A Life Wasted

Miss America

Tuesday, the day after I informed Mary of our upcoming marriage, was a repeat of the previous day. Me chasing her around as much as my job allowed and her running away as politely as possible. Today I'd be called a stalker. Rightfully so. From my point of view we'd not made any progress. Meaning I'd not even managed to hold her hand. Yet I managed to hang around her long enough for her to get to know me a little better. By the end of the day I sensed her defenses weakening. Or at least I'd wore her defenses down some. Whatever the case, late in the day she still ran from me, she just didn't run as fast.

Tuesday night had been busy with multiple guests arriving for the telethon, so after delivering the format to Pat I barely had time to get to the airport for an incomming guest so I couldn't stop at Ken's house to see Mary. Wednesday morning was just as rushed with trips to the hotel. The last guest I picked up at the hotel for that day's show was Dorothy Benham, the reigning Miss America. I had picked her up at the airport late the previous night, so we'd already met. Dorothy was my age, friendly and easy to talk to. She was from Minnesota and as wholesome as you'd expect a Minnesota girl to be. On both rides she sat in the front seat (as the guest always did) with her chaperone in the back. For some reason we were both talkative, so we chatted from the airport to the hotel. She talked about how being Miss America was not what she expected. About having to be chaperoned by a Pageant watcher everywhere and how her life was non-stop flights, appearances and hotel rooms. She said I was the first person she'd met her own age since she won the crown and that it was nice to talk to someone she could relate to.

Dorothy's story was interesting, I mean, how often does a twenty year old guy get to have a long talk with Miss America. It was a unique experience, wish I understood that at the time. Still, it didn't seem like a big deal. Dorothy was such a friendly person I couldn't help but enjoy her company. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was easy to look at. She had a great personality. That I was only interested in her friendship was obvious because all I talked about was Mary. I told Dorothy about this girl I just met, a girl I was in love with, the girl I would marry. But the girl didn't feel the same way. Every time I asked Mary out she said no. I said I think she might be scared of me. To this Dorothy said, "Your a nice guy, good looking, funny and smart. Why wouldn't she want to go out with you. And why would she be scared of you?" I hadn't thought about that so I did for a second then said the only thing that came to mind. I told her it might be because I just got out of prison. The chaperone leaned so far over the seat I thought she was going to crawl between us. Dorothy wasn't put off by my pronouncement and asked, "Why were you in prison?" So I told her the relevant parts of my story. By the time we reached her hotel she had convinced me that my past would not matter to this girl.

The next morning when I met Dorothy at her hotel to take her to the studio she was the same friendly person. The ride from hotel to studio usually took fifteen minutes that time of morning, so we didn't have much time to talk, but on the ride we agreed on doing dinner together that night. I'm pretty sure she asked me, mainly because I can't see me asking Miss America out under any circumstances, but especially at this point when I was completely focused on my future wife. When we entered CBN Mary the receptionist introduced herself to Dorothy. I should have introduced them but I was busy looking around for Mary, My Mary. I was drawn into their conversation when Dorothy grabbed my elbow and pulled me towards her. Then, with the bright and radiant smile that helped her become Miss America, Dorothy told Mary the receptionist that her and I had a date tonight. I hadn't thought of it as a "date" until she said so then. I thought we were just going to dinner together.

I walked Dorothy back to makeup and the makeup artist said to me, "How am I going to improve on that," pointing at Dorothy's radiant face. Everyone laughed politely. Dorothy had heard it before. As I excused myself and turned to leave Dorothy said to me, "What time are you going to pick me up for our date?" Behind Dorothy the makeup girl's mouth dropped open. She was single and knew me well enough to know I hadn't dated anyone since my return. I hadn't thought about the time so said I'd check my schedule and let her know after the show. Lame, I know, but I just wasn't into this "date".