Wet eyes aside, I figured now would be a good time to take a trip down memory lane and re-read some of Marjorie's greatest hits. And looking over this list makes me say, "HOLY SHIT. Marjorie definitely was and is a force to be reckoned with." ENJOY (I sure did)!
There was the time Marjorie agreed to let a complete stranger KIDNAP HER. (This may be a bit too harrowing for the faint hearted.)
For one thing, kidnapping doesn't necessarily have to be sexual—unlike the highly sexualized and ever-popular BDSM scene of fashion and polyamory. Platonically, kidnapping could distill an intense experience of voluntary helplessness... without the necessity of a boyfriend! So I resolved to discover firsthand what people were not only asking for, but paying for. I logged onto the personals on craigslist.com and answered an ad that said: "Kidnapper Seeks Captive."
Then there was the time Marjorie agreed to attend an all night hippie rave. (Dear God... the bravery.)
Clutching the maglite I was fully prepared to use as a club, I guess I must have slept, but it was so fitful that I was never aware I had been asleep before something woke me—a louder band coming on (they really did go all night), footsteps close to my tent, a pained part of my body that insisted I shift position. As soon as I could see a hand in front of my face—just before 4 am—I started packing up the bedding I'd burrito-ed myself into despite large patches of wet. An incredibly fried fellow outside my tent was trying to get people to help him finish his mushrooms.
THEN there was the time Marjorie competed on the reality dating show, elimiDATE. (She certainly came prepared.)
As I approached Scott and the other three contestants, things immediately went downhill. Instead of a grand, punchy entrance, I found myself standing around awkwardly while he was still talking to the third contestant. My big splash had more of an "oh sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt" vibe to it. He seemed puzzled by the "vibrating panties" remote control I gave him, and I don't think putting his hand in my crotch—so he could feel the vibration—made a very classy first impression.
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And THEN there was the time we forced Marjorie—who values keen fashion above all other characteristics—to wear those absolutely disgusting Vibram Toe Shoes for three days straight. (Sorry?)
They also make strangers wary of you, like you might be unpredictable or experiencing mental health issues. I was almost home from the store when I ran into a lost dog. My phone was at home charging so I asked a couple pushing a stroller if I could use their phone to call the number on the dog's tag. She was a senior, small, sweet pooch who kept running out into the middle of the street, but those bastards backed away as if they thought I was trying to pull something, and lied (probably), claiming neither one of them had their phones either. As if. (Side note: The dog is fine.)
And for those who remember the Mercury's "golden years" there was Marjorie's feature story on one of Portland's most colorful and popular characters of the '00s—CINDY THE EROTIC PLEASER.
"I have no idea why people approached me to be an escort. [It may be] partially, how I carry myself. There's a certain confidence there. I wear things that are a little intriguing. [My breasts] tend to be shown a lot. The only other possible answer is that this was the answer to my prayers."
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And we're just getting started! Dig into Marjorie's long and varied writings here, and don't worry! There will be more of Marjorie to come in future issues of the Mercury. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
