Gaye’s abrupt separation from her long term husband becomes all the more clearer after she learns from Natasha that Tom appears to have become romantically involved with a fellow co-worker, Tamara. Having never dealt with her in either a professional or personal capacity, Gaye knows little of the other woman, having to coax the location of her office from a reluctant Natasha. Furious, Gaye is determined to confront the woman she now views as the cause of her relationship implosion, perhaps naively assuming a few stern words might restore the status quo with Tom. Upon arriving at the spacious corner office, Gaye finds Tamara anything but compliant. A heated, petty exchange ensues as the insults fly, Gaye’s simmering rage only fanned by Tamara’s arrogant, nonchalant attitude to the whole affair. Emotions eventually spill over as a wild catfight erupts between a jilted wife and her husbands ‘mistress.’
Gaye, 48 years of age and 5’ ft 3” has on a super tight, maroon ribbed tank top, with close fitting black dress pants (wide black belt). On her feet, black patent pumps. Tamara, 44 years of age and 5’ ft 5” is wearing skinny black capri pants with snakeskin pumps. A long sleeve, dark olive chiffon blouse (v neck) is accompanied by a black blazer.
It had taken some serious convincing, and a promise of not to do anything rash, but Gaye had eventually coaxed the location of Tamara’s office out of Natasha. She could appreciate why Natasha had opted to withhold this sordid information from her, but non the less it still hurt. For the past few weeks, Gaye had been spilling her heart out after the breakdown of her marriage, the whole time Natasha had patiently and compassionately listened knowing that Tom had seemingly moved on.
“I think you just need to step back, take a breath and cool down. I’m not saying you shouldn’t confront her at some point, but remember, it takes two to tango.” Natasha had tried to council her, eluding to the fact that Tom was no innocent party in this potentially messy love triangle.
Gaye’s emotional roller coaster of the previous few weeks had new feelings to add to the usual sadness and despair - anger and humiliation.
Now, as far as she was concerned their was now only one person at fault here, and it wasn’t her or Tom. Her world had been turned upside down, the love of her life gone - manipulated and stolen from right under her nose, by a co-worker of all people. The brazen audacity of this hussy!
Gaye couldn’t and wasn’t going to let this abide. She needed to confront Tamara and let her know the damage she had caused. To demand she back off and allow her to rebuild her marriage.
As she strutted down the gray carpeted corridors of the administration building, hips violently jerking side to side, the focused stride of a woman on a mission, a cheerful, yet inquisitive voice called out from a doorway behind her.
“Gaye, what the hell are you doing all the way up here?”
Instantly snapping back out of her mind full of racing thoughts, Gaye stopped on a dime, spinning to face the familiar voice of Terry Adams, the Head of Middle School Curriculum.
Forcing a wide smile, she sauntered towards Terry, trying to mask the equal measure of adrenaline and anger that was surging through her.
“Hey Terry, I’m looking for Tamara’s office, am I near, it’s a complete maze up here.”
“Thought you must be lost, lucky I found you, your almost there, take a left up ahead, your royal highness is at the end of the hallway, big old corner office.” Terry Chuckled.
“Oh you’re a life-saver, thank you, got to run, don’t want to keep miss corner office waiting.”
“Sure thing.” Terry chirped, gawking at Gaye’s wide, voluptuous backside, the clear outline of her panty line mesmerizing him for a few brief seconds, “god damn, that ass.” He thought to himself.
Safely around the corner, she slowed as she approached the door. Tamara ******** - Dean of Teaching and Learning Innovation read the small sign by the door frame, the mere sight of the name only raising Gaye’s blood pressure. Unsure of what lay beyond, she took a long, deep breath as she clutched the door handle, glancing over her shoulder, “someone always see you,” she thought, though this time all appeared quite. The coast was clear.
“Let’s do this Gaye, you’ve got this.”
Barging through the doorway, entering the large, spacious office. Violently slamming the door behind her, the force and resounding bang startling not just her but Tamara, Seated at her large desk, engrossed in a full inbox of emails, their eyes met - Tamara’s facial expression an equal measure of confusion and disdain at the rude, and unexpected interruption.
The nerves that had plagued her during the walk here disappeared, with the site of Tamara seated in-front of her, unfettered rage took over.
“You home wrecking skank.” Gaye boisterously snapped, a slight quiver in her voice.
Obviously aware of who stood before her, Tamara put on a calm disposition, doing her utmost to conceal the fact her heart was racing, thoughts rushing through her head about what lay ahead.
Gently closing the lid on her laptop she leaned back in her chair, placing her black glasses on top of her head.
“Sorry, can I help you?” Tamara replied, pretending to act bemused.
