Being a long-time supporter of beauty queens and pageants, I nearly decided not to write about this recent incident I had with an outgoing titleholder, but then again, I thought this could teach other pageant ladies out there a lesson or two about basic courtesy. Or maybe, since those who would like to enter this highly-socially interactive world will inevitably be exposed to a lot of individuals and personalities, this piece should encourage them to improve on their name recall and/or face association skills lest they’d be charged of suffering from a bad case of amnesia.
Let’s call this subject Sweet Potato (or kamote in Tagalog), which, while sweet in taste, can cause people to feel flatulent and eventually fart (after all, her off-stage attitude lets off the same foul smelling steam). I’ve got three brushes with this woman so far. The first two were okayish. The last one was a total disaster.
I met her first, virtually, when her mentor asked me for help in polishing her Q and A skills for the international pageant she was to compete in. Supposedly coming from a privileged and well-off background, she proved herself to be well-spoken (although sometimes needing guidance in direction and substance). I was introduced to her as a busy communications executive and news anchor and, in turn, she accorded me with the appropriate respect and attention protégés usually give their mentors. That long session gave me the impression that she really wanted to win. So I truly wished her the best for her competition since I knew she had big shoes to fill coming from the previous representative’s sterling performance in the same pageant. I even asked her if, after that, I could add her on social media, so we could have a line between us, just in case she needed further coaching while in competition. Excitedly, she said yes, so I did. While she never accepted the friend request that I sent, I just thought that maybe she didn’t want any distractions during her competition, and so I did not take offense for it. I remained her supporter and even defended her against online bashers who criticized some of her performances in the competition. As lady luck did not smile on her efforts to represent the country well, she came home unplaced, with the main pageant organizers saying to Filipino fans: you sent us the wrong girl, she wasn’t who we were looking for.
As fate would have it, we met each other again in a social function in the integrated resort I am working in and, naturally, I was introduced to her by people as the company’s Communications Director. As I reminded her of our first meeting through an online platform, she remembered me as her Q and A coach and somehow warmed up at the time we were re-introduced. We took some photos together and had a wonderful degustation with her queen sisters (one of whom joined us fresh from winning her own global pageant). Throughout the night, I noticed though that while her fellow queens were very expressive on how they were enjoying dinner and their time with us, Sweet Potato was detached and non-participative, mostly quiet and looking uninterested. Having a soft spot for her, I thought that maybe, it wasn’t a good time for her to socialize that night (malay ko ba, if she’s not feeling well or may have some personal problems).
Fast forward to just a couple weeks ago, we bumped into each other a third time when I attended an awards night for fashionistas. She was there as a participant in a fashion show segment of the program, while I was there as an awardee for media excellence. After finishing on my turn to hit the stage, I decided to leave right away to catch up on another appointment. While on my way out, together with my personal glam team, I happened to cross paths with Sweet Potato in the venue’s lobby, so I thought it was just polite for me to greet her. So I gently called her name as she walked past me. She stopped, looked at me and looking quizzical (and irritated) asked: “Yes?” I knew that she didn’t remember me (again!) so I introduced myself again. With a smile, I told her my name. Looking as if she got even more irritated, she responded: “And so?” I was shocked and taken aback. I still managed to smile, but just decided to go on my way. Imagine my embarrassment when my stylist remarked: “Kilala ka ba talaga ‘nun, Sir? Ang maldita niya!”
Naturally offended after that encounter, my immediate reaction was to call some of her pageant batch mates and ask about how she actually is in their company. I really didn’t want to write this blind item on account of just that incident, lest I’d be unfair in judging her. The calls I made, however, only confirmed that she’s really one small girl with a big attitude. Per her pageant sisters, she is really full of herself and is insensitive most of the time. Now, I’m no longer wondering why she lost big time when she joined her competition abroad. For what I know about her now, I guess the perfect sash for her should be Miss Grand Ego-International.
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