Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again
I am in Kansas City right now. I did not go to Buffalo Wild Wings. Did not even consider it. Instead, I got takeout at the Outback Steakhouse on Barry Road, the same one I’ve gone to many a time, and just took my food back to my hotel room at the Courtyard on Tiffany Springs. I stuffed myself good–New York Strip (rare this time, not overcooked), the ahi tuna, plus a salad, and I still have a Caesar salad left.
I couldn’t go back to Buffalo Wild Wings. Not after the commotion I’ve caused on my last two visits. Not with the hurt I’ve caused to two people who opened their hearts to me and I proceeded to treat like crap. I deserve to be alone and deserve to be ostracized for the things I did.
Brittany Davidson and Lisa Toebben were nothing but nice to me from the first time I encountered them at Buffalo Wild Wings. And recently, all I have done is piss on it. They have gone above and beyond what anyone should have to do to help another human being, and I have taken it for granted.
Brittany and Lisa had no reason whatsoever to help someone who lives 250 miles away, even if I am a regular customer at Buffalo Wild Wings. They didn’t have to do so, but out of the kindness of their hearts, they did all they could to help me, and more. And what have I done? Taken it and spit on it. They didn’t do anything wrong to deserve this treatment from me. Yet I’ve done it time and time and time and time and time and time and time again. No wonder I’m lonely. No wonder so many people have cut me out of their lives.
Brittany and Lisa are far from the first people I’ve done it to.
First and foremost, I blew my chance with Renetta Rogers because I supposedly posted negative things about her mother on Facebook, and supposedly it cost Liz Rogers a job in Jefferson City when she moved there with her husband and Renetta in 2009. Renetta was everything I was hoping for in a partner, and Renetta was really able to look past all my flaws and see what I had to offer, but I blew it. Really blew it. Maybe all of the things I’m going through now is karma for the way I royally screwed up with Renetta’s mother. Then again, I keep doing it.
I’m just so damn lucky a few, like Stacie Dauterive Seube and Toni LaRocca, have given me another chance. They didn’t have to. They could have easily forgotten about me when I left Arabi Park Middle for Brother Martin in 1989. They should have forgotten about me when I left Louisiana after Hurricane Katrina. But thank God they’ve come back to me. I know I haven’t talked to any of the others from Arabi Park as much as I have with Stacie and Toni, but at least I know they haven’t forgotten me totally.
Stacie and Toni have had it far worse than me. They lost Allison Richardson to cancer at 32. Nobody should have to live the last two-thirds of their lives without one of their closest friends. And it’s a damn shame Allison was robbed of her life so young. She had so much promise. I saw it in her when we were 12 and 13. I wish I could have gone in her place.
Brenda LeBlanc is another one who should have dumped me. If she wanted to take me to one of the bridges in Baton Rouge which span the Mississippi River and dump me over, I wouldn’t have blamed her. I let her down so much. So so much. I’m damn lucky there, too.
Elizabeth Psenski should have kicked me to the curb for the stunt I pulled before she went on her trip to Michigan in July. I pretty much pulled the same shit with her that I have with Brittany and Lisa. I thought she was going to do that to me on the Fourth of July, but she gave me a reprieve. She has more wisdom before 21 than I will ever acquire. It’s because she has a great mother. Nadine probably should have given me the cold shoulder, too, for treating her daughter so poorly. But she hasn’t.
Shannon Swanson came on board in June and has done all she can to help me, and I’ve let her down. I’m sure she’s frustrated with me. She offered to go to a group with me later this month. I need to. I need help.
Brittany posted something very harsh on my Facebook page last week. But she did it because she doesn’t want to see me sad. Yet here I was Monday still sad and angry too, and it had to not only make her angry that it seemed like I was ignoring her pleas, it had to scare her I was in that state. Over 48 hours later, I still can’t get it out of my head. If she doesn’t want to talk to me again, I understand.
Lisa had to put up with the same crap the previous week. She didn’t deserve it. She’s trying her best to help. She volunteered to go to the group with Shannon and I. She doesn’t have to. Lord know what I’ve put her through.
I know I will never, ever be forgiven. Brittany Davidson is probably out of my life forever. I deserve it. But I don’t know how I’m going to go on.
My time in Kansas City is running short, as is my free time for the summer. I’ll be covering volleyball in just under 52 hours, and by this time next week, the season will be in full swing.
Save for the problem with the two guys at Buffalo Wild Wings last night and my indecision Saturday, this has been a very good trip. I really had a blast getting doused with ice water by my friends at B-Dubs, and I’ve had a ton of fun going down memory lane with some of my chums from Arabi Park Middle School.
Two more reconnections this morning, bringing the total to seven.
One was with Toni LaRocca, one of only a few from Arabi Park I saw in person since exiting the school for the final time on June 2, 1989. I ran into Toni at Hooters in Metairie a few times during my internship with the New Orleans Zephyrs in 2000. She may have been the shortest girl in our class, but she had one of the biggest hearts, not to mention a smile which could melt away the tightest frown. I absolutely loved her in that Hooters uniform. And i love her still.
The other new Facebook friend is Tammy Gilbert, whom I’m proud to say is far, far smarter than I. She was shy, but very studious and very friendly when you got to know her. She also played the flute in the band, and she joined with Toni and Nicole Meyer–the tallest of our class–three great ones. Ms. Crow never had to worry about the flutes. Never.
Tammy lived next door to Rosemarie’s grandparents, so it was natural they were best friends. Two great ladies.
Now I’m starting to remember another band member who wasn’t in the honors classes, Vicki Tabora. Vicki lived across the street from Carolyn Park on the other side of St. Robert Bellarmine church, not too far from the Datuerive residence. Vicki was a gifted drummer, and she accepted the burden of playing one of the big bass drums. Try carrying that for 8-10 miles in a parade. Most boys would cry, but Vicki handled it like a champ.
Strange but true story. I was so clumsy in the sixth grade that I couldn’t play the clarinet and march, so Ms. Crow had me carry the Louisiana state flag at the front of the parade formation. However, I was good enough playing when sitting down to make the Louisiana Music Educators Association elementary honor band for the second consecutive year. Nicole, Rosemarie and Jason Malasovich also made it in 1988. Maybe it was a good thing I wasn’t playing the clarinet in parades in 1988, because the Arabi Park band won the band competition in the Shangri-La parade, and we got to march at the very beginning of that parade in 1989.
Now that I’ve friended Stacie, Rosemarie, Shandy, Shawn, Lara, Toni and Tammy, I’m starting to see more and more and more from St. Bernard pop up when I’m searching for friends. I have to admit it’s making me smile.
As nice as it is to sit around the computer, it’s no good here in the hotel. Time to get ready and get over to Buffalo Wild Wings. Brittany Davidson is working tonight. She reminds me a lot of Toni not in terms of being short, but in being a warm and caring person. Her finacee is one lucky guy.