There was the grandfather, the grandmother, three sons and three wives and there were some grandchildren, maybe four, including an infant, occupying three of the dozens of caravan trailers that were parked out in the back-lot of the carnival that I happened upon one day while visiting in PA (Pennsylvania). I was sent to the off-limits spot after in-canting a carny code word to a carnival game agent that was "working a booth" out on the midway.
I was introduced to the families patriarch but only after the woman that had answered the door to the trailer had closed it and then re-opened it again, before presenting him. I had no idea that I would be traveling with honest to god, real-live Romanian Gypsies when I first inquired to the fellow about a job. Prior to this, I had worked in a carnival but only as a "ride-jock" but here, I was trying to move-up the rungs and become a carnival game agent instead.
The gypsies hired me and my girlfriend on the spot and we returned that night with all of our belongings. We had been living in a tiny room over an "all-night" diner that we were both working the graveyard shift at so the move wasn't difficult. We had left "the road" thinking to settle down for awhile but only lasted living "the suckers life" for about a month before we were back out on "a (carnival) lot" again. But this time was different because now I had graduated from "the back" of the lot to "the front". Now, I was about to learn (from the pros & the cons) how to really "take the people" that come to a carnival, for a ride!
The tutored coarse lasted for about a year and a half and ended when I had a falling-out with my mentors and moved on. However much less we all were for the loss, I left with the taboo talent that the gypsy family had laid on me.