The housewives of Atlanta landed in Cape Town with a heavy thud. That was the sound of all of their luggage hitting the tarmac. Hauling mass amounts of suitcases, trunks, and carry-ons, the bag ladies were well on their way to constructing a Louis Vuitton village in the south of Africa.
But, village, pillage, the Talls and the Smalls would be living in luxury for the first leg of the trip.
And Phaedra did not disappoint with her well-appointed accommodations. The luxe penthouse impressed all, except Marlo who soon aggravated the poor concierge with her demands to know the names of the housekeepers, what hours they kept, and if their backgrounds were as criminal as hers. She didn’t want her stolen goods stolen.
In addition to the staff of the cosmopolitan suite, Marlo also vexed her travel companions with her unsought etiquette advice: Pass the salt with the pepper, take a pinch of bread and just a dab of butter, cross your legs at your ankles, and when a lady slices another woman’s face she’s sure to do it from right to left.
As Sheree said, "I doubt very seriously that Emily Post has a chapter in her book on aggravated assault."
The women all wanted her to shut up, but she squawked endlessly until she finally blew up in Sheree’s face.
You see, Sheree has a fabulous friend who travels to South Africa quite frequently, and he was having a glorious party that Marlo was not welcomed to join. Sheree didn’t invite NeNe and Cynthia either, but that was to be expected as Cynthia goes wherever NeNe goes and Sheree wouldn’t ask NeNe to a fish fry.
NeNe was fine with not attending the party so the Talls had a dinner planned at Nobu. When the Smalls and Talls sat down for breakfast earlier in the day this was all understood even though Cynthia and Marlo weren’t thrilled about it.
All was well, until Sheree invited Cynthia -- deciding Cynthia might detach herself from NeNe’s hip and join the Smalls at the shindig. Cynthia, however, ran back to the Talls to tattle.
And with that, Marlo charged into Sheree’s room. Rage smoldering beneath her haughty façade, she demanded to know why she was not invited to the party of the century — it had to be, why else would her exclusion set off a deluge of unwarranted insults on Sheree.
“Go hang with the f****ts, you ugly stupid ass….” Marlo exclaimed as she let out a gay slur and a full throttle verbal massacre on Sheree’s friends, finances, and fine watches. “One Rolex, one Rolex, that’s exciting? One Rolex?”
It didn’t stop there. In fact, it didn’t stop at all. The tussle devolved into caustic barbs hurled back and forth until both Sheree and Marlo started mimicking each other in some strange high-pitched, hands to face, hyena giggle.
