There are only a few things that can make the heat of a Texas summer more bearable. Margaritas, Mexican beer, a good view of the lake and gorgeous girls in bikinis! Carlos 'n Charlie's showed that they have mastered the art of taking our minds off the
mercury, even on a 102-degree day.
As the front deck of the restaurant began to fill with boys and men from every walk of life, and the tequila began to flow, I suddenly felt that perhaps I had made an error in judgment by agreeing to cover the Miss Hawaiian Tropic Model Search. It's not easy to be virtually the only female civilian (ie, non-model/dancer) at such an event. I had a moment of deep identification with Skipper, Barbie's flat-chested little sister, as the contestants bounced in and out of the not-too-well-hidden dressing rooms in various states of undress.
Tunes with lyrics about Legs, Tush, and American Girls blasted across the palm-treed lot while I spoke with Christina Pargac, the
fully-clad PR manager for Carlos 'n Charlies. "This show has gotten pretty hectic, but we're getting used to it, because there's always an event in the works here," she boasts. "Next weekend is the Juvenile Diabetes Foundation Volleyball Tournament. We have one of only two permanent outdoor volleyball courts in the U.S., so those types of events are sort of our specialty." Not surprisingly, they also participate in several Jose Cuervo events every year.
The em-cee takes the stage, makes his "Thank-Yous," and warms up the crowd for the beauties hovering at the corner of the Hawaiian Tropic banner. This is obviously the sports-wear category, though most of the get-ups wouldn't lend themselves to any sport I could describe here. Some girls are in sequined bustiers, some in stripy things that zip, some in tiny scraps of denim. All but one wear
high-heels. (I am instantly rooting for the one in Keds.)
As they begin their short but animated parade across the stage, smiling and waving at the judges like old friends, I take a closer look at the honorable judges myself. The manager of Sugar's, Don King, smokes a cigar and waves right back, since he knows nearly half of the contestants from around the office water-cooler. There is a Carlos 'n Charlie's employee or two, some staffers from Hawaiian Tropic, and even a used car salesman.
One by one, each contestant walks and turns and grins while the em-cee reads a brief description of the lady's finer qualities- pithy little portraits the competitors have prepared themselves. Yvonne Gomez considers herself a "spicy Mexican chili;" another, when pressed for three words to describe herself, has chosen "active, active and ...active." Fourteen lovelies later, the judges take a moment to catch their breath (some of them because they can't stop laughing), and tabulate the first round of scores.
Back in the dressing room, the professional beauty queens are easy to spot. They are the ones with the compartmentalized make-up bags and their own electric fans, who carry autographed 8x10 glossies of themselves to every contest. The amateurs have to get someone else to tie their swimsuits and forget to take off their watches before they hit the stage. Soon, they are all lined up behind the stage, rubbing their teeth and adjusting each other's bikinis.
The moment we have all been waiting for has palpably arrived. Men who were seated are standing; those who were already standing are now on their chairs; some have even climbed the railing poles for a better view. This is not only the swimsuit competition- it is also the moment when each hopeful Hawaiian Tropic spokes-model will reveal the subtleties of her personality, in response to questions she, again, has penned herself.
"Miss No.1!" the em-cee crows into the silver-suited girl's face. She seems startled, but recovers quickly after a brief teeter on her heels. "What is your favorite food and WHY?!" "Sushi," she answers, "because is keeps my lips and skin very soft." Cryptic, but the effect is not lost on the judges or the crowd. We all hoot and whistle (yes, me too) as though she has just scored a touchdown for Plato's team. No. 3, who announces that she admires her mother's morals, also receives a better than lukewarm welcome. Even a happy "Tuh!" or a "Hee-hee..." are, apparently, considered correct answers to quizzes on education and hobbies. In this well-oiled group, we have a National Honor Society Member, a small business owner, and a scientist, lest one might think that there is no light in any of these
finely coiffed attics. After each contestant has taken her turn, they form a line across the back of the stage. It seems the judges, in all their wisdom, have requested a view of all the girls from the rear, so that they may "compare." The 14 competitors oblige, and we are all treated to this final butt-presentation before they leave us.As the judges count their scores, a waitress attempts to push her way through the testosterone on the deck, looking a bit panicked. Some of the guys are giddy, as they have never seen so many really great breasts in one place. When the contestants return, we learn that there will be two winners: Miss Carlos 'n Charlie's and Miss Emerald Point Marina. Both will go to Houston for the State Championship, both will win prizes from Airscape Parasail and Club Watersports, and both will be that much closer to the $100,000 prize awarded to Miss Hawaiian Tropic, 1996.
The runner-up, Natasha Saba, takes her near-victory with cheerful nonchalance. It is her first beauty contest, and had the news of the event not been written on the bathroom mirror at Sugar's, she might not have come at all. Miss Carlos 'n Charlie's turns out to be the Sushi fan, Kem Minnick, who has already appeared in beer commercials and has a few tiarras stacked in her compartmentalized make-up case. But when Lana, Miss Emerald Point, takes her bouquet and sash from the Hawaiian Tropic rep, the crowd literally goes wild. Lana, now known to all of us in the audience as "tur-QUOISE!!" thanks to a chant that caught on during the bikini contest, sheds a few tears down the front of her aqua swimsuit. I realize that she must be the one with the electric fan.
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