Memories of Luxuria--Chairs out Windows

I love 30 Rock.  It’s one of my favorite shows because I relate to Tina Fey’s Liz Lemon so much, especially comparing herself to me during the time when I ran the house of domination.  The Liz Lemon is supposed to be a big dork, though she doesn’t look like a big dork.  No one from the outside looking in on Domina M, Head Mistress of Luxuria would have called her a big dork.  Everyone who actually knew me would have known I was a big dork.  In dating at that time I had a friend call me “Dork Bait” as well. I don’t think it was a complement, but I took it as such.

I am totally using the word "irony" correctly when we pose like this while discussing Marxism.

Where I relate to the character the most though, is when she is trying to keep the whole show going and a lot of it includes dealing with actors’ egos.  Mei Loong and Mistress Devin were the big draws to Luxuria—and the most work.  (If either of you are reading this, sorry, but it’s true.  You were young, thrust into stardom, and the business became dependant upon you.  That was 8 years ago, so I hope you have some understanding of it all now.)  I found myself with some very reasonable, intelligent women who just stopped taking things seriously.  Every time Liz Lemon says something really bizarre to the Jenna or Tracy character to get them to act normal, I say to myself, “I’ve done something similar.”

Perhaps, I’m just over thinking things because it was pro-domme related.  Perhaps, this was just because it was my first time where I had people working for me, for my business.

“Aren’t you afraid they’re going to throw chairs through the window?”  A friend of mine asked.

After about a month of training everyone and spending 80-90 hours a week in the dungeon with my trainees of both shifts I went out to dinner with a friend of mine, leaving Luxuria totally in the capable hands of Mei, Tavia and Devin. (Strangely enough, my friend is the Jack Donaghy/Alec Baldwin character in my pop culture metaphor.)

When I left, I jokingly remarked, “Don’t throw any parties. Don’t open the door to strangers. Don’t hurt yourself.”  I thought it was a comedic play on me being the parent.

“Aren’t you afraid they’re going to throw chairs through the window?”  He actually commented in aghast more than asked.  “Employees are just stupid animals when they are left alone.”

“Don’t be silly.  They’re smart little domme-lettes.”  I totally bragged thinking on what a great choice of character I was and what a totally awesome leader I was.  I enjoyed my dinner with the full confidence that I had everything under control.

Well, 2 hours later I wouldn’t feel that so much.

I’ll bite that after 8 years I might have some colored memories of things, but out of everything I will stake my life on the no strangers, parties, or hurting oneself aspect of what I said because those EXACT THINGS happened in 2 hours.

While I had stepped out for dinner, Mistress Lola stopped by Luxuria.  Those of the NYC scene of 2004 should easily remember Mistress Lola with the black hair and Bettie Page bangs that evolved into facial tattoos and a mohawk. Something interesting about Lola and me, we’d led almost identical lives.  I was always fascinated that we had experienced the same things up to a few years prior where she had gone totally bohemian and relegated herself to the fringe of society and I blended perfectly with the Hamptons crowd.

Well Lola, along with her bohemian self stopped by with another mistress, who I had not met yet and decided to have a make up party.  I returned to Luxuria to find music blaring, strange people there, toys everywhere and somehow Mei had run her hand full of sharps.  Granted no chairs were thrown out of windows, but how Mei had repeatedly pierced herself by accident totally eludes me.  How does that happen??  Who does that?

Not taking this chair

That was probable my last nice dinner for about 5 months.