Dear TABSK--Kathy, again. "Lady Katherine", with another dispatch from the front. You will recall that my neighbor and I were deeply entangled a siege/stalemate, whereby The Bitch and my husband were in a symbiotic panty-sharing relationship, whereby The Bitch has access to my boudiour without needing to so much as "lay her body on the line". [I had demonstrated the ability to bed HER husband--but only by pulling down my own pants in the process. SHE had achieved the neat trick of making MY man cum from the safety of her own castle.] My husband preferred sniffing panties to actual intercourse, and The Bitch enjoyed having her panties sniffed by a man more than actually "doing it" with him. They had found each other, and even worse, found each other through me. I was the connection in their half-sick, half-juvenile "relationship". It irked me to no end. Would it have "fizzled out" on its own? Possibly. Only to reignite in the future anytime my husband needed a "change of pace" or a mid-life "pick-me-up". I was becoming the Side Chick in my own marriage, and needed to make my stand. Siege warfare can get dirty, and I played dirty. At school registration earlier this week, in front of a small crowd of teachers, adminstrators, and other parents, I took a clear plastic bag of The Bitch's washed delicates, and ostentatiously handed them to her, saying, "I believe these are yours. I washed them for you." She reflexively blurted out a denial, to which I truthfully replied, "No, no, there's no mistake. These clearly have your initials. G--T--C." An initial, basic, "Why, thank you, Kathy,"; it would have defused my initial volley, and would have been the perfect volley to my thrust. But this option was no longer available to my rival, as half of my town's elementary school adult contingent was now drawn to the passive-aggressive confrontation in progress. "I'll take those," my antagonist hissed sarcastically into my face. "Any ... time," I hissed back, intentionally ambiguous as to whether it was an alternative form of "You're welcome," or an open-ended invitation to engage in some long overdue Open Combat. Since the unfortunate state of our nation has forced school adminstrators to become well-trained experts in conflict de-escalation, two of the alert one's immediately stepped forward, separated us, and the discreetly interrogated us as to whether "there was a problem, ladies," that needed attending to. We each denied it. But, of course, we were lying. There IS a problem. Hopefully it will get the attention it requires soon. Real soon. Kathy.
Dear Kathy--Wow. Intense. We at TABSK admire both GTC (Gloria Tina? Gina Theresa? Gillian Taylor?) and you in the gumption category. GTC, for burrowing herself so deeply into your household. And you, for sniffing out her "game" and calling her on it so persistently. You two women are certainly worthy opponents. We anxiously anticipate the outcome. TABSK
