I have been cooped up in this apartment for five days. Sofia is recovering from a concussion, which means she needs to be monitored. “Brain Rest” is the name of the game. A name that I did not choose by the way. How does one rest their brain you may ask? I will tell you.

No t.v
No gaming
No bright lights
No running
No loud noises

Do you guys know how hard it is to keep a 10-year-old on “Brain Rest?” Imagine trying to put your cat on “Brain Rest.” One in the same.

Of course, I have left the apartment to take Gracie to school, run to the grocery store, and follow up Dr appointments, but those do not count. Something always comes up. Last night I had a meeting at school. Hell has apparently frozen over, and I am a “Parent Facilitator.” Like seriously, I cannot even facilitate my own life, but yeah, I got this! Sure enough, I get the call from Joe “Sofia woke up, she is crying because her head hurts. What do I do” It took me ten minutes on text to explain to him what he should do. That’s about nine minutes too long.

Jen~ “Give her 10 ml of Motrin”
Joe~ “What is ml?”
Jen~ “milliliter”
Joe~ “I do not know what that means”
Jen~ “It’s right there on the medicine cup!”
Joe~ “What is the medicine cup? I can’t use a spoon?”

Speaking of Joe. Perhaps it is because I have cabin fever, perhaps it is the vodka. I have noticed over these last five days, there are two sides to Joe. Now don’t get me wrong. Any long-time readers of this blog, you guys know I have about ten different sides to me. Some (most) of them not so pretty. (Insert link to my one post where I was threatened to be sued.) Thankfully, Joe has only seen one side of my “crazy.” (And we will keep it that way! Stewart, I am talking to you.)

On one hand, you have the amazing dad, the amazing husband, who will always do what needs to be done. He will sit up with Sofia and rub her head as she is dealing with excruciating headaches in the middle of the ER while I fight with the intake nurse on “What the hell is taking so long, my daughter is in pain?!”

At the end of his twelve-hour shift, Joe has no problem picking up cat food, waiting in a long line trying to avoid his boss, yet working off the clock if need be, all because I could not remember to pick up cat food.

Now, his “other” side is…how shall I say this? Annoying. Yes, that’s a good word. I mean I think he was seriously arguing with one of our cats about forty-five minutes ago. Apparently, the cat accidentally peed on something he should not have peed on, and I guess that “something” was Joe’s sleeping blanket. However, arguing with the cat? Really? I mean was he expecting a two-way conversation?

Joe~ “You bastard, the litter box is right fucking there!”
Cat~ “And?”
Joe~ “Asshole, now I have to do laundry!”
Cat~ “And?”

(Love you, Babe!)

I have no idea how this conversation ended. I stepped outside because I had an emergency, and by emergency I mean I had to help Christin pick out an outfit.

Oh, I am not even close to finishing. I pick Gracie up from school.

Gracie~ “What does it mean when your throat hurts?”
Me~ “Oh for the love of God, does your throat hurt?!”
Gracie~ “Yes.”
Me~ “Well, it probably means you are catching a cold.”

Gracie and I come home. Naturally, she has a fever. I break out the Motrin and the medicine cup (not a spoon). Give her a dose, plenty of liquids and send her to bed. Joe comes home.

Joe~ “Gracie looks bad, I think she is getting sick.”
Me~ “YOU THINK?”

You guys, I am losing it over here.

Joe is hardcore when the kids are sick. He is very adamant that the kids do not go to school if they even have a sniffle. When we were in the waiting room of the ER with Sofia, “Goodmorning America” did a news story on all the flu deaths this year, well, Joe just upped his hardcore-ness.

The other night, everyone was sleeping. Everyone except me. In the last five days, I probably had a total of eight hours of sleep. All of a sudden Joe’s phone notifications went off. Just like any good wife, I grabbed his phone to check out what was going on. Nothing exciting. Just email notifications. So I am sitting there, playing with his phone and thought I would have some fun. I changed my name in his phone from “Jen” to “Hot Wife” pretty confident he would not notice.

The following morning at 9:00am I get a text from him.

Joe~ “Hot Wife huh? I like it, and it’s true.”

I was laying on the sofa watching old episodes of “Friends” eating M&M’s for breakfast. I never even showered that night because….kids.

Crap. Now I need to get up, jump in the shower and try to play off that I am indeed a “Hot Wife.

I will let you know when I accomplish that.

If there is a plus side to me being cooped up in the apartment for five days straight, I believe I lost a few pounds. My “fat jeans” which were previously tight on me, are now a bit loose. However, it could very well be from me not washing them in, oh, I don’t know, five days?!

Also, if I am indeed losing weight, it is in my ass.  I do not want to lose weight in my ass! I want to lose weight everywhere else, but please for the love of God,  let me keep the boobs and ass. One of my biggest fears (unrational as it may be) is having a pancake ass. So now, I have to up my “squat game.” (Because I do not have enough to do.) Also, I cannot talk about my ass because my father reads this blog. (Shout out to Dad!)

On Monday, I lost a friend of mine. She passed away from what we think is the flu. (Another example of why Joe is so hardcore about the kids and school.) However, because I have too much damn time on my hands, I find myself questioning the events of her passing. In a brief moment of weakness, I actually contemplated calling the police today to see if they were going to investigate. I know, I know, don’t worry, it was just a very brief moment of weakness. I am telling you, I am losing it.

I was talking to my sister on the phone. Because my phone is possessed, the only place I can talk to her without losing connection is out on the balcony. We get off the phone, I slip my phone in my jacket pocket. I come inside and go to the restroom. I have no idea how this happened, but, as I was taking the phone out of my pocket to use the restroom I somehow video called my sister as I was in the process of, you know, using the restroom. Kill me now! Plus side, it was my sister and not any of the teachers at my daughter’s school.

My apartment has never been cleaner, I have binge-watched “Friends” and “Parenthood.” Most likely CSI is next because you know (refer to the previous paragraph.) I just have no idea what to do with the kids. I love having the flexibility of staying at home. I am grateful for the fact that I can be here for them, but it’s not always easy. I put so much into making sure my children are okay, as I should, but I am sorta kinda losing myself in the process.

Almost finished.

Tonight, I found myself on Petfinder. Not for me mind you, for my family…..in Texas…..who I feel desperately needs a dog. I found one too. Bella, an adorable special needs puppy who was born during Hurricane Harvey. And, because I am me, I am already attached to Bella. So, if my parents do not adopt her (Dad, I am talking to you!) I will be crushed. So, can we please make this happen. #DoItForBella

What has become of me?!?!?!

Cabin fever.

We will chalk it up to cabin fever.

Or….

Vodka.

 

 

City by the Bay (Part 1)

City by the Bay (Part 2)

City by the Bay (Part 3)

 

Sarah: 2018

“Get your ass in,” Allie ordered from inside the car.

I hopped in the SUV while noticing soccer balls and a myriad of kids’ stuff in the back.

“Don’t mind the mess. The kids think the car is their personal trash can.”

My car looked about the same, and I didn’t have anyone to blame.

“So, where are we going first?” I asked, handing Allie a fresh cup of coffee.

“To the apartment.”

The apartment. The place where I found my freedom. So many memories in that apartment.

Originally, Allie had lived here with her two cats until the night that changed everything.

This apartment had saved my life in some sense. Allie was a catalyst to everything. Without her, I might be…well, I didn’t want to think about that.

Fifteen minutes later we pulled up to the large grey apartment complex.

