By womantrek on January 29, 2014
Majorette checked her hair and makeup one more time in the compact she brought with her.
"Whenever you're ready, Ms. Kearns, we're live," the producer announced.
The public access station was one of the few places that had Open Internet, and although it was still heavily monitored, she didn’t think her new blog sponsors were all that concerned. She cleared her throat before beginning.
"My first taste of “The Way Things Are” happened in Oregon in 1999. My husband, Ben, had recently moved back to Michigan, missing his family terribly, and I had just gotten a job at a local television station. I didn’t want to leave. I’ll never forget it, and I’ll never forget my beautiful Chef, for this very specific lesson. I hope she’s doing well. She was an absolute artist and talent in the kitchen – I admired her work immediately, and wanted to help. That is who I was, you see. The help. The cheerleader, The idea person, The lover."
"Um. I guess what I'm saying is…my joy comes from watching success unfold - of people that I admire. People that I have a gut instinct about. People that I know will make a positive difference in the world. Knowing that they’re the ones I’ve helped along the way…makes me feel good about myself…I guess. It’s a connection that no one can take away, that you never need discuss. It’s a glance, or a crooked smile, or a wink--"
Majorette paused for a brief moment, dropped her eyes and nodded a bit before looking back up into the camera and continuing.
"It’s when intentions get misinterpreted as being “bossy,” or inauthentic, or when someone gets greedy, that things turn south – and then you have to let go – or the special bond that exists will be destroyed… "
"One night Magda disclosed some very unspeakable things she had to do in order to make her way up to being a renowned restaurateur. She had worked under some very auspicious Master Chefs – in Florida, in Georgia, and now on the West Coast. My gut instinct was that she had been passed around, working and being the “ghost” chef of many restaurants she worked at. I don’t know if it had anything to do with her sexual orientation (lesbian identified), or the fact that she was a woman – but there was something…wrong. She relocated to Oregon with a “No Strings” invitation – but learned quickly that “no strings” still meant late night blow jobs in the limo after dinner rush."
She paused again, this time shielding her eyes from the bright lights. "Is this…? Is this what you're looking for?"
The voice from behind the lights seemed familiar, yet cold. "Please continue, Majorette."
"This is where I came in. She was losing it. Her restaurant was brand spanking new, and enjoying a fantastic opening – but because she was unable to compartmentalize and get over the “bait and switch” tactics of her last hope financier, her personal life suffered, her relationships suffered, and the love of her life – the restaurant – suffered."
Another pause, before continuing, almost apologetically.
"It was my sister that introduced us. She and her boyfriend were basically running things at the Restaurant while Magda ran around trying to get her head on straight. Gay was promising the world, and even brought in his Mistress, Catherine, to help decorate the restaurant’s new (promised) section.
At this point, I was head over heels in love with her. I felt my husband ditched me with two children, and I completely admired her fortitude, and her independence….or the illusion of her independence. And she was driven - rowing machine for an hour everyday, studying recipes and testing sauces until opening in the afternoon. Her discipline was an inspiration, and I found myself immediately ensconced. After a while, I identified what she needed, intuitively – whether it was rewriting her menu make it fit with the restaurant’s theme, or maybe it was stepping in to host, or support waitstaff – I was there for her. And she appreciated it, I know she did - she showed me.
Catherine saw the same things I did, but more fervently, and desperately. I think she and I were the same, in fact. A muse trying to find her anchor. They began a relationship, and I became so jealous that I called up Gaylord at his big wig financial firm and left him a very informational --"
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