“Sore thumb,” “fish out of water,” “square peg in a round hole” -- clearly, I did not fit in at Mynt. I couldn’t even fake it. Even Lea looked more at home “in da club” than I did. Heck she even danced! To see me sitting there was like watching someone observing an uneventful tennis match. All I remember was a lot of he said, she said, he-she said, or, well, you know what I mean. Basically it was Wimbledon for drag queens. That whole debacle will take an interesting turn as the season progresses, so stay tuned for that.
Finally we get to what I like to call “model meltdown.” I tried to stay out of it, because I did not feel that it was appropriate to advise, console, or otherwise interfere when I had just met these people. For Lisa to offer an opinion or a helping hand made sense. Everyone else? Not so much.
Watching Joanna’s breakdown was both strange and endearing. Strange because her squeals and bouncing were very disturbing, but also endearing because she came to her sister’s rescue. As the mother of sisters, I appreciate the fierce loyalty that Joanna exhibited towards Marta. I now know that Joanna didn’t have an easy life and had to practically raise her sister. She probably witnessed Marta suffering through an awful break-up. It is clear that seeing Mr. DeeJay conjured up all those bad memories. I wish Marta could have appreciated that instead of yelling at Joanna. That being said, I felt awful for Romain. It was his big night. The 10-year anniversary of a club is a feat in itself, and he should have been able to enjoy the fruits of his labor. Those two have a lot of issues to work out before they can focus on that genetically gifted family. I really hope they do.