That’s not what happened. It was December 2016 at KC Juke House, a staple for Kansas City’s 2Step scene. As I entered the club, I made a memorable entrance reminiscent of Lance on the Best Man entrance, dressed in a stylish blue peacoat and matching blue turtleneck, with my hair wavy and my beard well-groomed and shiny was undoubtedly the center of attention as I walked to the bar. There, I noticed the owner sitting and thought it polite to say hi. Next to the owner stood a slender, beautiful woman with dark skin and perfect white teeth. She couldn’t take her eyes off me, and I felt it would be rude not to acknowledge her. She was wearing a TEXAS hat, which served as an instant conversation starter. I remarked, ‘You’re a TEXAS fan, I presume?’ She replied, ‘What?’ I clarified, ‘Your hat.’ She responded, ‘Uh, no,’ while giving me a thorough once-over. I introduced myself, saying, ‘I’m Gerron, and you are?’ She replied, ‘Nicole.’ I then said, ‘Nicole, it was a pleasure meeting you.’ With that, I walked away smoothly, aware that she was likely watching me, but I was too composed and looked too good to look back