Escort of A Beauty Queen

Well, well. The idea of this post came months ago, but a question asked by a dear old friend prompted me to write it up. The question-of-the-year "What's wrong with being superficial?". (Frankly, I almost puked at her gall for even asking ME such a thing)

True to the genetic codes embedded in one's inherited DNA, some people are born more beautiful than others. Facial features at harmony with one another, the stature 'just right' and skin with flawless complexion. But as they say, everybody's beautiful in their own special way. Look around you; observe what's going on and you know that's crap. So, I am here talking about the people whom society view to be 'the pretty ones', as encoded by DNA.

It's not really my fault that I have beautiful friends. Most of which, I knew even before the blossomed into society's eye-candy. So we go out, just hanging around and here comes a sad bunch of wolf-whistlers, oggling at a certain someone in our group, desperate for attention from non-other than the Beauty Queen. On a different occasion comes a wandering hand, groping at dear old Beauty Queen's ass while lining up for McD's. Switch the scenario to one with the more intelligent breed of men. So as all of us sit down for a chat, these 'suitors' make an equal amount of conversation with everyone, just being friendly and enjoying the company. A few days later, Beauty Queen gets 'the callback'. Funny how you can say these situations resemble auditions. This Beauty Queen would, more often that not, turn them down after a period of 'getting-to-know-them'.

And so the same thing happens eveytime we go out. It doesn't take a genius to know that everyone else is getting sick at how these 'suitors' time and time again go after the Beauty Queen. The rest of us, are just people who happen to be around her at that moment in time. Just escorts of the Beauty Queen; entities that are not meant to attract. We are the styrofoam and bubblewraps that come along in the box of you brand new television set. As I said earlier, although 'suitors' are equally pleased with the quirks of the escorts, at the end of the day, we don't exist. Invisible, disappeared into oblivion, and next time around they go "...and you are?". Some of the sleazier ones actually bother to befriend escorts, and after enough time has lapsed not to be rendered as 'desperate', would actually enquire as to the status and well-being of the Beauty Queen.

Sickening isn't it, being regarded as an escort? Although we know we have just as much (or maybe more) to offer than the Beauty Queen, we are being brushed aside. Don't get me wrong, Beauty Queen doesn't mistreat us in any way. It's all good and friendly. It's just that where suitor's are concerned, we apparently become invisible just because we didn't win the genetic lottery. So just once, I wished someone would take a second glance of me for what I have to offer instead of taking second glances of the Beauty Queen I am with. I'm not envious of the attention given by the sleazy wolf-whistling degenerate morsels of society, but the ones with more integrity. For the 'suitors' who failed to win ye fair maiden's heart and suddenly show interest in us humble escorts (especially once they realize we ARE females) : thanks, but I personally refuse to be a consolation prize. Even lifelong escorts have their pride.

Back to the question "what's wrong with being superficial?". Well Beauty Queen, if I were you, I'd be sick of the way people treat you so superficially and cease all cosmetic tweakings. Why go through all the trouble to feed the idiosynchrosies of the typical pool of 'suitors'? It may not necessarily be your fault, but there are things that you can do to elevate the expectations and open the eyes of these occasionally unfortunate souls. It's up to people like you to divert the attention of 'suitors' to something better : substance

I quote Memoirs of a Geisha : " An autobiography would be like asking a rabbit how he looks like while jumping around in the field. A memoir, on the other hand, would be the rabbit's view of the field while he's jumping about, and of course, his thoughts and emotions while doing so". So to my readers, this is MY view of the 'field' and the 'players' of this 'game'; since I am obviously not IN the game but somewhere, peeking from the sidelines. After all, rabbits are shy creatures, right? *wink* And I'll leave you to that.