Dear TABSK, and Dear Jen--For a few days after reading your rude, condescending, childish note, I said to myself, "You know what, Susan? Be the bigger woman. Don't feed the troll. Don't engage in a Jerry Springer-ish spectacle and descend into the gutter with Jen, at least not in the virtual venue, when IRL she would do to you what she did in her first IRL meeting with Chrissy: avoid, be aloof, deflect, hide in the crowd." But, TABSK's readership is watching this, and all of us long-time readers know it is the historical book of record and as such not only records, but in fact, shapes, the conduct of real women. And upon reflection, I have concluded that all gauntlets thrown down, no matter how puny and pathetic, must be answered. After all, it's in the name: Things A Bitch SHOULD Know. Things All Bitches SHOULD Know.
But enough theory, and enough about me, what's my point here? Jen, sweetie--you don't want to fight Chrissy because you might lose a tooth? Really. Really. How fascinationg.
Well .... No shit, Sherlock. It's a fight. A lot of things can happen. There's all kinds of battle scars you can get, sweetie. You can get cuts that need stitches. You can get scratches that never quite heal. You can gets broken bones, some of which require slings or splints or casts for days or weeks (say, fingers or thumbs or wrists), others of which never look how they looked before (collarbones, noses, cheekbones--although, my guess is that in your case, that scenario would be no great loss). And you can even get a concussion, although only those of us who earn our living above the waist, and not below, generally need concern ourselves with this one.
That's why we learn to protect ourselves when we fight, ok Jenny? We get started early, no later than high school. We learn that hands aren't just for offense, they're for defense, too--to block. To move your head when you fight, not to be a punching bag. To put your hair up, or at least braid it, if given the opportunity. To not have a hoodie that can be dragged over your face where you can't see. To take off your earrings. All of these are just the basics, but I question if they're familiar to you.
And then in college (or, in your case, trade school/secretarial school/massage therapy training, I suspect) and you enter the big leagues: barfights, 1:1 apartment fights, gym fights. Anywhere real women go to settle disputes.
And get that primal rush that even sex doesn't satisfy.
So, what WERE you doing with Chrissy? Well, I'll grant you that you two were establishing ground-rules and perhaps even a pecking order going forward. That's necessary and par for the course for any ex-wife/new-girlfriend relationship.
But don't kid youself. You still haven't fought, Jen. And it feels like I'm talking down to you, it's because I am. And will continue to do so. Unless and until you actually fight.
Be that Chrissy. Another woman. Or ..... me.
C'mon, Jen. C'mon TABSK.
Or..... can either of you not handle it?
xoxo,
Susan
Dear Susan--As a long-time reader, you're aware that TABSK has a long-standing rule for not being a venue for readers to arrange to bang it out with each other.
But..... all rules have exceptions, and this case is one of them.
If Jen agrees. Jen? TABSK