“Oh spare me the whole ignorant act you conniving bitch.”
Not taking kindly to being called a bitch and skank within a matter of seconds, Tamara scoffed, biting her lip as she battled to keep her composure.
“What do you want Gaye?”
“Oh so you do know who I am…”
“Yeh I know who you are, and I’m struggling to grasp why you’ve barged on into my office unannounced calling me a skank.” Tamara snapped, cutting Gaye off.
“Its quite simple really, just here to let you know I’m not going to standby as you swoop on in and steal my husband from me…”
“Um I didn’t steal anyone.” Tamara interrupted, her voice now rising to match that of her furious guest.
“Don’t interrupt me again bitch, I’m not letting you do this, whatever you think you’ve got going on with Tom, its ending right now.” Gaye demanded, aggressively pointing her finger.
Bewildered, and her patience now gone Tamara fired back.
“Yeh no, this is my fucking office, I’ll speak when I want, BITCH, and no, my relationship with Tom isn’t ending now or anytime.”
The tension in the room was palpable, as Gaye came to the realization things weren’t unfolding quite as she had imagined.
“Stay the fuck away from him, you slut.” Gaye yelled, darting forwards towards the desk.
“No bitch, I know your just a fucking secretary so allow me to explain things to you in a way even you might be able comprehend. Tom and you are separated, I can appreciate this is humiliating for you, but its not my fault your not woman enough to hang onto your man.” Tamara matter of factually retorted, leaning forward in her chair to meet Gaye as she halted at the edge of her desk.
Stunned, Gaye threw her hands in the air, bewildered at the way things were playing out.
“That’s right, we are separated and trying to work through some issues. You swooping on in and manipulating him, taking advantage of the situation isn’t helping, so just fuck off!”
Tamara forced a laugh, “honey you are delusional, my god. Working through issues, please, fucking clueless. Tom’s moved on with me, get over it and move on yourself.”
“Fucking pathetic.” She hissed.
“Oh keep laughing you cxnt, its all a big joke, isn’t it?”
“Stupid bitch, I’m sorry but working through some issues, fucking incredible. You know Tom and I were working through some issues of our own last night, in his bed.” Tamara devilishly baited, cocking her head to the side, a bright grin filling her face.
“Or would that be your bed?”
Fists clenched and utterly incensed that this upstart cxnt was appearing to get the better of her, Gaye’s thoughts turned to violence, as an overpowering urge to grab Tamara by her messy bun and repeatedly smash her face into her desktop overcame her.
“You need to tread very carefully bitch.” Gaye ominously threatened.
“Or what exactly, what are you going to do about it?”
“You wanna fight fat bitch? Tamara sneered.
“Fuck off, get the fuck out, we are done here, doors right there.” Tamara impatiently yelled, pointing furiously.
“I’m not leaving. In fact I think I might come behind that desk and wipe that shit eating smirk off your slanty eyed face.” Gaye growled.
Somewhat thrown by the racial slur, Tamara scoffed loudly as she rose, removing her glasses and discarding her black blazer at her feet.
Gaye quickly glanced around the office, trying to get a better measure of the space as she turned purposefully striding for the door.
Tamara, slightly confused, froze, was she cutting tail and leaving, she thought.
The clicking of the lock on the door quickly dispelled that theory as Gaye stormed back towards the desk.
“I honestly never knew what Tom saw in you, from where I’m standing you’re a big set of tits with a fat ass, oh and a fucking racist.” Tamara carried on.
Clearly growing impatient with the back and forth, Gaye un-clipped her cell phone from the back of her belt, tossing it carelessly to the carpet behind her.
“Oh just fucking shut up, you slanty eyed, gook bitch!”
“A gook who has your man, my man, what are you going to do about it?” Tamara baited, arms extended, flaunting her hips.
“I’m not scared of you…” Gaye blurted out as she removed her gold, pearl drop earrings, shoving them in her pocket.
“I’m not scared of you either bitch.” Tamara stuttered back, as she to hurriedly fumbled to remove her large silver hoop earrings, slamming them shut in her desk drawer.
The tension in the office was unbearable, an awkward silent impasse ensued as they locked eyes, sizing the other up, butterflies in their stomachs as the enormity of the quickly escalating situation became clear.
“Last warning, get the fuck out bitch, or ill scratch your eyes out.” Tamara threatened, somehow managing to a make a seemingly preposterous threat appear ominous as she flashed a handful of long peach colored acrylic nails.
“That some kind of threat bitch, I’m going to rip your hair out.” Gaye snarled, holding her stubby middle finger aloft, showing off an equally sharp beige brown acrylic nail.
With a condescending eye roll from Tamara, all hell broke loose.
