Inspiration and Pageant Girls

If you’ve been paying attention, Miami happened.   If you’ve been paying really good attention you might recall that Miami happening made me nervous.  It wasn’t the “job” of it that scared me, but rather the idea of living up to 100 of the most beautiful women in the world.  Trust me, that is some scary, intimidating shit.  Luckily I quickly realized that – besides my rather small, totally real chest – I actually fit in pretty well body-wise.  In fact, I’d go so far as to say I fit into that group of thin girls that actually look active.  Trust me, there is a difference between “I’m nineteen and I’m just skinny” and “I work out daily and eat rabbit food and protein.”  Mostly this difference is seen on the backside.  And let me tell you, my butt is tight.

That part felt good.  I’d been working really hard and had achieved a body I was proud of; feeling like I fit in was reaffirming.  But the body was only the beginning.  I also feared cattiness.  Put 100 gorgeous women together all vying for the same prestigious crown and drama seems inevitable.  I was ready for bitches.

And then I didn’t meet any.  Surprisingly, every girl I met seemed legitimately nice (there was of course one exception).  It was refreshing to meet woman that were not only beautiful, but genuine as well.  There are enough pretty bitches in the world.  It was nice to see 99 women who had the pretty part down but left the bitch at home.

The gorgeous Crystal Cunningham.

Then I got to meet girls like Crystal Cunningham.  I met Crystal from Nashville on my first morning at the pageant.  Sitting in the makeup room unsure who I should talk to first and even more unsure how to approach the women getting primped around me, Crystal was the first person I got up the nerve to talk to.

“So how are you feeling about the contest?” I asked after introducing myself and explaining what I was doing.

“Honestly for me it’s the biggest blessing in the world.”

I was taken back by this answer.  I had expected something typical.  Something about nerves or confidence or excitement.  Crystal felt blessed.

And then Crystal’s story came pouring out.  The daughter of a blonde-haired, blue-eyed preacher and a first generation Korean, Crystal had been in an terrible car accident in 2007.  Crystal, a dedicated dancer, had been traveling a road she thought she knew well.  She thought nothing of looking away for a moment to grab something.  And that’s about all she clearly remembers.  Her car left the road and she ended up slamming into a tree.

There was a time immediately following the accident when Crystal was nearly pronounced dead.  While that’s staggering, Crystal also faced the probability of losing her foot – and her ability to dance as well as walk.  As she was telling me this, I noted the long scar on her ankle.  I had thought it a dancer’s surgery, but this was so much more.  Doctors were ready to amputate; yet here was Crystal before me.  Three short years later Crystal was not only walking, she was a Miss Hooters International contestant and a dancer for the Nashville Predators.  Here was a woman that defined beating the odds.

The last thing I expected when I landed in Miami was to be inspired.  But Crystal did that.  It wasn’t just her story, but her appreciation for life that touched me.  Crystal came from rock bottom and amazingly seemed to appreciate every moment of it.  To say it was uplifting would be a vast understatement.

By the end of the week, Crystal had made her way to the Top Ten of the Miss Hooters International Pageant.  I cheered loudly as she came forward from the crowd because I knew how much she probably appreciated that moment purely for the fact that she got to experience it.  She deserved to be there as much for her perseverance as for her remarkable beauty.

And that’s yet another thing I love about Hooters.  Hooters Girls are hardly ever what they seem – a fact that Crystal proves impeccably.  What is that?  7,893,456 reasons why I love Hooters?

Miami in Pictures

Because I'm reminiscing, a few pictures from my adventure in Miami.

 The absolutely ugly view from my balcony.  Of course by ugly I mean gorgeous.

The other view from my balcony.  It's obvious I must be big time because I was given double the views. Regular people only get one.

 Ladies on a boat.  They are in bikinis in case you didn't notice.

This is where people swim.  And drink overpriced booze.  On that note, I miss Miami Vice - the drink, not the show.

Downtown Miami at night.  I thought the clouds were beautimus.

Please note the large hotel behind the butt on the left.

This is a kitty contemplating life on the boardwalk.

Being a huge costume loser, this was my favorite part of the contest.  Please note Lindsey Way, Miss Hooters International 2011, is on the right.

More bikinis.  It was a general theme of the week.

Winning is fun.

P.S. If you have a confetti cannon I'm going to need to borrow it for life.

Back To Hooting

After nine fabulous days in Miami I have returned to my life as a Hooters Girl.  I've had five shifts since I returned late Monday night.  Add my work schedule to a summer class and a new apartment that still needs organizing and the beaches of Miami seem much more than a week behind me.  That seems like another life.

And really it is, I've been to the other side of Hooters and I want in.  While I love my orange shorts - while hating the nylons - I enjoyed the business end of things as I experienced it in Miami.  Obviously being in Miami didn't hurt, but it felt good to play such an integral role in pageant week.  It's not that being a Hooters Girl isn't important, it's that spreading what a Hooters Girl is so widely feels really important.  After all, exposing the true nature of Hooters Girls was the whole point of this blog in the first place; being at the pageant allowed me to do that on a much larger scale.  And that I loved.