“Here we are,” Allie said.

Side by side we made our way to Apt A-6.

“We should knock and see if they will let us look around…you know for old times sake,” Allie said, going towards the door.

“God, no Allie we can’t!” I said, grabbing her arm.

“Why not, Sar? It’s worth a shot.”

Just then a woman came out of the adjacent apartment.

“Can I help you with something?” she asked, looking at us suspiciously.

“Oh hi, we used to live here about 15 years ago and came back just to see the place,” I said, holding out my hand. “I’m Sarah and this is my friend, Allie.”

Sarah and Allie? I remember you guys! It’s me…Chantelle.”

“Channie?! I didn’t recognize you with the blond hair!” Allie exclaimed, hugging Chantelle.

“Wait, are you and Danielle still together?” I asked.

“God, Sar, can you fucking wait to do your interrogations?” Allie

“Hell no!” Chantelle said, that bitch cheated, and I kicked her ass the curb.

“I always thought she was trouble,” Allie said, looking from me to Chantelle.

“Girl, you have no idea. Well, you guys want to come in? I have vodkaaaaa.”

Just like these old, broken down apartments, some things never change.

I followed Allie and Chantelle in, shutting the door behind me.

An hour later, Allie had way too much to drink as she staggered towards her car.

“No, you are not okay to drive, Allie. Give me the damn keys.”

“You’re right,” she said, throwing them my direction.

“Where to now?” I asked as Allie fumbled with her seatbelt.

“Are you sure you’re up to it?”

“Yeah, the kids are with my mom for the night. “The Husband” is away on business. So, I have nothing but time. So, drive bitch.”

I put the car in drive, hopping on the freeway.

“Oh my God! I love this song! Remember this sooooong?” Allie screeched turning the volume up.

I heard you’re doing okay
But I want you to know
I’m addic- I’m addicted to you
I can’t pretend I don’t care
When you don’t think about me
Do you think I deserve this?
I tried to make you happy
But you left anyway

How could I have forgotten this song? It hit the airwaves when everything was going down with him. Eric.

I’m trying to forget that
I’m addicted to you
But I want it and I need it
I’m addicted to you
Now it’s over, can’t forget what you said
And I never, want to do this again
Heart breaker, heart breaker, heart breaker

The hospital. Broken stuff in the apartment. DeAndre, Johnny, and Allie. It was all a blur.

Since the day I met you
And after all, we’ve been through
I’m still a dick, I’m addicted to you
I think you know that it’s true
I’d run a thousand miles to get you
Do you think I deserve this
I tried to make you happy
I did all that I could
Just to keep you
But you left anyway

He just wouldn’t stop. No matter what I did, it still wasn’t enough. I fucking tried.

I’m trying to forget that
I’m addicted to you
But I want it and I need it
I’m addicted to you
Now it’s over, can’t forget what you said
And I never, want to do this again
Heart breaker, heart breaker

How long will I be waiting?
Until the end of time
I don’t know why I’m still waiting
I can’t make you mine

After all was said and done, I just wanted to forget him. Pretending to forget was easy, seeing him beg, plead, and cry wanting me to take him back after that night, was so very hard.

I’m trying to forget that
I’m addicted to you
But I want it and I need it
I’m addicted to you

I’m trying to forget that
I’m addicted to you
But I want it and I need it
I’m addicted to you
Now it’s over, can’t forget what you said
And I never, want to do this again
Heartbreaker

I’m addicted to you, heartbreaker

“What are we doing here?” Allie asked with a half of a burger hanging out of her mouth.

She insisted we stop at Jack-in-the-Box, where she drunkenly ordered 2 #1’s and a chocolate shake.

“Sar, why are we at a park in the middle of the night?”

“First of all, it’s not the middle of the night. 2^nd of all it’s not technically a park. It’s a Japanese Garden.”

“And why are we here?” She asked, slurping her shake.

Ignoring her question and the mayo on her cheek, I opened the door and started walking. It was dark, but the warm breeze was consoling. Crossing over the small walkway that bridged over the koi fish pond, I found myself walking a path, the path straight into my past.

“I’ve got something for you,” he said, pulling a small box from his pocket.

I leaned against the oak tree as he came closer to me.

“I know it’s not much.”

I looked down at my finger.

 This would change everything. I just couldn’t let him find out.

 

“Sarah! Sarah!” Allie was screaming in the distance.

I stood up, bracing myself against the oak tree, trying to find the path.

“I’m over here!” I yelled back, trying to see through the black of the night.

“Sarah, your phone!”

“I don’t have my phone, I left in the car.”

“No, I have your phone. He called Sar.”

“What are you talking about Al? Your drunk. Let’s go back to the c–.”

“Sarah, Stop! He called! He left you a message! Listen!!” she yelled as she threw the phone at my face.

“How do you know he called?”

“Sar, you had the number saved in the phone as D.S. I’m not an idiot. I might be a little tipsy, but I know who D.S. is.”

“Shit. What do I do?”

“Duh, you listen to the fucking message.”

I took the phone from her hand.

You have one missed message.

“Hi Sarah, I got your message. I really want to connect with you before you leave town. Please call as soon as you get this. We have so much to catch up on.”

He sounded the same. How can so much time pass but still person’s voice can make you feel like you are 21 again?

There was only one thing to do.

“Allie, we need to go. I need a drink.”

“I have the perfect place,” Sarah said, jumping into the passenger seat.

This night would be full of more than one surprise.

 

Allie: 2003

Of course, I was running late. Thirty minutes late to be exact. I knew Johnny would give me hell. I also knew I did not give a shit. My cats, my beloved babies, (because God knows I am not going to have the human kind,) Daniel and Johhny, a tribute to one of my all-time favorite movies, “Karate Kid” well, they were not doing too good. Just like the movie, my Daniel and Johnny did not get along. Something happened that involved a roll of toilet paper. Daniel was throwing up, while I swear to effing God Johnny was sitting in the corner laughing. Bastards. So, I was late and I make no apologies.

I decided to sneak in the back door. Hoping that I could play off that I had been at the bar all along.

“Oh, look who decided to join us.”

Well, there goes that plan.

I looked at Johnny who had his hands full of papers.

“It was not my fault!”

“Which one this time?” He said as he motioned for me to grab the coffee pot.

“Both. The toilet paper.” I grabbed the pot and two mugs and followed Johhny.

“Really Al, again with the toilet paper? Grab two more.”

“Is Sarah here?”

“I told you, you should have gotten a dog.”

I followed Johnny out to the bar area. We weren’t open yet, still had plenty of prep work to do.

“Hey Allie, you remember DeAndre, DeAndre, you remember my friend Allie?”

There at the bar sat Allie. DeAndre, who I mistakenly referred to as “Black Guy” a few days ago was standing next to Allie, as Jonny motioned for me to pass out the mugs for the coffee.

“Oh, it’s you. What’s happening here? Clearly, I was left out of the loop.” I said as I gave Johnny a sly glare.

“If you ever check your machine instead of worrying about your cats eating toilet paper, then you would know. He is here for the job.”

“The bouncer opening?”

“Allie, you had such a great idea. You were right, DeAndre would be the perfect addition, and so now here we all are, and I think we can put aside any hard feelings and maybe just see where this goes.”

Leave it to Sarah to put her Marry Poppins spin on it.

“Yeah, Bro, everything looks good, we are pretty laid back here, just fill this out and you can start tonight, does 9 work for you?”

Jesus, even Johnny was on board?

