I walked up the steps of the brownish-brick ranch house and rang the doorbell. A mom with a short haircut answered. “I’m here to see…” I hesitated, realizing I didn’t know Miss Kentucky’s name. “I’m here to see your daughter.” She got a bemused expression on her face as she looked me up and down. The baggies in my hands caught her eye. “Wait right here,” she said and disappeared.
The minute I had found out Miss Kentucky lived down the street from me, I was her super-fan. I was around 8 years old, and I couldn’t believe a real live celebrity was living in my neighborhood. I’d ride my bike by her house hoping to catch a glimpse of her, but no such luck. My friends said none of them had seen her either. One day, my curiosity couldn’t take it any more, and I decided to go pay her a visit.
But what do you take when you go see a pageant queen? What did I have that she didn’t already have? After searching around the house, I landed on some seashells I’d collected on our last beach trip. And some Hershey’s kisses. Who doesn’t like chocolate, and who doesn’t like seashells for that matter? I’d put them in separate baggies (some seashells might have still been sandy; didn’t want to mix sand and chocolate) and pedaled off on my powder-blue bike.
All of a sudden, there she was! Miss Kentucky!
She looked prettier than I could have imagined. She had hot rollers in her hair because she said she was getting ready for a date. I told her I lived down the street, and I wanted to congratulate her on winning Miss Kentucky. Also, I wished her good luck at Miss America. I’d be watching to cheer her on.
She oohhed and oh’d and said how precious and sweet that was of me. She loved her seashells! She didn’t have any! (I had figured as much). She thanked me for coming over. Then, she asked me if I’d like to come inside, and see her crown?
Why, yes. Yes I would.
So there I was, standing in Miss Kentucky’s bedroom, staring at myself in her full-length stand-up mirror, wearing her sash (it was very heavy) and crown. I was spellbound. Her room was full of posters and perfume and make-up. Speaking of make-up, she had quite a layer on for her date, making her face a couple shades darker than her neck. We talked a bit more and then she thanked me again for the visit. She hugged me and said she was glad to make a new friend. Her date would be here soon and she had to finish getting ready.
Miss Kentucky was glad to make a new friend!
I raced home on my bike, elated and proud of myself. I burst into the house and bragged to my mother and sister about meeting such a celebrity. At first I just talked about how nice she was, and how she loved her seashells. Then for extra dramatic effect, I casually mentioned she let me try on her crown. ‘Cause, you know, we’re tight like that now. We’re besties.
The thing was, we didn’t ever see each other again. She must have been very busy getting ready for the big pageant and with her dating life. So the times I thought she might come by and pay me a visit, or ask me to come over and help pick out her ballgown, those never happened. Nor did we talk on the phone, about her boyfriends or her pageant talent preparation or dieting (she was drinking a Tab when I came by). And sadly, she lost Miss America. She didn’t make it into the top 10. But for one shimmering afternoon, I was in the presence of royalty.