Marimba

So I'm driving home yesterday and for no good reason I start thinking about beauty pageants.

One in particular: the big one where I went to college. I was the sound and light guy in the big auditorium on campus, and I always worked the big beauty pageant. It was a big deal, too; it was an honest-to-God feeder to the Miss Arkansas pageant, and it brought out all sorts of pageant queens, pageant moms and young gay men. I worked closely with one of the girls who coordinated the thing, too, so I knew all the secrets of boob-taping and tooth-greasing that went on backstage.

And specifically, I was thinking about the girl who played the marimbas.

Marimbas look like a big, big xylophone. Every year, that girl would roll out her marimbas. Every year, she didn't win. The winners, as a rule, either sang or played piano. Guitar players, dancers, and especially marimba players had no chance of winning. That's just the way things work.

She was fooling herself. She could have taken her mallets (and yes, you play marimbas with mallets - I looked it up) and stuck one in her ass and the other in her twat and played it that way and she still wasn't going to win.