I
went into this contest not expecting anything.
In fact, at the time I decided to compete not because I was looking to
win, but because I have been kicking my own ass for my NPC fitness contest – which
is Saturday by the way – and I look damn good.
I also spent a lot of money on a most adorable bikini that I then spent
more money on by painstakingly gluing Swarovski crystals to. I figured why not show off my hard work and
my most adorable bikini? So I signed up
and expected nothing.
On
the day of the contest I came in feeling like a million dollars. The night before a friend had given me a
gorgeous set of extensions (meant to give me in edge afore mentioned NPC
contest this weekend) that took me from a short A-line to long curls. I also had my amazing gold bikini all ready
to go. Plus I did a really good job on
my eye makeup. Basically you can wrap
all that up in a neat little bow called “I was feeling hot.”
So
I went up on stage and strutted my stuff.
Uniform, dress, bikini – I rocked them all. I waved.
I blew kisses. I popped my hip. I disgusted myself with how bubbly I became
with so little effort. Essentially, I
was a nearly perfect example of a Hooters Girl.
 |
| First runner up, second runner up, winner |
When
it finally came town to announce the winner, I still expected nothing. Sure, it would be nice to win and spend nine
glorious days in Miami, but I certainly wasn’t going to be upset if that didn’t
happen. So when the crowning began and I
suddenly found myself with a pink runner-up sash around my neck I was totally
content. I got second and that, my
friends, was awesome.
Then
they announced the winner. And that
surprised everyone. A wonderful girl who
has been with Hooters Missoula since we opened, was also surprised to win. It wasn’t that she shouldn’t have, it was that
this girl was pregnant. Not very
pregnant, but pregnant none the less.
In
that moment, she looked at me and I looked at her and had the sudden
realization that I very well could be going to Miami to represent our
store. And the next day that is exactly
what I was told. Well sort of anyway.
My
owner called me the next day to say that though I had placed second, the odds
were very good that I would be the one going.
In fact my odds were so good that he said, “ok, you’re going.” While there was obviously still I chance that
things would change, I was left to believe that through a crazy set of
circumstances I had found myself as Miss Hooters Missoula.
For
a week I wrapped my head around the idea that I would be going to Miami. I thought about all the things I would need
to prepare. I thought about what my
costume would be for the vendor show. I
thought about how small my “fit girl” boobs would look.
And
exactly a week later my owner called me again.
He told me that circumstances had changed and that the winner would
indeed be our representative. Now before you jump to horrid conclusions,
I’ll be the first to say that I think this girl is not the type that would ever do anything drastic for
a bikini contest. Of course rumors have
flown, but I don’t believe a one of them.
Initially
I was disappointed. In fact, I was
surprised by my disappointment. While
I’d prepared myself for not going, I’d also become excited for the idea that I
very well might; I had been looking forward to it without even really realizing
it. I couldn’t help but be a little
bummed.
So
all this is why I didn’t go into detail about the contest. To be honest, I was waiting until I could
tell you that I was going to Miami. The
story wouldn’t have been complete without that bit of information. Instead, I come to you finishing second and
not being upset about it.
I
love my Hooters family and couldn’t be happier for the dear friend who will be
representing us in Miami; I know she’ll do a good job. Would I have liked to go? Sure, but it certainly wasn’t my desire or my
expectation. My desire was only to be
confident and proud of the hard work I’ve put in changing my body
composition. My desire was to represent
myself as the strong, fit, happy woman that I am. And that I certainly accomplished.
