They just won’t stop…..Part 3 (Allegedly)

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.


“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.

“To my mom’s supposed life long friend, why do you feel the need to instigate things, don’t play dumb, don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You donate $80 to my mom’s birthday charity cause, but then talk shit about her behind her back to the other person. Don’t act like you don’t, or is it just a concidence that you liked the posts where she called my mother a “bitch” and “trailer trash”.
How two-faced do you have to be.” The life-long friend that you speak of was not instigating. And, let’s look at that. The life-long friend, the one person who knows your mother the best, can relate to what I wrote, then perhaps there is something to it? Again, please be mindful that you do not always know what goes on behind the scenes.

“You both should know better, yall are grown ass women, but you act like 4 years olds.” A gentle reminder, that your own mother is close to 50 and resorted to making a public post about my family member. Let’s try to stay on the same playing field here.

“So you know what I think today I’m going to eat dinner with my mother and celebrate her birthday, and no, neither one of you is invited.” I have  no idea how I will sleep tonight knowing I was not invited.





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

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.”


“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.







Attention : Lisa Stewart (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.




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.)

black screen

City by the Bay (Part 3)

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.


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?”


“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.


“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)


City by the Bay : Part 2



“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.


“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.







City by the Bay (Part 1)


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.


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.


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.”