How A Heavy Heart Paved The Path Of & For My Personality

You know, it’s amazing – how many people tell you that they are the way they are because of how someone else treated them. Most times, it’s the result of an abusive relationship or one where trust was broken. As a result, they are slow to get to know someone. And even if they DO decide to connect with them, their heart is heavily guarded or worse, they penalize that person for the sins of his or her predecessor.

But no matter what happens, it changes who they are.
Whether subtle or overt, they change.
Which is what happened to me, but not in the way you would think.

Time to tell the tale, although names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent…

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How A Heavy Heart Paved The Path Of & For My Personality

1984 East Chicago, High School Days

Enter: Diane

Before I met my girlfriend in my senior year, there was another girl that I had an interest in, albeit briefly. I’ll call her Diane.

Diane was a very beautiful dark blonde whose eyes and smile brightened when she laughed. She had a sparkly, inviting personality that made her very engaging, funny, and a joy to be around.

Everything I ever wanted in a girl.

She lived about two neighborhoods over, but I hung out with her often whenever my buddies and I were in that area. We even invited her along during several of our misadventures.

I’m sure that most of my crew were as attracted to her as I was, but no one would admit it, much less act on it.

The Double Date Plan – Enter: Charity

One day, I decided to ask Diane out on a double date with my buddy Mark and a cute, curly brunette he’d had met at a mall clothing store in Merrillville, IN, named Charity.

Mark was a handsome young man who prided himself on his looks but lacked the courage to approach other girls. It was after much convincing on my end that he conjured the nerve to approach her, strike up a conversation and ask for her number.

It took about 45 minutes, but he finally succeeded.

Our talk on the way home was dominated by his boasts about how smooth he was during their chat. I smiled silently and let him run with it to give him the victory. Better yet, the confidence boost.

It took a few telephone conversations before he finally asked Charity out on a date, which prompted him to ask me to come along. I was cool because this gave me the excuse to ask Diane, who excitedly agreed.

Double Date Night

The stage was set, and the day finally arrived.

One hour before leaving to pick up Charity, Mark called her from my house to let her know that we were on our way. It was then that she told him she couldn’t make it. I forget the reason why, not that it’s important.

Since Mark was borrowing his mother’s car and I didn’t have a driver’s license, that left me to tell my date Diane that the night was off. Mark felt that we should continue with the date, with him as chauffeur. I wasn’t crazy about the arrangement because I loved the possibility of us all enjoying a movie, a good meal, then parking somewhere private for some unmentionable activity.

I knew that with him being the third wheel, that was unlikely to occur.
But I could still get my date in. Hopefully the first of many.

Diane was even more excited about the date than I was, much to my surprise. That made me feel even better about moving forward with things. When we picked her up, she gave us both hugs and jumped in the backseat with me. I was going to suggest that she ride up front, as my upbringing suggested (don’t make women ride in the back), but since she was my date, I kept silent because she was, after all, my date.

I can’t remember whose suggestion it was, but somewhere along the way, we all agreed that if we considered it Friends’ Night Out, it wouldn’t feel as awkward for Mark. I remember Diane winking at me as a reminder that we were still out on a date.

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Third Wheels Spin Faster: A Shift In Seating

Once at the theater, after purchasing our popcorn, hot dogs, and drinks (back when that stuff was affordable), we made our way to a good section about 2/3 of the way towards the back. There was room in the right-hand section, but we knew we’d end up venturing left to sit in the middle, as any real moviegoer would do.

I was about to gesture for Diane to go in first so I could follow, but she gave that winning smile and extended her hand, allowing Mark to lead the way. I didn’t want to go second, making her walk in last (that courtesy thing again), but I figured it best to follow Mark so I could sit between the two. This would allow me to laugh to the left with him from time to time about the movie, all the while getting my hopeful right-armed cuddle time with Diane.

Although my private decision only took a fraction of a millisecond, it was ultimately decades too long because before I could step in after him, she moved ahead of me, following Mark and ultimately plopping herself down between us.

Lean On Me (Or Not)

One empty bucket of popcorn later (I eat fast)…

The time had come. We were deep into the movie (which for the life of me, I actually cannot recall – that’s unusual of me, I know…). I figured we were at a level of comfort where I could make my move. I leaned to my left, just enough to raise my arm smoothly and drape it across her shoulder. As I reached over, I noticed that she had begun to lean to her left. I continued my movement, knowing it was too late to change direction. That’s when she made HER move.

Diane leaned completely to her left against Mark.

Mark glanced mildly in our direction before leaning forward a tad, supposedly making himself unavailable. But that didn’t stop Diane. She continued leaning until his right shoulder was wedged firmly between her chin and her left shoulder.

What happened next wasn’t just disappointing—it was a full-blown paradigm shift. The girl I thought was my date, the one I had hoped to be close to, suddenly became his. The entire dynamic changed in an instant, leaving me stunned and painfully aware of how quickly things slipped away from me.

I paused to look at them, mouth wide open. She turned her head in my direction, just in time to catch my look of disapproval. I wanted to say something, but I was at a true loss for words. I wanted to yell and ask what the hell she was doing. I wanted to ask what HE was doing, since all he did was look at me and shrug his shoulders. I wanted to snatch her up, but I wasn’t that kind of guy.

And she wasn’t my girl.

And we agreed it was NOT a date, in print.

