[sinclairfan]

Dear TABSK--My name is Melanie.  I'm a 44 year old newly-separated (more on that later) blonde.  My husband is in local politics, so I've been spending the last 15 years sadly watching the polarization of our national, state, and local governments and legislative bodies.  And I've watched with anger as mediocre white male cisgendered politicians suck up air space from talented females and LGBTQ.  (I hated the Presidential debate antics from last night.)  Which makes my TABSK scenario doubly painful.  A 41 year old up and coming female in our county, Sienna, recently withdrew from a primary race upon threat of being outed for an affair with a married male politician. 

The married male politician in question was my husband.  He and I are in a trial separation, and he's already lawyering up, due to his inherited wealth.

I'm disappointed in him, but furious at Sienna.  Part of me already wants to have been up in her face, woman to woman, but I don't want to jeopardize my upcoming divorce proceedings, which appear headed to trial.

She and I are both athletic and are the same size and build.

TABSK, I know you can't give legal advice.  But which is causing me to lose more face--engaging with Sienna, or avoiding her?  Melanie


Dear Melanie--Not only do we not provide legal advice, but your story is missing a puzzle piece:  who outed Sienna and your hubby?  TABSK

[sinclairfan]

Dear TABSK--it's me, again.  Melanie.  Mad Melainie, the election season scandal Good Wife victim.  Or, at least, 20 years ago I would have been.  How times have changed.  TABSK, how could you?  I've been reading Things A Bitch Should Know since I was surreptitiously shown it on AOL at a high school slumber party in the 1990s.  You always supported your readers, and your writers, if they were in a beef with an adversery.  Me?  I get curt, blame-the-victim snark, as if I had written into Wired, or called into Rush Limbaugh.  Who outed Sienna and my husband??  Really??  Who cares?  They got caught.  And now I'm forced to share living quarters with the double-crosser, and listen to him Zoom with The Home Wrecker.  Well, today I couldn't take it anymore.  Sienna said a little too loud that she was at her aunt's house in North Attleboro.  I drove over, parked, and knocked on the door.  It was windy and ominously grey out.  Portentious, strangely.  She answered, and knew right away who I was and why I was there, and that my clothes were fight clothes. She was in pajamas. She motioned me in.  I felt like being home alone with a boy, unsupervised, after high school.  Naughty.  And frisky.  We agreed there was nothing worth talking about.  We went to a den/office, and got in each others' face.  And we pulled hair as hard as we could, each trying to throw the other, as if it was some sort of 1990s self-defense drill.  We called each other by name, followed by "bitch".
Melanie Bitch.
Sienna Bitch.
Melanie Bitch.
Sienna Bitch.
Over and over, angrier and angrier.
I didn't want a middle school hair pull at age 44, but was in one, and didn't know how to get out of it.
Seconds turned into minutes.  More hairpulling, more name celling.  Out fingers twisted deeper into each others' hair, and started tearing it out in clumps. 
Then, the power went out.  Branches were banging the walls.  I started wondering if Sienna's great aunt was home--if she would call the cops--what that would do to my divorce case.
Sienna and I fell over an Ottoman and lost our grip on each others's scalp.
I had an unimpeded path to the front door, and struggled my way there.  I half wanted Sienna to tackle me from behind, to start Round 2 of our fight.
She didn't.
I got out, found my car, and drove home.
Neither she nor my husband have mentioned our fight.
TABSK:  will they?  Melanie

Desr Melanie:  Ya .... so, umm, ....  who outed your husband and Sienna?  TABSK