“Are they inside or outside?” DeAndre was addressing me as I was taking a sip of the room temperature coffee.

“Umm, what?” I asked in confusion. Was he talking to me? Is there an inside joke that I do not know about?

“Your cats, inside or outside?”

I set my coffee down, as I looked at Johnny, then at Sarah for some sort of clue to what was happening.

“You see, when you were late Boss Man here explained that you probably have some sort of issues with your cats. Being that I have a one myself, I think I can help you out.”

“DeAndre, I think Allie has the cat situation under control, it’s so nice of you to offer to help, isn’t it Allie?”

“I need a beer.” Exclaimed Johnny, as he knew I was going to lay into him when we were alone.

“Inside of course. Why would anyone let their cats outside, and more importantly what is it to you?”

“Dry food or wet?”

Is this guy serious now? The fact that Johnny and Sarah exchanged nervous glances did not escape me.

“Dry food.”

“Yeah, see, that’s your problem. Inside cats need a mix of wet and dry. Maybe even a little catnip as well. And you know, put the toilet paper roll where they cannot get to it.”

“Ah, what a novel idea. Put the toilet paper out of reach. I wish I thought of that sooner. I live in a piece of shit apartment. There is barely enough room for the damn toilet. No place for the toilet paper and why am I even talking about this?”

I grabbed Johnny’s beer as Sarah started cleaning up.

“Allie, start prepping, Sar and D, you have two hours to kill, be back here by 9.”

“What do you mean a mix of dry and wet?” I mean really, what do I have to lose at this point?

“When you have cats strictly on a dry food diet, they get thirsty. Wet food has water.”

Johnny and Sarah made a quick exit.

“Yeah…..”

“So what probably happened is your cats were thirsty, tried to get something to drink from the toilet and got distracted by the toilet paper. If you leave them a can of wet food, that takes care of their water intake and they would never make it to the bathroom, alibi toilet paper.”

I had to think about this for a moment.

“I mean no offense or anything, I am sure you leave water out for them…” Oh great, there was more.

“But if they are anything like mine, they use the water dish more as a play toy, and never get their daily water intake because they flip the dish over. Wet food fixes that.”

‘Johnny, pour me a double!” Where the hell did Johnny disappear to?

“Yeah, not bad advice from a black guy, huh?”

“Now!”

“Just trying to help. So, if we are done here, I will be back later tonight.”

“Thank you, DeAndre!”

“Sounds good Bro!”

Now they make an appearance?!

DeAndre shook Johnny’s hand as he made his way to the front door. Sarah was grabbing her purse. I can only assume she was going home to change.

“Wait!”

The words escaped my mouth.

DeAndre turned around as a nervous Sarah and Johnny stood there in silence.

“You said you have a cat?”

“I do. A pure white Manx. Her name is Bella. Imagine that, a black guy with a white cat.”

Yep, we are still on this I see.

“Bella? Bella means “beautiful” in Italian.”

DeAndre reached the front door, slowly he turned around, gave me a wink. “I know, that is why I named her Bella.”

…

Three hours later we were packed. Jeremy was busting out orders left and right, Johnny was working the bar like a pro. DeAndre took his place at the front door, checking ID’s while making sure no one got out of control, and I, well I was doing everything else. Where the hell was Sarah??

“Al, call Sarah again. We need her!”

“No shit John, I tried her three times already. I need my rum and cokes.”

The next thirty minutes was a chaotic mess. We were one girl down. The bar was packed. Very unusual for a Wednesday night.

Roger McGuinn was playing on the sound system. “King of the Hill”

“L.A.’s asleep – you roll up your window
The night air is cold – the freeway is clear
In a green Gucci bag – are you prized possessions
The jewels of your mind – to hold back the fear”

As I was delivering a platter of tenders I notice Sarah walks in.

“Okay enjoy, let me know if you need a refill.”

DeAndre had his hand on Sarah’s arm.

“And when Monday comes round – there’s a high lonesome sound
And she follows you down for the kill
And a while blinding light – makes it all seem so right
And you feel like the king of the hill”

Sarah and DeAndre were having some sort of exchange.

“Johnny, she’s here.”

“Get her apron, I am slammed.”

“The driveway is long – your princess is lovely
Your servants all wait – for your knock on the door
How many years – will you crawl through this castle
So satisfied – and still wanting more”

DeAndre opened the front door while Sarah made eye contact with me. I made my way towards Sarah.

“Where were you?”

“And when Monday comes round – there’s a high lonesome sound
And she follows you down for the kill
And a while blinding light – makes it all seem so right
And you feel like the king of the hill”

“Sorry, Al, I’ll get to work.”

“What the fuck happened to your face?”

I looked at Sarah. I looked at DeAndre who at this point came in and shut the front door. I turned to look at Johnny who was behind the bar giving me a look.

“The guests have arrived – with all the right faces
But you miss the ball – in that room down the hall
It’s sunrise again – the driveway is empty
The crystal is cracked – there’s blood on the wall”

“Oh it’s nothing, I fell, you guys are busy!”

I slammed my try down on an innocent bystander table, making my way to DeAndre.

“What the hell is going on?”

DeAndre was looking past me. He eyes were focussed on Sarah.

“She has a black eye. Claims she ran into a wall.”

“And when Monday comes round – there’s a high lonesome sound
And she follows you down for the kill
And a while blinding light – makes it all seem so right
And you feel like the king of the hill”

“Yeah, ran into a wall my ass. Who dropped her off?”

“Not sure, give me time, I will find out. After all, that’s what you pay me for.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Things have been a little bit crazy over here in my Vodka Calling household. Late Thursday night-early Friday morning Sofia wakes up in excruciating pain and a very high fever. Immediately I have flashbacks from last February when Gracie had her first seizure in the early morning hours.

While Joe and I were trying to take care of Sofia, taking her temperature, asking her questions, “What’s wrong?” “Where does it hurt?” “Tell me everything that happened!” It is then that my little Minnie-Me decided to tell us that she hit her head on the playground at school….. and did not tell anyone.

Immediately Joe and I somehow worked together in a moment of weakness. I wake up the boys, Joe get’s Sofia her shoes, I call my sister because that is just what I do. “Vinnie, we have to take Sofia to the ER, something is wrong, watch Gracie!” Everyone fell into their specific job duty and off Joe, Sofia, and I went to St Francis hospital, which is literally three minutes up the road.

Long story short, Sofia has a concussion. I have no idea why she did not feel the need to tell anyone at the school. I mean if you consider the fact that I myself am at the school every-single-day, I am completely lost on why she did not say a word. Not a word to her teacher, not a word to “a safe adult” not a word to anyone, including me. However, knowing Sofia the way I do, I will put money on the fact that she was afraid she would get in trouble.

Almost 36 hours later, Sofia still has some pretty bad pain, so off we go first thing in the morning to the Doctor.

Today was Vinnie’s birthday. Seventeen years old. I have no idea where the time goes.

January 28th, 2001.

I was alone in the hospital when I had him. I had two friends from work who came shortly after I had him, but for the birth, it was just me, my good ole Doctor, the same Doctor who four years later would literally save Gracie’s life, and my labor and delivery nurse.

It’s funny how memories work. I could have sworn my beloved NY GIANTS were in a playoff game against the Vikings the day I had him.  Maybe it was the drugs, but I was way off. Apparently, my beloved NY GIANTS were in the freakin Superbowl against the Ravens.