Nowhere To Run, Nowhere To Hide

I wanted to walk out and leave them there to find another way home. But it wasn’t my car. I thought about walking out of the theater into the lobby, calling one of the guys, and asking him to pick me up. For some stupid reason, I decided against it. Mostly because of the distance from our city and neighborhood. I opted out of calling home to ask my parents to come get me. My dignity wouldn’t allow it.

Besides, I knew better than to do something like that. Not MY working parents.

Chalk it up to youth, inexperience, and stupidity, but I ended up doing nothing except to sit in the cushioned seat, watch the movie, and sulk…

Shows you how much dignity I actually had.

Mark eventually settled back in his chair, looking back at me from time to time with that goofy “what do you want ME to do?” look on his face. I said nothing. Not even when she turned her body towards him to feed him the remainder of her popcorn.

The Do’s And Donuts (And Drop-Offs)

After the movie ended, I maintained my silence until she asked where we were going to eat. I told them I wasn’t hungry and was cool with us just heading back. She countered that she was starving and was hoping we could at least stop at Dunkin Donuts to grab a quick bite. Mark looked to me as I shot him a look back, letting him know I was none too pleased with his performance, or the lack thereof, in addition to hers. I told him I was cool with that.

My body language remained the same as we sat at the donut shop a short while later. And hungry as I was, I didn’t order anything. I just sat silent on my side of the booth as she sat next to him, giggling and feeding him donuts. That whole time, he continued to make that puzzled face, which gave me absolutely no satisfaction.

It was, of course, no surprise that she jumped in the front seat with him and rested on his shoulder as he drove casually down the highway, to our city through the neighborhoods.

At this point, I was utterly devoid of gallantry, speaking four of the very few words that I had to say after a night of betrayal, indifference and disrespect.

“Drop me off first,” I said flatly. To hell with seeing a lady home…

As I exited the car, they both told me goodnight as I closed the door with a cold, “Yeah”, not looking back.

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Intervention – Enter: The Cruisers

That following evening, Mark came over to my house to talk about the previous night, only to find me and the rest of our friends in my basement waiting for him.

I continued my silence as the group began to question him about what transpired that night.

“It wasn’t my fault!” he began. “She was all over ME. What did you expect me to do?”

The fellas shook their heads, knowing he had enjoyed the attention he’d received.

“You could have pushed her off!” one of them fired angrily.

“That was fucked up.” Another added. “Kenny’s your best friend.”

Mark looked at me as I sat there, not saying a word. It was clear that my firmly pressed lips would remain as such as our impromptu intervention continued.

“Look,” he defended. “I can’t help it if she was into me.”

There was some truth to his answer, but as the conversation continued, his tone changed. The more he talked, the more it appeared that he was enjoying the fruits of his appearance. I wasn’t sure if he knew it, but his answers hinted more and more that he felt he was a victim of his own charm, and he was powerless to stop the girls.

It wasn’t long before one of the guys joked that he was “just a face” and that I was the Cyrano de Bergerac of the group. I didn’t see myself as such, but I did have a history of speaking on men’s behalf, feeding them lines, writing poetry, playing matchmaker for everyone.

Everyone except myself.

Still, no matter what they said, he couldn’t see the fact that his failure to reject her advances only served to condone her actions. In fact, he encouraged it.

“Kenny, if you had a problem with it, you should have SAID something,” he closed weakly.

I paused, choosing my words carefully.

“Trust me. You wouldn’t have wanted to hear what I had to say.”

The looks on the group’s faces helped to solidify my only response.

A Shift In Friendship

Although he remained one of my closest friends, things changed considerably that day. She continued to hang out with us from time to time, but no one ever asked her out again. As for me, it was some time before I double-dated with anyone again.

But the greatest personal change?

I had come to the realization that I would never have the good looks like some of the others, although my father had once told me that I was not a “bad-looking young man”. As if that phrasing helped at all.

I told myself that if I couldn’t rely on my looks, I needed to make the ladies see and hear something else entirely.

Kenny 2.0 – Enter: “Zoot”

I focused my energy on building my social intelligence, solidifying my so-called “rap”. I became more in tune with what women looked for in men. I adjusted my sense of humor, being less of a boorish clown, displaying a more mature brand of wit and wisdom.

And more than anything else, I locked down on my practice sessions, working my hardest to take my musical skills to the highest level. I swore to myself that I would not be seen running in a football uniform or slamming a basketball. I would shock the world on stage.

And that’s when “Zoot” took over, leaving “Skinny Kenny” behind (even though I was still skinny). No longer concerned about my looks, physique, or bank account, I decided to take charge of my own life. I was never afraid to talk to women before, but things changed dramatically. I learned to present WHO I was inside, as opposed to what they saw on the outside.

I worked harder to be more self-confident and intellectually humorous instead of childishly obnoxious. I decided to be charming, poetic, and chivalrous. I could still be funny, but first, I had to be a gentleman.

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Enter: Everybody!

I find it funny, though, that four years later, the very setting that led to my heartbreak (a chance meeting at a clothing store) would be my avenue to meeting girls on my own terms and without the need for double dates. By 1988, I had become the store manager at Jeans West in Governor’s Square Mall in Tallahassee, Florida. It was a young men’s clothing store, but girls often came in and bought clothes for their boyfriends or themselves.

Being located in the capital city, I saw beautiful women daily: the locals, girls from Tallahassee Community College, Florida A&M University, Florida State, and young state workers.

…and that, my friends, is when life really got interesting.

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