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    Near Miss America
    Near Miss America
    Near Miss America
    Ebook112 pages1 hour

    Near Miss America

    By Lavinia Cox and Howard Elgison

    ()

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    About this ebook

    "Who celebrates being first runner-up?" you might ask. I did. So much so that I even ended the book with a rap song about it—Southern, beauty queen rap, that is.

    Runner-up Rap
    I'm not Miss America
    But I'm still pumped
    'Cause I love being
    The first runner-up

    It's a lifetime job
    Being Miss America
    But we runners-up
    Can hang up our tiaras

    And no one remembers
    Who came in second
    So I don't have to fret
    When the media beckons

    Former Miss Americas
    Gotta look swell
    But first runners-up
    Can just be ourselves
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBookBaby
    Release dateSep 17, 2022
    ISBN9781667867816
    Near Miss America

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      Book preview

      Near Miss America - Lavinia Cox

      Chapter I

      MISS ADVENTURE

      When I used to read fairy tales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one!

      Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

      New York Rules

      Soon after I became first runner-up to Miss America, I was scheduled to go to New York City for a round of interviews and engagements. I was half thrilled and half terrified. I wasn’t particularly afraid of being mugged, ravaged, and boiled in acid—a fate which many of my townsfolk informed me was almost certain to befall a God-fearing Southern girl in New York. What really worried me was looking like a clueless yokel in the big city.

      To help avert a cultural catastrophe, I had a long talk with a friend who had lived there for several years.

      Give me some tips on getting along in New York, I requested.

      Well, the first rule, she replied, is to keep moving, even if you have no idea where you are or where you’re going.

      Why is that? I asked.

      Because if you stop, you’ll get trampled. Plus, you’ll cause a major disruption that will back up the city clear to Yonkers.

      I see, I said, although I had no idea where, or even what, Yonkers actually was. What else?

      If you’re alone and end up in a scary part of town, she responded, start talking to yourself and acting weird. That way the muggers might think you’re crazy and leave you alone.

      And that works? I asked.

      Not much anymore, she said, the muggers are wise to it. But if you put on a good show, they’ll only take your money and leave your credit cards.

      Hi, I’m Al. I’ll be your mugger for the evening.

      NYC motto: The friendliest muggers in America

      How sweet, I thought. Then I asked, What’s next?

      The last thing, she said, and I cannot stress this too strongly, is never, ever say ‘y’all.’

      What? I shot back. No true Southerner can give up ‘y’all.’ I’d sooner donate a kidney.

      Sorry, but that’s the way it is, she said. Being blond, female, and Southern is bad enough, but utter one ‘y’all’ and they’ll treat you like the village idiot.

      What do I say instead of ‘y’all?’ I asked.

      Either ‘yous’ or ‘yous guys,’ she answered.

      You’re joking, I said.

      No, I’m not, she said. Give it a try.

      Okay. Um, so how are yous all doing today? I offered.

      That was dreadful, she said, cringing. Try the other one.

      I tried again. Yous guys come back now, y’hear.

      She shuddered and said, I think the best idea is to avoid any sentence that requires the second person plural.

      That could be tough, I replied, but I’ll try.

      (Now I ask you, dear reader, compared to those expressions, is not y’all far more lyrical and pleasing to the ear? And y’all even has an extended plural form known as all y’all, but it’s an advanced usage and I don’t recommend it for beginners.)

      I had some wonderful experiences in New York, and became enamored of the city with its non-stop energy and excitement. However, there was an encounter with a young real estate mogul that stands above all others in my memory. But I’ll save that one for last.

      What Kind of Parent…

      For a day that almost culminated in one of the most embarrassing incidents of my life, it started off routinely enough. My first event was speaking at a Rotary Club, and it went a bit long, primarily because a stated objective of the organization is to Help build goodwill and peace in the world, which was right in my wheelhouse.

      That made me late for a ribbon-cutting ceremony dedicating a new building. Fortunately, my ribbon-cutting skills were honed to a fine edge (snicker), and I was able to pick up a few valuable minutes.

      The next event was the one in which the problem occurred. It was a local South Carolina beauty pageant, and I was to be the co-master of ceremonies. It was already underway by the time I arrived, and I had just enough time to put on my falsies, false eyelashes, fake nails, and all the other accoutrements that made me look like a real beauty queen.

      Satisfied that I looked nothing like my true self, I walked on stage without an inkling as to what I was supposed to say. Fortunately, the other MC was a pro who had been doing the pageant for years, and had my lines typed out for me on index

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