BY PATRICIA MARX | The very last thing in the world I want to do is tell this story. But for the good of the country, I feel I must reveal the details of my relationship with Kenneth W. Starr. Besides, the story will be coming out next week in the Pepperdine Law Review Journal and on my Web site (www.starrstruck.com).

For nearly four years, I worked in the office of the independent counsel as a paralegal, looking into possible noise pollution violations committed by the Clintons on Air Force One. I first met Starr when I was assigned to accompany him to Paris to investigate whether an Evian bottle found in Vince Foster's office could be evidence of foreign involvement in Whitewater. It was aboard the Concorde -- which we took back to the United States so as not to waste the taxpayers' precious time -- that Mr. Starr brushed my shoulder when he fastened his seat belt. He said such travel was not an illicit affair as long as we did not transport livestock through customs.

Mr. Starr and I were to go on many other fact-finding missions in the years to come. Just last January, while President and Mrs. Clinton danced on the beach of the Virgin Islands, we flew on a chartered helicopter overhead and, with high-tech espionage equipment, charted how long they danced, if there was possible ecological damage to the sand dunes they danced on, whether they obstructed justice while they danced and, most importantly, if there was a sign on the beach that said, "NO DANCING!"

People think that Mr. Starr is a cold man, but I saw another side of the prosecutor. I saw a man who showered me with gifts, such as an electronic organizer and a pair of night-vision binoculars stained with anti-bacterial spray. I saw a man who gave a T-bone to a cocker spaniel before he wired him and sent him into the White House to "play" with Buddy. I saw a man who cried during "Les Miz" when Inspector Javert, who had been doggedly chasing Jean Valjean for years because he had stolen a crust of bread, finally falls into some water.

I realize going public with my story will change my life forever -- that I will become an object of media scrutiny. I only hope that the press will respect the privacy of my mother, who is hard at work on her book, "I Liked Ike, Which Is Not the Same as Loving Him." I also pray that "Nightline" refrains from showing the really embarrassing part of the video of my camp production of "Oklahoma!"

Why have I come out now? Simple. I want America to know the truth. I also want a make-over like Paula Jones and a new hairdo like Linda Tripp (who now looks like she's trying out for "Friends"). And what will Mr. Starr think about my confession? The independent counsel is an honest man. He has faith that if the facts of our proper relationship are revealed to the nation, he, like President Clinton, will see a boost in his ratings.
SALON | Feb. 5, 1998 

Patricia Marx is a screen and television writer who recently authored "Now Everybody Really Hates Me," a children's book illustrated by Roz Chast.