I love my job and I love sharing it on this blog.  I'm glad that Hooters gave me the opportunity to share with an even larger audience.  And maybe one day I can do that full-time.  But for now I'll happily don my shorts and continue to share my experiences here.

Maybe one day you can all say, "I read her when..."

The Death of My Favorite Boots

This is mine and it means I'm important.

Tonight is the Hooters vendor show as well as the Hooters Pageant Preview.  From my understanding it's really a big drunkfest that disguises itself as work.  These are exactly the sort of work functions I totally endorse.  All jokes aside, the vendor show is a chance for anyone who sells shit to Hooters franchises and people who want to sell shit to Hooters franchises to hawk their wares.  I get to spend this time hanging at the Hooters Magazine booth were it's my job to look pretty and talk about being a writing Hooters Girl.  I will also spend part of the vendor show wandering around getting free things.  I like free things, even if they pertain to chicken.  You get extra points at the alcohol booths.

The Pageant Preview takes place after the vendor show and is everyone's first on stage look at the contestants.  The cool part is that the contestants aren't just in bikinis or cocktail dresses, they're all in costumes that reflect their hometown Hooters.  As a person that LOVES costumes I am really excited about this.  I can't wait to see all the costumes (and of course Tweet every one of them).

Of course since I do love costumes - and have an affinity for making them - our contestant asked for my help with her outfit.  I was glad to help and went to work making a rather cute fly fishing costume.  Even on the short notice she gave me, I think I came up with something pretty awesome.  I'm just good like that.

As part of her costume, I loaned her my very favorite Jessica Simpson boots that I adore above my entire boot wardrobe.  Having planned on wearing waders which were ruined by her poor decision to spray paint them orange, I gladly let her borrow my boots.  They had a sort of wader appearance with a nice two-tone brown suede.  It was a great second option.

Then she dropped the bomb.  During her flight her hairspray had exploded.  My boots were the only major casualty.  My $160 Jessica Simpson's are utterly ruined and I am totally devastated.  Of course she offered to replace them, but what sort of person would I be if I made her give me the money for something that was so clearly an accident?  I told her not to worry about it, but it still totally sucks.

Rest in peace, dear boots.  You lived a happy, albeit short life.

Swag

When you're one of the 100 lucky ladies who are selected to compete in the Miss Hooters International Pageant you get to live a pretty fabulous life for a week.  You get made up all pretty and have photo shoots.  You attend parties.  Your sign autographs.  Basically you get to be a minor celebrity for a week.  And of course you get to do all of it in sunny Miami.  It's a really hard life.

In addition to all of that, you also get a swag back full of Hooters goodness.  I wish more than anything that I could have one of those swag bags.  It's full of awesome Hooters clothes that I would give anything to get my hands on.  You get a cute little wardrobe as well as two new bikinis and a brand spanking new uniform - INCLUDING shoes.  If you are reading this and you are a Hooters girl you know how totally amazing that is.  And it's all gloriously free.

But what I might love even more than the swag bag is the fact that it comes with a key.  Yes, there is a correct way to use the things you're given during the week of the pageant and they want to make sure you get it right.  So naturally they not only line out what you'll be wearing and when, they give you pictures so you don't mess it up.  Even if you're mostly illiterate.  I think it's totally glorious.

Observe.

There it is, the contestants' daily wardrobe perfectly outlined with both pictures and descriptions.  If you mess it up with that thing you probably need to reevaluate your life.  The whole thing just screams Hooters and I totally adore it.  Today's white skirt day, ladies, don't effing it up.

Twitter Tweeter and Other Fabulosity

So exactly what have I been doing while in Miami?  Mostly I’ve been filling my phone with countless pictures of scantly clad, buxom Hooter Girls.  Yes, that’s really what I’ve been doing.  To be more specific and less creepalious, being named official Twitter, Facebook and general social media darling, it’s been my job to keep everything updated up to the minute.  Mostly this has meant Tweeting – since we are far more deliberate with Facebook updates – everything as it happens.  Basically Hooters went from Tweeting once a day at most to nearly a dozen times daily since I’ve taken over.  I’ve gone from Twitter virgin to Twitter whore.  But the nice kind of whore that everyone totally likes.

To be really general, I write long things and short things.  While getting a tan.  In addition to my work duties, achieving a sun-kissed glow has been a goal of mine.  I’m from Montana.  What’s the point of going to Miami if I don’t get a fabulous tan and make everyone at home jealous?  So goal one, make Hooters fall utterly in love with me so I get a big girl job I love.  Goal two, become a bronzed beach goddess.  We can already mark goal two right on off that list.