Superbowl

I remember thinking “How cool would it be to have my baby born on the day the GIANTS win!”

Well, that did not happen. 34-7 Ravens.

Vinnie had a rough start in life due to some pretty bad choices on my part. I missed about four months of his life because his psycho sperm donor kidnapped him. I swear to God if I could dance on the Bastards grave, I would.

Vinnie was a pretty good baby. When he was finally returned to me, he was skin and bones, dehydrated. We fixed that real quick. Before I knew it I had a little chubby toddler with a head full of curly hair walking around getting into whatever mischief he could.

In elementary school, he was always the class clown. I cannot tell you how many times I got calls from his teachers. I was now on a first name basis with the principal.

When middle school came around, he was all about football. Vinnie is one of those people who does not have a favorite team, he just loves the game and the logistics behind it. He came name you any player, their stats and when they were picked up.

Out of all of my five children (One in heaven, most likely counting her blessings that she dodged this bullet), Vinnie is so much like me. Both Vinnie and I have to have the last word and we will fight tooth and nail to have it. The difference is, Vinnie knows how to apologize. He knows when to say “Mom, Dad, I was wrong and I am sorry.” Me, I am still working on that one.

Vinnie has an incredible love for animals. Half of our cats came from Vinnie rescuing them all, and between you and I, I would not have it any other way. Over the years we have lost too many cats, and you know something, Vinnie was there all the way. While Joe and I were a complete mess, it was Vinnie who was down on the floor, wrapping his arms around our cats, wanting to make sure when they left this life, they did not leave it alone.

I love this kid.

I volunteer in a 3rd-grade classroom. In this class, there is one very challenging little boy. He made the comment to me the other day “I love my mom, I would die for her if I had to.” The teacher, not missing a beat, said to this little boy “Have you ever told your mom that?” The little boy looks a bit embarrassed, puts his head down and tells the teacher “No, I have not told her that.” The teacher then tells the little boy “Well, I know your mom would never want you to die for her, but I am sure she would love to hear that.” There was something about that conversation exchange that struck a chord with me. I sat there, listened while making sure I did not cry. Apparently, I am a crier now, these 3rd graders know how to bring out all the feels in me. In a different time, that challenging little boy could have been Vinnie.

We all know I have made a lot of mistakes in this whole parenting thing. Yet, somehow, my kids, all of them, they have each taught me a thing or two over the years.

My hope is seventeen years from now, when Vinnie is thirty-four years old, hopefully working with our at-risk youth kids, he will come across this blog and realize, just like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, he had the power all along.

 

 

 

 

Attention : Lisa Stewart (Allegedly)

Here we go again…The Idiot Part 2 (Allegedly)

 

It’s like that old movie “Groundhog Day” on Facebook. Today, I was directed to a public post about me, written by the son of the one who I refer to as “The Idiot.” To get caught up, read the links above.

So…here is what I did for their viewing pleasure. I know “The Idiot” and her son are reading here. I can see all the “clicks” from my Stats page. Thank you guys!!! I did a good ol copy/paste of his text, I provided screen shots, and then I made corrections…in my favorite red pen.

Enjoy!

“I normally don’t involve myself into the petty Facebook drama that certain people like to get into on here, but when my mother is called “trailer trash” and “bitch” and this same woman makes a demeaning photo of her, I just can’t keep silent.” Oh, this should be fun! In case you were not told the truth, it was your very own mother who made a public post about my family member. If your mother cannot take the heat, then perhaps she should keep her mouth shut?

“What is wrong with you, you should be ashamed of yourself, we all get you were angry you didn’t get to go to your sister’s birthday party. Do you honestly expect anyone to believe that you would have left your daughter who at the time was in fact having seizures that you had no clue as to why, to fly to the other side of the country for a birthday party.” Once again (seems to be a running theme) you were not gifted with all the facts. I was planning a trip in March (the very same month I was purposefully excluded from the invite) to go visit my brother in Texas. Believe it or not, my husband is fully capable of taking care of our daughter for three days. Had your mother cared enough, or at least had the common sense enough to ASK and not assume, arrangements would had been made to go surprise my sister for her 40th birthday party. Once it was disclosed that YOUR mother felt the need to not invite myself or my brother, I had another family member reach out to me, and offered me airline miles just so I could make it. We all knew it would had been the surprise of a lifetime, as my very own sister was scanning the room hoping I was there. Sadly, there are a lot of rules when it comes to using the miles, and I could not make it happen. The sad fact is your mother did not want me there, because my presence would have taken away from her “glory.” This is not just my opinion, but the opinion of others as well. Think about that. Are we all wrong, or is it possible there is some kind of truth to that? “Lets not forget that your own niece also planned out this party and didn’t feel the need to invite you, but yet you don’t call her “trailer trash” and “bitch” because like my mother, she is a wonderful human being who was trying to do something nice for her mother, but you had to make it all about you. I know I was there, I saw the video you posted making your kids say thank
you for not inviting you, how vain do you have to be.” So, do you think it is possible you are really reaching here? My niece and I had a private phone conversation about it all. Something that if your mother had made an effort to do, then perhaps we would not be in this situation now. Also, the fact that your mother and even yourself are trying to discreetly throw my niece under the bus, that does not escape me. We see what you guys are doing. It’s not working. I do not think me posting the video makes me “vain.” That’s the wrong word, and again, you are making assumptions of a situation that you do not have the full story to. Please, if at any time you would like to private message me, I would love to chat.

 

In case you missed it.

Start here for the backstory.  Good vs Evil

And then go to Attention: Lisa Stewart (Allegedly)

The Idiot tried to get THIS post deleted from Facebook. Is she really that dumb? All the views are coming from Google or organic clicks. Geez, it is like I am dealing with a five-year-old.

Then the Idiot thought she would be slick, and wrote a Facebook post about me.

Now, I will say The Idiot had enough sense to block my own family from seeing it, yet, I still have a copy of her rant. I will save on to it for when I need to break out my “red pen” and correct the whole damn thing.

In her post, she is pretty much begging her “friends” to come in and validate her. “No, Lisa, you are not crazy.” “You are the sweetest person I know!” “Who would say such a thing?”

*raises hand.*

I am just curious when the last time these so-called “friends” actually hung out with the Idiot. I mean does highschool even count? I am not the same person I was a year ago, much less twenty plus years ago. I am pretty confident if these people spent an entire day with her, I would be getting messages, something along the lines of “Girl…you were right about this one!”

Not to mention her own damn family wants nothing to do with her. Coincidence? I think not!

There are many theories out there on why the Idiot is the way she is. Hell, I could give you about three right now. Bottom line is (in my opinion) it all stems from jealousy. The Idiot needs attention, she thrives on feeling wanted and needed, she needs to be validated because something is missing in her life….and I am not just talking about sanity.

So, for my closing words, I would like to address the Idiot, and I will try my hardest to refrain from using words like “Bitch” “Trailer Trash” things like that. I will truly work on my adjectives.  (To the Idiot: an “adjective” in layman’s terms, is a descriptive word. For example, if someone were to call you a “Crazy Bitch” crazy is the adjective. Got it?)

Look. We all have flaws. Every one of us has many. I think at this point we all know one of my biggest flaws is my temper. When I get mad, I go in and I go in hard. When I feel you are hurting my family, there is no stopping me.

I feel you (The Idiot) are calculating. I feel every move you make is already planned. I feel you know how to say and do “just the right things” to get some people to feel sorry for you. You enjoy playing the victim. Well, I am on to you. I do not care how many posts you post about me (and trust when I say I know all about them) YOU ARE NOT THE VICTIM.

