Sturgis Rally
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Creeping Jennie And The Poster Model Contest

SBC-POSTER-MODEL-740x400
(Originally Posted by Creeping Jennie on Monday, 16 March 2015​ in Sturgis.com Blogs)

Want to get a free one day pass to the Biggest Party Anywhere? Can you answer a few simple questions about yourself? Do you have a vagina?

Yes yes and yes!

The Legendary Buffalo Chip is putting on its annual poster model search competition, and with the promise of a free concert just for answering a couple of questions, you can see why so many local women participate. And yes, that includes me. I already have my week long pass, but I like to get the day passes for my friends who would not otherwise be able to enjoy a concert. I have no aspirations of attempting to make it to the semi-finals, because let's face it, I'm not exactly what they are looking for. I'm 5'2" and weigh 150 pounds. So there's that. I do have a relatively small waist, big hips and big bust- a true hourglass figure- but I'm just not Barbie shaped. I never have been, and I never will be, and that's ok.

Although I have never been perfectly happy with my body, I have come to appreciate it. Yes, I have a poochy, stretchmark covered belly, but that's ok. I had a big booty back when tiny butts were fashionable. Now that they are, mine is not as firm as it used to be. That's ok. My arms and legs are short and thick. I have never had long, graceful limbs, but that's ok. I have made peace with my "imperfections," and have come to realize that they are what make me unique. I'm now finally at a place in my life where I can get up in front of a crowd of people who will inevitably criticize my body, and I really don't care. My value as a human being and as a woman is not dependent on the opinions of others, and is not dependent on my physical appearance.

Never have I felt any desire to move up in the contest. I know very well that I'm not what they are looking for, and I have nothing to prove to myself or anyone else. In fact, I have been actively trying NOT to be chosen. My strategy has consisted of drunkenness, vulgarity, and bitchy attitude. These are all of the things that are recommended to avoid, if the contestant wishes to actually advance. So far it has worked. The beautiful young ladies with the signup sheets appear to loathe my existence. Haha, well not quite, but there is definitely a "OMG not you again" expression on their pretty faces. I have been competing for three years now, and have never been chosen to compete in the semi-finals. That is, until last time.

The process is as follows:

1. Upon entering the bar, seek out the lovely signup girls. They often approach all of the women in the bar and ask them if they would like to compete.
2. Sign up. You have to fill out your contact info and sign the sheet. They will ask you which concert you wish to go to, but I always leave that blank. They will contact y later, and you can tell them then. I find it best to wait until the bands have all been announced.
3. Wait until they call you up. Have a drink or six while you are waiting.
4. When they call you up, they will hand you a bottle of Budweiser, and you will go up on the stage. Remember- label out!
5. They will ask you a few questions about yourself. "Where are you from?" "Have you ridden on a motorcycle?" "What do you do for a living?" are just a few they MAY ask you. If you don't want to win, then BE VULGAR. For example: "How are you doing tonight?" "I'm fan-fucking-tastick!"
6. Someone will probably take your picture. Remember- LABEL OUT!
7. Go sit your drunk ass down and wait for them to NOT call your name as a semi-finalist.
8. Go home and wait a month or more for them to email or call you with info about your wristband.

Simple, right?

Last time, I guess I was not vulgar enough. My questions and answers were:

Q: "So your name is Creepy Jennie?" A: "That's CREEPING Jennie."
Q: "And as I remember, you're a writer? You have a blog that you write, among other things?" A: "Yes, among other things."
Q: "Ok, so what is one of your pet peeves?" A: "IDIOTS." 
Q: "Ok, idiots. Can you name one, specifically?" A: "Like me ex-husband, for one."
Q: "Tell me, if you knew you were going to a deserted island, what three things would you take with you?" A: "I would bring lots of sunscreen, because I burn like a motherfucker. I would bring my husband to protect me from wild animals and 'entertain' me, and alcohol." 
Q: "Ok, how much alcohol would you take?" A: "Well, I know how to produce alcohol, so really just enough to get me started."

I fucked up. Instead of saying "alcohol," I should have said, "lube, lots and lots of lube!" and winked. I sat my ass back down, waiting for them to call the names of girls who were younger and prettier than me. I was in shock when they called my name. As they posed us for a picture, I realized that I am old enough to be the other three girls' mother. WTF am I doing up here? What did I do?

A gentleman called us to the back where he could speak without screaming, and explained the next step. He gave us each an info sheet and explained it to us. He told us we will need a selfie to proceed to the next step. He told us to make sure they are tasteful. I made a joke about how they bust have chosen the wrong bitch for that. He laughed. The other three girls did not. He then produced tank tops wrapped in plastic, and explained that he did not have all sizes. One girl was quite quick to claim the size she wanted. He only had one size small, and that was fine. I claimed it, and the other girls gawked at me incredulously. Seriously, I'm a fucking smurf next to these girls, and I take a small. Fuck you. He shook our hands and I returned to my seat.

My friend, a fellow Rally partier who also competed for the wristband, said, "I'm sorry you won!" She knows me, and she knows that my plan has been spoiled. Because I qualified for the semifinals, I am not allowed to come back to compete again. FUCK.

Here lies my dilemma: Do I give up now, and be happy with my little size small tank top, or do I actually give this a shot?

If I give it a shot, that means I have to wear a bikini. In front of people. In a bar. And there is no way on earth I will make the next round. Maybe if the other contestants all get hit by a semi. At the same time. Even then. No matter the outcome, I will get a professional photoshoot for free, and a weeklong wristband to the Buffalo Chip.

I never really thought this whole thing would have such a negative effect on my self confidence. I loathe wearing bikinis. I have an ugly belly and an impressive cellulite/stretchmark collection that I don't wish to display. However, If I do it, then maybe other women like me will have the courage to do it. Maybe they will think, "If that old bitch can do it, then I sure can." Maybe I should just think of it as Woody paying me to strut around in a bikini. Yep, that will do it. Thanks, Woody! 

Poster model contest- the conclusion
What The Fuck
 
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