Mr Congeniality

Barba shoved the envelope toward Carisi as if it physically pained him to touch it. “Rita likes to have her fun with me,” he said sourly. “It’s the same joke every year, as if it’ll somehow magically get funnier with each iteration.”Carisi flipped the envelope over, eyebrows shooting up toward his hairline as he read out loud, “‘The Mayor’s All-Borough Charity Benefit Mr. New York Pageant’?” He looked from the envelope to Barba. “Are you kidding?”Barba winced. “Unfortunately, no,” he said. “Rita sits on the board and every year she thinks it’s just plain hilarious to invite me to audition as a contestant.”