Just own it. For once in your life admit you were wrong. For the love of all that is holy, is it really that hard to send a private message? ” Hey, Mrs. ______. I would like to talk to you about a comment you left on Facebook, it rubbed me the wrong way and I would like to talk about it so there are no hard feelings.”

OR…

“Jennifer and Anthony, I would like to formally apologize to both of you for not inviting you to your sister’s 40th surprise party. I made assumptions I had no right to make, I took away from both of you any chance you may have had of you being able to make it, and for that, I am sorry.”

I mean what am I missing here?

It’s really not that hard.

What you DON’T DO is make a public post. What you DON’T do is use my daughter as an excuse for not inviting me. This is what you do not do.

You have been exposed for the manipulator you are (allegedly.)

Whatever you say from this point forward is a reflection of who you are, not who you think I am. At the end of the day, I still have my family, who you pathetically tried to turn against me. (Do you not know this family, we are bonded in ways that you will never be able to understand)

And at the end of it all, what do you have?

Absolutely nothing.

(Allegedly.)

 

 

 

 

Update Part 2: I had the pleasure of speaking to Lisa’s son tonight on private message. I met him when he was, five, maybe six years old? We both had our say, we both agreed to move on. So…..out of respect to him and only him, I made a few changes to my original post. I took out the name calling, and I changed the picture….because really at the end of the day, I am better than that. My feelings are still 100 true….I just need to learn to express them in a way where I do not name call.

Update: It seems that once Ms. Stewart got wind of this post, she took down her very public post on Facebook….as she should. Because of that, I am making a few updates that you will find in red.

“Please feel free to comment or share, because I just don’t give a shit!”

Lisa Stewart.

(Important to note the above was a direct quote from Ms. Stewart. She has now changed her settings. Good thing I still have screenshots.)

Okay, so there ya go. You do not “give a shit” well, neither do I.

Public post on Facebook about my family. You can read it Here (I originally had her Facebook link here. Since she changed the settings, the link no longer works)

(or scroll down, I have the screenshot)

Backstory: Good VS Evil 

Now, for those of you who do not want to click the above link to read the backstory, I do not blame you. Here are the cliff notes.

Lisa Stewart (Again, link will no longer work)

My sister and I met Lisa when we were in our early twenties.

Lisa turned into a crazy controlling person (In my opinion.) (Turns out, after this post made the rounds, a few people came out of the woodwork to back this up. I am not the only one affected by the manipulation of one Ms. Stewart)

Lisa is jealous of the relationship my sister and I have. (Allegedly)

And now you are caught up.

I mean, there is so much more to it…so grab a drink.

(Important to note, I have emails where Lisa was clearly trying to pin me against my sister, stating that my Dad like me better.)

Last year, Lisa planned a surprise 40th Bday party for my sister. Except, Lisa did not feel the need to invite the siblings (my brother or I) because Lisa had ulterior motives (again, my opinion….as well as a few others) My brother and I were dumbfounded when we realized we were not invited. My brother, who is protecting her, my brother who is protecting us all,  on deployment.

Time goes on, Lisa and I block each other on social media. It’s a done deal, there is no hope for us. We will never agree, and to be honest, both of us are toxic to the other. (Pretty powerful line if I do say so myself.)

Everything was fine. Ten months pass…..and then tonight.

Lisa makes it personal by calling out MY family member in a public Facebook post.

Now, aside from the fact, that Lisa has the nerve to mention my daughter and her seizures, I am pissed. Kids are off limits. You know nothing about my daughter or her medical conditions. I better not ever hear you mention any of my kids from your mouth. Worry about cutting the cord from your 25-year-old son who still feels the need to ask you if he can have a drink, perhaps, you do not call your own son out on Facebook calling him an “idiot” and “moron” for having different political beliefs than you do. That’s right sweetheart, we all see it and we are all talking about it.

Back to the original post…

“We then assumed.” (Don’t worry, screenshot is coming up)
“I assumed.”

Umm. Perhaps that is the problem? Maybe, just thinking outside of the box, maybe that is where you went wrong? In your own words…“I assumed.”

You can take your assumptions and well, you know how that sentence ends.

Now….to move on, regarding one of your crazy comments on your original post. I hope to God you are not referring to the Ortolano family when you say “#FamilyStrong.” You know that is a catchphrase of ours, and for you to use it in the context you did, I cannot help but wonder are you jealous? Are you jealous of our family, and the bond that we share? Are you butthurt because your childhood friend is now friends with me on Facebook, and we talk?? And she confirms everything I already knew? Do not EVER mention MY family. Be a woman, let’s go toe-to-toe. Let’s have a conversation, do not take the easy way out and use MY family as a defense…Honey, you will not win.

I will close with this…..I wish I could be a bigger person. I look at my mentor and I know he is cringing. I know my sister, my niece, even the one you hurt in your rant, they are all cringing at this post……but here is the thing, I will always stand up for what I believe in, right or wrong. That is all I have my voice, and Lisa, you crossed the line. Shots fired.

P.S

The 1980’s called, they want their hairstyle back.

(Originally, I had her untouched picture up. Since she has since changed the privacy settings, I changed a few things to the original picture. I cannot decide which I like better.)

Sarah: 2018

“Too soon?” Allie asked, looking at the paper she had just slid across the table.

It was more than just a number, it was his number. She wanted me to open Pandora’s Box after all these years.

“I can’t Allie. It’s just that so many years have passed and what if he…”

“What if he what? Doesn’t want to talk to you? Really, Sarah, I think it would be closure for the both of you. One conversation that’s all.”

“I will think about it.”

“Ok, good. Now can we do some shots?” Allie asked, looking for the waitress.

Now, that was the Allie that I knew and loved.

“I could take a shot right about now,” I said, grabbing the paper and stuffing it into my purse.

“Cheers to us! We came a long way from the hole in the wall Johnny’s!” Allie shouted, a little too loud.

The people next to us looked over. They probably thought it was way too early in the day for two middle-aged ladies to be blitzed.

And they were right.

 There was no way I was driving back to the hotel in this condition.

As I stumbled into my Uber, I saw Allie’s husband pull-up to the curb. I’m sure he wasn’t too happy to be picking up his drunk wife in the middle of the day. Allie couldn’t be tamed though, she was a live-wire. I’m sure he already knew that though.

Three hours later I woke up in my hotel room with a splitting headache. Although drinking with Allie used to be an everyday event when we were younger, my alcohol tolerance these days was at an all-time low. The last time I had a drink was a few years ago at my cousin’s bachelorette party. I drank about a half of a long island iced tea and found myself asleep on the table. Literally. My brother had to come wake me up and take me home but not before he finished my drink.

As I jumped in the shower to wash my hangover away, I remembered I had the number in my purse.

Should I call him? What would I even say? What would he say?

I wrapped the towel around my head and draped the bathrobe over me.

I had to do it.

408-555-6540

I grabbed my phone and started dialing. Just then my phone rang. It was Allie.

“Hey Sar, how ya feeling?”

“Like shit. You?”

“Like my head is going to fucking explode,” Allie moaned.

“I guess we aren’t 21 anymore.”

“Thank-God for that,” Ally scoffed. “So, what are you doing tomorrow?”

“I have a meeting with the SFPD at noon but after that, I’m free. What’s up?”

