My Fledgling Encounter with Superficiality

I arrived at the banquet hall on a Sunday afternoon because the letter I received told me to. It was for the Nationals Preliminary Pageant information session, and I figured I might as well be informed. Dressed in interview attire, I drove myself down to Santa Barbara and got to the presentation five minutes before it started.

As I sat there, slightly surprised so many other girls (and their parents) had shown up, I absentmindedly filled out my pageant application while eavesdropping on the conversations around me.

Let’s get this over with, whined the girl behind me, I’m hungry.

It’ll be over soon baby, said her mother, Where do you want to go after this?

The girl sighed, Ugh, I don’t know.

We could go to T.G.I. Friday’s, Applebee’s?

I read the first question on my application: What are your interests? Well, that’s quite a broad question to answer in three lines, so I jotted down horseback riding. I guessed that answer would probably sound better than strip teasing or petty thieving. But of course, I can only have so many interests.

I’m so proud of myself for even showing up for this. After all that tequila last night

Oh, you do like to have fun, don’t you? laughed her mom.

The next question: What do you hope to learn from this experience? I could only imagine what other people were writing for this one. I look forward to making new friends. So that was what I put.

What am I going to wear?

Maybe the little pink dress with your hair curled?

No. I don’t like that one.

You would look so cute if you cut your hair!

I hate short hair.

You look beautiful in everything. Did you see how that boy looked at you at Sephora?

Yeah, I know.

As I was finishing my last questionrevealing my innermost thoughts about my favorite TV showsa bubbly blonde woman approached the stage.

Good afternoon, everyone!

She waved like a mermaid on a float in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

You are all so beautiful! I want to congratulate you for taking this first step

Those of us who showed up last sat in the back rowsthe majority either texting on their blackberries or snipping split ends.

Now I know what you’re thinking Every pageant is like those shows you see on MTV, right? Wrong! Whatever image you got from those shows, just wipe them from your heads. These pageants are NOT like that.

For a while the woman kept talking and future Little Miss Toddlers kept squirming in their seats. Row by row, she sent us to the hall for interviews with our judging panel. Of the three judges, two were modeling scouts and one was a pageant director.

I think you’ll be surprised to know that looks have nothing to do with judging for this pageant.

The girl behind me grunted. Some of the others turned pale.

That’s right girls. It’s all about personality

My row was then called and I gathered my application for the interview. Seated at three tables in the hall were the judges and a long line of girls waited to speak with them. I took my place in the lineup behind two pre-teens who appeared to be twins.

I can’t wait to go to the beach after this, said one.

Oh, me too! said the other, What bikini should I wear? The orange or the blue one?

Hmm I don’t know. I’m wearing blue. Wear the blue one and we can be twins!

The line in front of me quickly shrunk before I was next to be interviewed. A spot opened up and I walked over to fill it. Like many human creatures have long done before me, I stretched out my hand and began to introduce myself.

That’s a nice handshake! said the woman. Looking about middle-age, she had that authentic kind of smile that doesn’t appear to take crap and isn’t likely to serve it.

Thanks! said I, I like a firm grip.

Sorry, what’s your name again?

I told her and she jotted it down. When speaking, she looked me in the eyes.

Why do you want to enter this competition?

Well, I’ve always done much of the same thing and I want to have some new experiences. I’ve always been a horseback rider, but I think it’s about time I break out of my comfort zone. When I told her that, I honestly think I meant it.

She nodded and asked me another question, On a scale from one to ten, what would you say is your confidence level?

It depends, but I’d say about an eight. I had to shrug and laugh a little at that one.

Looking at you, I think I’d agree.

I saw her write an 8 on her judge’s ballot before looking up again to say, Okay, I think that’s all I need to know. Thank you very much; you’re really a beautiful girl.

I thanked her and got up to return to the presentation.

Good luck! she hollered as another girl took my emptied seat.

It certainly is a nice thing to be judged by your personality.