The Loner

 

"Never allow someone to fully assume they know who you are because they may disappoint you." Dr. BLR

 

Being born at the end of the Baby Boomer generation gave me a lot of insight into the world of some of the firsts for the following generations. I used to watch kung fu movies and dream of becoming the next Bruce Lee. I did the usual things for a young kid growing up in an inner city, like playing street baseball and neighborhood pick-up football games. When not playing with my twin brother, I’d sometimes hang out with the wrong crowd and do stupid stuff, but I never got caught. The cool guys never inspired me to be part of the in crowd because, for some reason, I always did my own thing and never looked back.

Even in high school, I always stayed to myself. However, I noticed many young people listening to and enjoying rap music, hanging out on street corners, drinking forty-ounce bottles of beer, and mainly praising the popular kids who were into fashion. While I liked the latest clothes, I did my best to keep up and look presentable, but I wasn’t a trend follower or setter; I just stayed in my lane.

Television promoted many rising rappers, including Tupac, Biggie, and Snoop Dogg. But, for some reason, I couldn’t be bothered. I didn’t find their music appealing. At 17, I was into going to dance clubs and mingling with an older, eclectic crowd. Most weekends, I could be found on the dance floor at Club Zanzibar in the Lincoln Motel in downtown Newark. None of the street allure interested me. Many of my peers were into watching MTV videos, admiring gangs, and living the street life. I worked at a local pizzeria almost eleven hours a day, which kept me busy and off the streets. 

Getting involved in the nightlife scene opened my eyes to disco clubs. So much so that my high school friend and I started our own neighborhood dance spot called Club Hardware. We got some friends to join us, and overall, we were successful even though we were only 18. While we mostly catered to people our age, I always felt much older and more comfortable around people in their mid-20s.

Soon after, we had to shut down the club because of neighborhood complaints about noise, so I decided to join the Army Reserves. This meant leaving my comfortable surroundings and stepping into an environment with other soldiers, but I chose this path on my own. No conversations with friends, just me feeling that I needed more discipline in my life. 

I joined the military through what was called the “Delayed Entry Program,” which meant that at the end of my eleventh-grade year, I would leave to attend basic training at Fort Dix, N.J., and then complete my specialized training at Fort Gordon, Georgia, after I graduated from high school the following year. I thought this disciplined background would help me fit into a group, but I often found myself purposely staying on the outside of the main group, hanging out with one or two guys who I thought were somewhat introverted like me. I couldn’t put my finger on why I was like this, but I just had to get used to it.

When I returned home from my military training, I resumed my routine of working at the pizzeria and partying at clubs, but I didn’t want this to be my career or my future. So, before going to work, I tried my hand at a tractor-trailer driving school, but I couldn’t master backing that damn thing up, so I moved on. A friend suggested I look into joining the New Jersey State Police, which I eventually did. I graduated about a year later and knew I had found my calling. I enjoyed helping people and wearing a cool uniform.

At first, I socialized with my squadmates to build a strong working relationship because we depended on each other. Everything went smoothly until I was promoted to detective, and my work environment changed. My new colleagues enjoyed hunting, golfing, and other activities that didn’t interest me, so I kept our relationship professional. I went to work, did my job, and went home. Around that time, I also started college, so I had to study. My days became long, leaving no time to hang out. I was often invited to work events, but my excuse was always the same: I have to go home and study. I found many of my colleagues to be inflexible and close-minded. Everything was black and white, and more white, if you know what I mean. I’m pretty sure they thought I was standoffish, but I really didn’t feel comfortable because I didn’t want them to really get to know me. I came from the inner city, and they didn’t. Our conversations were completely different, except for work assignments or the everyday discussion of sports. 

As my law enforcement career came to an end, I reflected on why I had been a loner. It all boiled down to trust, or rather, the lack of it. I learned how to read people and realized that, to no one's fault, everyone was looking out for themselves. If that were the case, I would have to protect myself at all costs, because many people would take advantage of your kindness, even family members. I keep my circle of acquaintances small and don’t share my personal matters with many people. Some have asked me whether I get lonely being a loner. I pause and exclaim, “No drama, have peace.” This is the way I like it, and I wouldn’t change a thing.