“I want to go for a little drive. We can check-out some of our hang-outs, maybe even swing by our old apartment, just for shits and giggles.”

There was one place I really wanted to go but that was one place I would visit alone.

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Hey, Sar?”

“Yeah?”

“Call him.”

“Allie, I’m scared he won’t talk to me. If he wanted to talk to me, he would have found me and talked to me. It’s clear that after all these years, he’s still angry. I don’t blame him. I took something aw—”

“Sarah, it’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it right now.”

One more week in this town, and I might lose my mind.

It’s one thing to deal with things from afar, but being dead center amid where everything fell apart, that’s a whole other story.

I hung up with Allie and began redialing his number.

408-555-6540

“You have reached 408-555-6540, Please leave your message after the tone.”

Should I leave a message? Maybe just hang-up?

“Hi, this is Sarah. I’m in town for a while. My number is 360-555-2546.”

Now, I had to just wait.

For what, I wasn’t quite sure.

 

Allie: 2003

“I don’t know Allie, this place is fancy.”

We had a table that overlooked the bay. A view that I would never get tired of looking at.

“Don’t worry about it. Order what you want, I told you lunch is on me. Well, it’s on Johnny but we won’t tell him that.”

“Are you sure? A wedge salad alone is twelve dollars.”

I looked at the girl sitting across the table from me. Although we are close in age, it seemed as if years or experiences separated us.

“Sarah, this is a work lunch.”

As Sarah was looking over the menu, her face cringing after the turn of each page, I looked around. This was place was definitely different. From the looks of it, the clientele consisted of suburban housewives who decided to get sloshed on their monthly PTA meetups and the occasional businessman who was trying to snag the latest client. Hell, take them to a strip club, that is pretty much a guarantee of getting the job.

“Okay…and explain to me what kind of work lunch this is again?”

“Hello, welcome to The Bay, my name is David and I will be your server on this fine afternoon, may I take your order?”

I could not help but wonder how many times good ol David had to spout that same opening lines throughout his shift.

“I’ll have a glass of ice water and the house salad with thousand island dressing on the side, please.”

Of course, she will.

“And for you Miss?”

“I’ll have a scotch and soda, the prime rib, and go ahead and bring us the scallops as an appetizer. Oh and bring her a blue cheese margarita.”

“Oh, umm, thank you but I do not care for blue cheese.”

“David, why don’t you surprise us, bring her a margarita. Anything without blue cheese or olives.”

Unsure of himself, David walked away, leaving us with a fake smile plastered on his face.

“So the thing is, we need a new vendor. Once a month, Johnny and I usually find a new place, get a feel for their business, the menu, things like that, then if the opportunity arises, we find the vendor, who will usually be doing deliveries by the back door.”

“That sounds, complicated.”

“Oh, it is, one time I had to sleep with the vendor to get him to come over to us.”

You would have thought this girl had seen a ghost, wide eyes, full of innocence.

“You had to do what?!?”

“Relax Sarah, I’m kidding.”

I was on my second scotch and soda. Sarah had barely touched her chocolate infused margarita. Naturally.

Between drinks and lunch, conversation flowed with both a natural and awkward flow.

“So what’s your story? You moved here from Iowa? Idaho? One of those small towns, you met whats-his-face online right?”

“Eric. I did, we met on a dating site, corresponded for some time. He wanted me to move out here, and to be honest, there really wasn’t anything keeping me at home.”

“No family or anything? That’s quite a change.”

“Well, I never knew my dad, and my mom passed away a year ago. I was trying to maintain the house, and it just got to be too much. I had to sell. It was time for a change.”

David brought us the check. I whipped out Johnny’s debit card and left the vinyl folder on the side of the table.

“You doing okay out here? Things going well for you?”

Sarah was gathering her purse, she stood up, taking her hands while wiping away the invisible wrinkles on her skirt.

“Oh yeah, it’s great. I love Fishermans Wharf, it’s my favorite place to escape. The bar is great, I bring in some pretty decent tips, and…”

Slowly we made our way to the exit.

“Yeah, how about Eric, you guys good? I can imagine the transition from an online relationship to a here and now relationship takes some adjustment.”

As we walked passed the bar, I noticed a tall, somewhat attractive, big, like wide receiver big, guy at the bar. He looked to be late twenties. Hell if I know, you know what they say “black don’t crack” or whatever ridiculousness saying it is. He was looking for a job or something. As soon as Sarah and I made it outside, I had a thought and pulled her to the side.

“What are you doing?”

“We are waiting, so go ahead, you were telling me about Eric.”

“Who are we waiting for? I sort of need to get home before my shift starts. Eric is great. He loves me, he treats me good. He is kind of controlling but that never last long. I need to bring him around more, you guys would really like him. Well, you would, I do not think Johnny likes anyone, but…”

Just then the stranger from the bar, the wide receiver look-alike came out the entrance.

“Hold that thought!”

I left a bewildered Sarah as I called out to the stranger.

“Excuse me. Hey….excuse me, you, black guy, hello!”

Slowly he turns around with a quizzical look on his face. I turn back to motion to Sarah “one second.” Sarah looks mortified.

“Hey, my name is Allie, I could not help but overhear you are looking for a job?”

“Did you just call me “black guy?”

“Yeah, I did, after I said “excuse me” and all. So, I am Allie and like I said…”

“You don’t think hollering “black guy” could be misconstrued as maybe racist?”

“Racist? No, why? Did you?”

“Let me say this, the only other time in my life I was called out as “hey black guy” was when I was in the seventh grade and got jumped on my way home from school.”

Oh, Jesus Christ, this is not going as planned. I reached into my purse for a smoke.

“Well, you are black and you are a guy so I was just trying to get your attention, that’s all.”

“What did you say your name was? Ashley, Amanda, whatever, do you really have to smoke here?”

“Allie. My name is Allie. Damn you’re a hard-ass.”

“Not really, but okay.”

At this point, Sarah was making her way towards me and this black guy, who was built like a wide receiver and I only say that for visual purposes.

“Allie, what’s going on?”

“Are you with her?”

The stranger gives me a look. A look of annoyance. While Sarah has a look of confusion on her face.

“I am with her, is there a problem?”

“She was trying to get my attention and did so by calling me a black guy.”

“Allie! Did you really do that?!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, what did I do wrong, he is a black and he is a guy and he ignored me when I said excuse me.”

“Are you for real right now?!”

“I am sorry sir, I apologize for my friend, she had one too many drinks at lunch and…”

What the hell is happening now?

“I had two drinks, two!”

The stranger gives me a once over, looks at Sarah.

“I hope you are driving her home.”

Oh for god sakes.

“Look you two, I did not mean anything by it. I overheard you at the bar needing a job, I work at a bar, and our bar needs some sort of bouncer so I thought I could get your attention and snag you before this place does. We do not pay much but our tips are good, Jesus that’s all I was trying to do. Way to overreact.”

The black stranger looks at Sarah.

“Is she telling the truth?”

Sarah hesitates. I could see she was slowly putting two and two together.

“She is telling the truth, although her delivery could have been better. Hi, I am Sarah, nice to meet you.”

The stranger looks at me, he looks back at Sarah, he takes ones last look at me as if he is sizing me up or something.

“She does not own the place does she?”

Sarah gives me a look. As if she was pleading with her eyes for me to not say another word.

“No, she does not own the place.”

“Okay then.”

The stranger reaches his hand out to Sarah while turning his back to me.

