I have always had an affinity for crowns and tiaras, and count many among my collection -- but was reminded earlier today of one of my more embarrassing "crowning achievements" -- the time I accidentally got Miss Universe's crown stuck on my head.
Yes, you read that correctly -- I actually got Miss Universe's crown stuck on my head -- in front of witnesses no less. And yes - it was, as pictured above. All five pounds of it.
I was in my mid-twenties and working PR at Hersheypark. Miss Universe Dayanara Torres (later married to Marc Anthony if you follow such things) and her chaperone were doing a bit of publicity at a local Ronald McDonald house. I got a call early in the day that summer asking if we would 'comp' Miss Universe (she apparently loved roller coasters) if she would agree to pose for some photos. I happily said yes.
She was lovely - although didn't speak a word of English, and, wearing her crown, posed for many photos with our Chocolate characters and some tourists. Before heading out into the park to play, her chaperone asked if they could leave her rather large crown at Guest Relations - they would then pick it up on their way out at the end of the day.
Once again, I happily said yes.
The crown was mammoth - and when not on Miss Universe's head, lived in a heavy mahogany box lined with velvet.
Miss Universe dashed off into the park, leaving this box in my hands.
I, along with two or three of the young gals working in Guest Relations, watched her walk away. They then turned to me, all of us staring at the box in my hands.
I believe my exact words were along the lines of: "I don't know about you guys, but I am trying this thing on!"
And I did!
We went into the back room - which had a mirror - and I had that thing out of the box and on my head in five seconds flat. And it felt GOOD. And looked even better! I must have admired myself in the mirror for several minutes whilst the others argued about who would try it on next.
Then I went to take it off -- and it was STUCK. Somehow with all my posing and preening, I'd managed to get strands of my then long hair wound around the little jewels going around the base of the crown. And it wasn't coming off - no way, no how.
Our giggles turned to horror as we realized just how stuck it was.
In the middle of all of this, my friend Mark came in to Guest Relations -- "Did I miss seeing Miss Universe?" -- and found me sitting on the floor, crown stuck to my head with two young girls attempting to cut my hair out of it with manicure scissors.
I think his parting words before turning and walking away were: "I don't want to know - I just do not want to know."
After what seemed like an hour, they managed to extricate the crown from my head and we packed it away.
We all agreed that the less said, the better.
Hours later, I got a call from Guest Relations that Miss Universe had come back for the crown, and did I want to come down and say good-bye?
I passed. I figured it best not to put a face to the blonde hairs she'd probably be picking out of her crown for weeks to come.