Tonight all of the work starts to pay off, because the parties are starting.  And lets be honest, everyone loves a good party.  I suppose this will be a good time to solidify goal one of Hooters falling in love with me.  I’ve shown them I can work; now I just have to charm them with my amazing social skills and impeccable fashion sense.  Don’t worry I’m breaking out the all-important fake eyelashes for the evening.  Eyelashes mean business at Hooters.  That’s how seriously I’m taking this shit.

Feel free to imagine me hobnobbing by the pool this evening as I show off my class and fabulous legs.  I’m in Miami, bitch (or trick if you prefer the edited version).

Towel Creep

Creepers are everywhere.  Especially at Hooters Pageants.  Take yesterday for example, deciding to lay out for a bit and bake in the sun, a contestant and me were enjoying a pleasant conversation about the joys of natural boobs.  Basically we were discussing all the ways we could make ours appear bigger.  Being around countless augmented women, this is a hot topic for us few natural pageant attendees.  Hooters and boob talk – it just makes sense.

We were just beginning to discuss the downfalls of the double bra when my companion decided it was time to flip.  Turning over, she had just enough time to note the pot-bellied man behind us snapping a few choice cellphone shots.  It was fairly obvious that he had been enjoying the view.  I imagine his phone was just brimming with ass pictures of the two of us.  His spank bank was probably full.

About as soon as we noticed, the man got up and walked away.  This meant we didn’t have to move, which had been our plan, to avoid the creep.  We flipped over and continued sunbathing as we moved on to using bronzer to highlight cleavage.

Then he came back.

“I havea make a nortice zat you havea sweatz.  It ver hot zo I bring toweeel vor you gerlz.”  Please note that he was foreign.

There he was letting us know that he had notice us sweating in the 90-degree heat and decided to bring us towels.  Of course we already had towels.  That took the whole thing to the next level of creepy.  We attempted thanks while pointing to the towels we already had, but he simply continued to stand there and hold the towels at arm’s length expectantly.  Finally we just took them.  And decided a walk to the beach sounded really nice.

Creeeeeeeep.

P.S.  Figure your shit out, Photo Uploader.  I'm trying to break up this text shit here!

Welcome to Miami (Bienvenido a Miami)

Please Listen to Will Smith's "Miami" while reading this post to experience it to it's full potential.

Almost time to give that crown back.

Arriving at the Miss Hooters International Swimsuit Pageant was a lot like my first day as a Hooters Girl – it scared me absolutely shitless.  As my plane was taxiing to the gate, I actually had one of those “what the heck am I doing here” moments.  I’d looked forward to this for so long and suddenly all I felt was nervous terror.  How would I get to the hotel?  Will people think I’m nice?  What if they thought I’d be prettier?  Is there a bathroom near the gate?  Did I forget my hairbrush?  Will they like me?

First off, yes, there was a bathroom near the gate and did bring my hairbrush.  Then came the harder questions.  The first question was answered fairly easily.  After collecting my luggage – which came out on the wrong belt might I add – I noticed a group of hot chicks sitting around a middle-aged woman with a clipboard that read “Hooters Pageant Contestants” across the back.  That wasn’t me.  But I had no one else to ask.

“And your name is?”  Did she think I was a contestant?  “Yup, there you are on my list!”

I was on the list!  Not only did I have a ride to the hotel, I was actually on the contestant list.  Not that I was an actual contestant, but my name was on the same list as all those hotties.  I felt prettier almost immediately.  At least my name got to be hot.

And I got to sit and wait with all these hot girls.  That makes me hot too right?  I hoped I was fooling the people walking by in the baggage claim area.  It was immediately apparent that I must have been fooling someone.

“So where are you from and are you ready for this?” said the blonde next to me.

This blonde thought I was a contestant!  Score one for small boobed girls everywhere!  But this wasn’t any blonde; this blonde was Morgan Meyer, current Hooters Girl of the Year.  This was THE blonde and she thought I was a contestant.  I almost didn’t want to correct her.  But I did, because lying is for little boys and wolves and shit.

THE blonde.

As I was telling her the truth of my stay in Miami, Morgan admitted to knowing who I was and saying she loved my writing.  So I was hot and totally awesome at pretending to be a journalist.  That’s just about when I decided this whole thing wouldn’t end up too bad.  I was in.

So far I’ve had an amazing time here in Miami.  It’s been fabulously sunny (which coming from not-so-sunny Montana has been totally amazing) and I’ve been enjoying the gorgeous location.  Basically I’ve turned into Hooters social media contact – in addition to a few other responsibilities – attending photo shoots and events and relaying everything on Facebook and Twitter.  Seriously, every update on those pages this week will probably be from me.  This means you should probably check them out.

But beyond working and really loving it, what I’m most surprised by is how nice everyone has been so far.  Much like when I began my Hooters journey, I was nervous about the cattiness.  I was worried there would be a gaggle of bitches.  While I’m sure there is a bitch or two in the bunch, all the girls I’ve met so far are amazing.  They’re gorgeous and nice.  But then I guess that’s always been the true beauty of the Hooters Girl.

Have I mentioned I love my job?  I freaking LOVE my job.