I lock arms with my escort and walk into the lights, getting ready to strike a pose in front of the judges. This is what kicks off my experiences of Mr. Viking.

    The show starts with our formal wear. We walk out to show ourselves to the audience before running in the back to get changed for the “So You Think You Can Dance”, where we attempt to show off our dance moves with the help of our escorts. The songs were chosen by grabbing songs from a hat. Luckily I was given “Don’t Worry Be Happy”, and I am feeling pretty good about walking out and not wanting to take everything too seriously.

Mr. Viking is an amazing fundraiser for Cystic Fibrosis while making a playful jest at Miss America and providing an extremely entertaining show for the audience. What I mean by jest is that we have a section entitled “America’s Next Top Model”, where we battle three others contestants for clothing from our fine theater closet, rummaging through the tangled mass to form an outfit all in under two minutes.

    And may I just add, trying to walk in a woman’s size 8 high heels when you normally wear a size 12 in men’s is no walk in the park, no pun intended.

    Talent was the most stressful portion of the show in my opinion; my talent was dance so I hurried to get changed to do my talent, then change again to get into my formal wear for the Q & A.

    The best thing about Mr. Viking (in my mind) was the other contestants. No one was taking the show too seriously, but all were extremely respectful of each other. When the audience wasn’t cheering, the other Mr. Vikings were the first to start with clapping, cheering, and whoo-hooing them from offstage to get the audience going.

    Then of course there comes the crowning, where we all have to stand there and see who the judges will determine the best Mr. Viking. The runner ups are called and I’m positive after not hearing my name that I haven’t placed, which I’m fine with, because I’m almost sure who won and I’m excited for them, and then Mr. Reflector News is called and I’m so shocked that I just stand there until someone pushes me up to the M.C.s where I’m crowned. Though I’m shocked, I still have my constant want for just a little bit of humor and I over exaggerate fake crying and of the pageant wave.

    My cousin passed away from Cystic Fibrosis, so I really wanted to do the show, but I originally wasn’t able to, so when I got the chance again I jumped for it. The funny part was, I didn’t even tell my family about the show till the day of, and I just off handedly mentioned it. Needless to say, my mother was angry to hear that I won and she missed it.

I wasn’t expecting to win. I was just going to try and entertain the people while the rest of the guys went for the top prize and title. I feel like my experience really emphasizes the saying “Relax, and good things will happen for you.”