Reading this thread made me curious as to whether Tampa has specific laws about busking, as opposed to street vending per se. I googled about and wasn't able to find anything definitive (which makes me think they don't have such laws), but I did find a bit of testimony from a busker that gives some insight about both sides of this issue:shock::
Tampa, though, was a different animal. Not a cool vibe there really, at least, for busking. There's a little historic strip down there called Ybor City, which, as the Rasta vendor told me, was at one time a good place for street music, but no longer. Ybor City is basically a party block on the weekend, the street gets shut down, and it basically turns into a giant contained modern bacchanalian, complete with its very own police branch. Apparently, one doesn't need to be possessed of a high degree of discernment to become an Ybor City police officer, and they hounded me, shut me down several times, referred to me as a panhandler, sometimes threatened to arrest me, and were basically like automaton goons ruining what would otherwise have been a fat place to busk! I think it was on my fourth or fifth Ybor City "Dodge the Cops" busking adventure, that I finally gave up the city and largely declared Tampa a Vortex of Evil. For the first few outings, and after my first shutdown, I adopted the strategy of setting up not on the main drag (and be instantly spotted by the Trolls), but to set up a street or two back, which although not as awash in traffic was still quite busy, and quieter. For some reason, the Trolls weren't programmed to accost buskers as quickly on the nearest two parallel streets, and I could work a random amount of time before the next Troll encounter. When I did pick up a Troll, I would simply scout out another spot. During this time, I picked up a crackhead sidekick from the charming surounding area, who was rather magnetically drawn to the fish in my guitar case - someone had dropped me a $10 for my best Garfunkel imitation. I think the crackhead was Bill. Bill explained to me how, if we were to go into business together, how quickly I could multiply that $10 bill, by which time had spontaneously leapt into my pocket with such speed and dexterity as to make any of the minstrels of old proud, I hope. I decided to ditch Bill and set up elsewhere, as he was starting to scare off the rich people, and that evening ended when I hastily had to pick up my guitar case and flee - not from the Trolls, but from a slowly approaching flood of urine which one of the drunken throng had depositied on the other side of the bench upon which I sat.
But alas, the showdown. Eventually I got frustrated from having to dodge around in the back streets evading crackheads and urinating college students. I decided to make my stand, on the main drag. I had a folding stool, acoustic guitar, and a backpack full of goodies - a mini amp and crybaby. An empty storefront was calling out to me, a recessed alcove right on the street, it was perfect. I started to play, and that guitar case rapidly transformed into a treasure box, like $30 in just an hour or two, it was rockin'. I took a quick break to drink some water out of my backpack and get out the mini and crybaby, and I'm telling you, Ybor City would have never been the same....but even as I uncoiled the cord, a pack of five Trolls were upon me, all in nice new uniforms and not a brain among them. The Lead Troll told me I'd be arrested if found panhandling out here again, and it was one of those bogus moments when you feel like you've been kicked in the stomach, wandering back to my truck and the drunken students and the indifference, I'm certain Ybor City is one of the Layers of the Abyss and recommend y'all steer clear of that hellhole.