“I’m DeAndre. Nice to meet you. I don’t know about her, but yeah, nice to meet you.”

City by the Bay (Part 1)
City by the Bay (Part 2)

Sarah

“Sarah! Is that you?! It’s been so long!” she squealed as she wrapped her arms around me.

“It has been a long time. What? About 15 years at least”?

“It feels like forever” Allie replied, looking at me like I had a third eye.

“What?” I asked, feeling self-conscious for a fleeting moment.

“You look the same, I can’t believe you haven’t aged a bit”

Yeah right. The extra 20 pounds and crow’s feet forming around my eyes said otherwise.

We sat down, each of us ordering vodka and coke, just like old times.

“So, how have you been, Allie?”

Allie gave me the quick rundown of the last 15 years of her life. Married with two kids, PTA mom sells some kind of fancy make-up in her spare time. Her husband happened to be a very successful .com executive here in the bay area. She had a perfect life. The life I almost had.

“So, what have you been up to all these years, Sarah? I see that you don’t have a ring on a certain finger.” Allie inquired, eyeing my hand suspiciously.

“No, I’m not married, nor do I have anyone special in my life right now. I don’t have time for a relationship with all the traveling I have to do for work.” I replied, trying to convince myself that what I was saying was true.

The truth was my track record in the last few years was like a train wreck. A few blind dates that never went anywhere and then there was William. William and I met by chance at the grocery store. Actually, it was in the parking lot of the grocery store on a rainy Saturday morning.

“Miss! Excuse me, Miss!” some guy was yelling behind me.

I turned around and saw a dark-skinned bald guy running towards me with a grocery bag in his hand.

“You forgot one of your bags, miss,” he said holding it out.

“Thanks,” I said, grabbing my bag.

As he turned to walk back to the store he noticed my Alma Mater decal on the back of my car.

“You went to Berkeley?”

“I did.”

“So did I. I’m originally from the bay area.”

And that’s how William and I spent our first date together. Reminiscing about our college days, even though we went at different times. He was about 8 years older, but you couldn’t tell. You know the old adage “Black don’t crack”. Well, it applied to William in every way. He was young in mind and didn’t look a day over 25.

William and I lasted about a year, until he landed his dream job in NYC on Wall Street. I couldn’t leave the job that I loved so much in Seattle, so we parted ways. Amicably, of course.

Allie saw through me. She always had. Even from the first day we met, she had the ability to know the truth and if she didn’t know, she had a way to pull it out of me. I felt a sense of protection from Allie. Like an older sister, even though she was only about a year older, she still had an aura about her that said Don’t mess with me.

An hour later and three vodkas in, it was just like old times. Laughing about the time I set the apartment on fire because I had attempted to cook chicken for the first time or the time we closed Johnny’s together one Friday night and forgot to lock the door. Johnny was pissed at us for months, luckily nobody tried to rob the place.

It was as if we picked up right where we left off.

“I have something for you” she said, reaching into her handbag.

She slid over a piece of paper across the table.

“What’s this?” I asked, looking at what appeared to be a phone number.

“It’s his number, Sarah” she said, slowly but with a haunting deliverance.

Instantly, I was taken back to another time, when my life was anything but normal.

Allie

“Want to hang out tonight?”

It was already past midnight. I was beat.

“I just spent the last 8 hours with you, what more do you want from me?”

Johnny was tallying up the books while I was doing a quick mop of the floor.

“Food. I need food and Jeremy already left.”

“Yeah, about that, thanks letting your only cook leave early, you know I despise working the kitchen.”

Johnny got up from the two top table and grabbed two beers.

“We were slow.”

“I still had to make the tenders!”

He handed me a beer while taking his place back at the two top table.

“I’m not hungry, I could do coffee though, after my beer.”

Johnny grabbed one twenty and a five dollar bill from his apron pocket.

“Sarah, you still here?”

I made my way to the too small of a kitchen to rinse off the mop.

“I’m here, John. Restrooms are clean. I put some air freshener in the…”

“Sounds good, here are your credit card tips.”

Sarah. Just barely twenty-one and in need of a job. In ways, she reminded me of myself just two years ago. Against Johnny’s better judgment, I kind of took her under my wing and begged Johnny to give her a chance. I mean the only reason Johnny was hesitant was that he wanted to bang the new girl. I put a stop to that real quick. Sarah was good, in need of a makeover yet wonderful with the customers. Whether she was serving up a platter of tenders or a round of shots, the customers liked her. Me, I had no patience for small talk, Sarah, this is where she thrived.

“Okay guys, kitchen is closed, floor is clean, stay off it!”

I grabbed one last beer and sat down next to Johnny at the two top table.

“So, what’s the plan,” I asked as I was counting my cut of the credit card tips.

“The plan is I need another beer.” Johnny could drink a Sailor under the table. I guess it comes with the territory. Bar owner and all.

“Hurry up, you are walking me home.”

Just then, the door jingled the all too familiar bell.

“Shit, the sign says closed!”

Johnny made his way to the door, as I took a sip of his beer.

“Sorry man, we are closed.”

“Yeah, I can read, I’m here to pick up…”

What? who is he picking up?

“Sorry, John, he’s with me.”

Sarah! Oh, this must be Derrick, or was it, Eric? I can’t remember. The guy she met online or something.

I got up from the table, made my way to the door as Johnny was sizing up this guy who unbeknownst to him already pissed Johnny off. Sarah was close behind.

I offered my hand. “Hey, I’m Allie, nice to finally meet you, wanna come in for a sec?”

Johnny did not say a word.

“That’s okay Allie, I am just about finished.”

“I’m Eric, I’m here for Sarah.”

Eric, that’s it. Shit. I need to pay more attention.

“I’m good, Sar, hurry up, you said 1:00. I have things to do.”

“Sorry Babe, I’m ready….Okay guys, will see ya tomorrow, at eight?”

I looked at Johnny, “Actually, the shift starts at 7, I am going to be late tomorrow.”

“Seven does not work for us” Exclaimed what seemed to be an annoyed Eric.

“Good thing it does not have to work for you. Sarah, seven pm, you good?”

I noticed Sarah looked at Eric as if asking for permission, asking for his “okay.”

“I said seven does not work for us, I have something going on, she will be here at 8.”

Sarah looked nervous. Maybe afraid? Johnny was pissed, not appreciating the attitude that was coming his way.

“It’s okay Babe, I can walk. Yeah, I will be here at 7.”

“Okay, well if something comes up give me a call, I will switch some things around and come in early.”

Johnny looked at me. His blue eyes told me his thoughts without him having to speak.

“Johnny, it’s okay, really. Sarah, see you at 7 unless something comes up. Nice to meet you, Eric.”

Off they went. Eric and Sarah.

“Al, I do not like that guy, there’s something about him.”

I grabbed my purse, threw our beers in the trash.

“Let’s go, you owe me a coffee or something chocolate.”

Johnny locked the doors as I peered off at Eric and Sarah in the distance. They were walking in the opposite direction of my favorite twenty four hour coffee shop.

I grabbed a smoke a smoke from my purse, gave one to Johnny as he lazily put his arm around my shoulder.

Johnny was right, there’s something up with this guy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sarah

I awoke startled and confused as I rolled over, hitting the snooze button. One eye open, threatening to close again, I looked at the clock.

6:12 A.M. I could feel Peaches, my Garfield looking cat perched at my feet. Peaches didn’t want to get up either. I hastily flopped my legs out of bed, reaching for my phone.

