your friends that are going to San Francisco where exactly “Bushman” is hiding out, now would you? It’s just something each person has got to experience for themselves. So, for those of you who have already experienced the joy and frustration of these seeing these rhythmic rats, and would like to know the secret, go here. For everyone else, see them in action here.