Oh, wait. I�m a vegetarian.

So potpies ignored, I have only one rule that I live by: Don�t do anything that would make it difficult to be Miss America. No, I don�t wanna be part of that �scholarship program�. But I do think those are some good rules to avoid later embarrassment. (I previously decided to avoid anything that would mess up a political career, but the Miss America decree has all of the same rules and doesn�t allow marriage or kids!) This rules out various moneymakers such as stripping, smuggling el dopa from my hometown in Texas, and robbing orphans.

Scanning the employment pages, one ad among the �Get paid to smoke pot� and �Get paid for safe sex� caught my eyes: They�re having bartender auditions (yes, auditions) for those looking to work for the new Coyote Ugly Saloon at 316 West Erie Street.

Those lucky orphans aren�t getting robbed today.

No, I�ve never seen the movie. No, I don�t regularly flash my navel. No, I don�t routinely shake my groove thing. But Internet research tells me that if I wear some low-rise jeans, don a belly-showing shirt, pull some faux-lesbian moves with my fellow applicants, and gyrate my round tush for all, I could pull this audition off. Let�s not forget that I�m a notorious flirt (I came in second during the high school senior class personality votes, much to my then-boyfriend�s chagrin), and that I actually have some skills that will serve me when applying for this position.

First off, I once worked at a bar. I carried a foam pad filled with test tubes of barely-liquored drinks, charging $2.25 a pop and paying the bar $2 for each one I sold. I made $12 that week, so I quit.

I also attended bartending school during the first Xmas break I was out of college. All of my student friends drove to their parents� homes to eat free food while I was stuck working my 9-to-5 with no vacation time yet saved. I had the time and the $500 to squander on the class, so I attended for three weeks and met all sorts of tax-evading boozehounds looking to make some money to pay for their next fat sack of blow.

There are also all of the dance lessons I took from ages three until eleven, the cheerleading I did throughout high school and college because I wasn�t slutty enough to be on drill team, and the gymnastics coaching I did during my do-good-er stage while making big bucks off of the high-tech industry.

How�s that for life experience?

Coyote Ugly, Entry Three