5 missed calls.

Sarah, this is Betty. I just wanted to remind you that your flight leaves at 10am, your ticket will be at the desk. Have a safe trip and call me if you have any questions.”

God, she was persistent. We had already been over all the details of this business trip yesterday. “Don’t forget to take notes” “Make sure you remember the outline for the business plan.

Yes, Betty, I have done this before, I thought to myself as lazily made my way to the kitchen.

The coffee was started while I rushed around trying to throw some powder on my sleepy face amid trying to figure out what to wear. Jeans and a hoodie would have to do.

“BEEP! BEEP!” The car service blared his horn in the front of my apartment.

Quickly, I grabbed my suitcase and purse to leave, but not before giving Peaches a quick pet and kiss.

It was just my luck, sitting next to a snoring, bald man who smelled whiskey and stale cigars. How could he be asleep already? And who drinks whiskey this early in the morning? The plane hadn’t even left the tarmac for God’s sake.

I settled in next to the window seat, preparing myself for the inevitably turbulent plane ride. The rainstorm upon us wasn’t going to be gentle and neither was the fact that I hadn’t been to San Francisco for 15 years.

Reluctantly, I had to rip off the band-aid off, exposing the scar that hadn’t see the light of day in a very long time.

Two hours later and a minor headache in the making, I found myself back in the city by the bay. A flash flood of memories came crashing in, fast and hard. Some good and some not so good. I suppressed them momentarily, making my way to the baggage claim. My focus had to stay where it needed to be: the girls.

With only 30 minutes to spare, I threw on my go-to black pants suit and flats. Gathered my long, dark hair in a bun with a touch of nude lipstick. The reflection in the mirror was composed, however, the feeling in my stomach was telling a much different story.

Pushing open the double doors of the conference room, I took a deep breath and plastered a smile on my face. Be confident, I told myself. I had done this hundred of times before but the voices from the past always tried to rear their ugly heads. Not this time. Not now.

I looked out at the twenty Law Enforcement representatives before me as I stood behind the podium.

Good Afternoon, Ladies and Gentlemen. My name is Sarah and I am here today to tell you about the non-profit organization called “Scarlet Door”. Scarlet Door was established in 1987 by a former prostitute, Betty Nicks, that now assists other girls and women that want to get out of the domestic violence situations. Scarlet Door partners with Law enforcement agencies in the Pacific Northwest and would like to expand to the bay area. In doing so….

Two hours later the meeting was over. As far as I was concerned it was a success. Contacts were made, and networking had been launched. After a quick video call with Betty, all seemed to be going smoothly, maybe a little too smoothly.

After a quick change of clothes, I found myself in the hotel elevator. I was looking forward to having dinner with my old friend, Allie. Allie had seen me at my worst 15 years ago and tonight, she would see me at my best.

A lot had changed since Ally and I had met that night at Johnny’s back in 2003. My career had flourished as did my growth as a person. I knew things now that I did not back then. I was the person I always wanted to be yet, there still seemed to be something missing. I was always trying to fill the void with something. Lately, it had been with work.

I bet Allie didn’t have the emptiness in her life. A good-looking rich husband, great kids and the huge house overlooking the bay. What else could a girl want?

As I pulled up to the restaurant and nervously got out of the car, I stopped and looked around. Familiar hang-out spots like Shanahan’s which had the best Irish beer was still there and some not so familiar places that had popped up over the years. Taking a deep breath, I walked towards the entrance. I couldn’t wait to see Allie but I was apprehensive because seeing her would bring up old stuff. Hard stuff. As I opened the doors, a brunette caught my eye, her back was facing me, but I knew it was her. I could’ve walked out and maybe I should have. Instead, I decided to open the door to my old life, a life that I had buried long ago.

And a life that would be unexpectedly resurrected.

Allie

I knew as soon as I walked into the smokey room, tonight was going to be a long one. Not yet 6:00 and the bar was packed. That’s Monday night football for you. The San Francisco 49ers were playing at Candlestick Park. This was one of those games they had to win in order to have a chance to even make it to the playoffs. All the fans, along with a few degenerates were at the bar, “Johnny’s.” A hole in the wall establishment that was not much to look at yet offered the best mozzarella and margarita combo around.

At the last-minute, Johnny called me in. One of the girls quit without any notice and he needed coverage. If it were anyone else, I would have told them to “fuck off” I was spending my Monday night curled up on the couch, watching my team. Not the 49ers. I was rooting for the Steelers all the way, but it was Johnny, my best friend, so yeah, here I am in the smoke-filled overcrowded bar, with freakin Nickleback blaring from the old yet efficient sound system, having to pull at least a six-hour shift.

“Look what the cat dragged in, ’bout time you made it.”

“You’re lucky I am here at all, my team is playing and you have me here with a bunch of drunks who are rooting for a losing team.

“Just get your apron on Al, I am backed up.”

I threw my long black hair into a messy bun, grabbed my faded black apron and went to work.

“What’s up with Heather, why did she quit?”

Johnny, doing a quick wipe down of the bar while grabbing a beer for a soon to be drunk.

“Hell if I know, she called and said she was done.”

“See John, that’s why I told you not to sleep with her, geez, you never listen!”

“Al, just check on the customers.”

That’s Johnny for you. He can never say no to a pretty girl. Johnny was one of the first people I met when I left Pitsburg and ended up in the city by the bay. I needed a job, he needed a waitress. Quickly we developed an easy flow. I mean once I shut down his advances that is. Over the last year or so, we became our own little family. Johnny was cool in “bad boy” kind of way, even though I enjoy busting his balls, he knows I will always have his back.

Shortly after halftime, it was not looking good for my team. Linkin Park was blaring, the bar was rowdy, and I was in a mood. The bells on our front door jingled, “Seriously, more people?!” In walks a young girl, all alone. Something was not right with this one. She was too “good” for this bar. Maybe she was meeting someone.

“Hey Allie, ya going to pour me another or do I need to do it myself.”

Bryan, one of our regulars. “You come behind my bar I will kick your ass, sit down, it’s coming.” I got Bryan his refill of scotch and soda while keeping my eye on this girl. Maybe she was lost?

She took her place at the opposite end of the bar, nervously looking around. Johnny made eye contact with me as he was cutting up limes. I gave him the “stay away from this one” look. Something was not right. Her dark brown hair was a stark contrast to her pale, matronly clothes. I gotta go with my gut on this one.

“How ya doing? Ya lost?”

Nervously, she looks up from the cocktail peanuts she seemed to be contemplating putting in her mouth.

“I’ll have a diet coke.”

“Okay, coming right up.”

I grabbed a low ball glass from under the counter and poured the girl a diet coke.

TOUCHDOWN SAN FRAN.

The bar erupted in applause, cheers, profanities.

The girl sitting in front of me jumped.

“Not a football fan are you?”

“I am, I guess, well, it is just so loud in here. I was not expecting it to be so busy.”

“You’re in a bar on a Monday night, in the heart of the season, what did you expect?”

As soon as Johnny saw I was talking to this young, naturally pretty girl he made a beeline our way.

“Anything I can help with?”

“Yeah, call Bryan a cab he is about done.”

“Fuckin Bryan.”

“I’m Allie,” I said, as I offered my hand.

The girl, who looked to be close to my age, just with a hell of a lot more innocence, cautiously put her hand out.

“Hey Allie, I am Sarah, I am supposed to be meeting someone here but I do not see them.”