Cole Black Heart

Chapter 1

Call In

"You have reached the Coal Black Heart, and you're on the air. What's your name?"

"Um... hi Cole... I'm Shelley..."

"Shell baby, how can I enlighten you?"

"It's my boyfriend..." I could hear her heavy sigh, even in the recording. "...we've been dating for three years now, and I just can't seem to get him to make a commitment..."

"Shell—Shelley, are you and your boyfriend having sex?"

"Well...he sort of..."

"Darlin', your mother's not listening in, and even if she is, she knows you're not a virgin. Are you and your boyfriend of three years having sex?'

"Yes..." A sound like an old-fashioned ooga horn cut her off.

"Shelley! Sweetheart, if you've listened to this program even once, you know the problem, even before you ask. Why do you think he won't commit?"

"Well... he says he will, eventually...."

"And it's been three years? Three—long—years? Honey, it's just like your mother told you—he'll never buy the cow if he can get the milk for free. It's a simple answer here. Even if he loves you, he's more likely to get hit by lightening than take a walk down the aisle, unless you change his mind."

"But I can't back out of it now. I mean, he would be upset..."

"'Scuse me? Is it your job to see to his emotional well-being? That sounds like a wife to me—oh snap, you're not married."

"But what if he breaks up with me? I mean, isn't that changing the rules on him in the middle of the game?"

"Wait a minute, what rules? Did you agree three years ago, that you would be at his beck and call, see no one else, and have sex whenever he wanted?"

"No..."

"Good, because the rest of us would be jealous if he'd come up with such a good deal, right from the start. But you're saying that's how it is now?"

"Yes... I guess..."

"Shelley Honey, when you get off the phone here, I want you to go into your bathroom, and lift up your shirt. Then turn around so you can see your back in the mirror. Darlin', you really need to see if you've got WELCOME tattooed on your back, because somehow your boyfriend has come by the idea that you're a doormat."

"It's not like that! He loves me!"

"How can he love you, if he doesn't respect you? You want to get married, and he promised he would marry you. Has he at least put a ring on your finger?"

"We can't afford a ring right now. We've just had a new roof put on the house..." A sound like shattering glass interrupted her.

"A new roof for the house! What? Whoa, hold the phone here; you're living together?"

"Yes... for about two years now..."

"Aw Shelley... you've done more than just given this man free milk, you've gone and given him the milking maid for free too. Hun, there's a reason men always want their girlfriends to move in with them; it's a checkered flag for him, and a yellow for her. Do you cook him dinner?"

"Yes... sometimes."

"Do you do his laundry?"

"He has to put it away..."

"Do you buy the groceries, pick up his dry cleaning, vacuum the floors, wash the dishes, make the bed, and scrub the toilet?"

"Well... someone has to do it."

"But that someone doesn't have to be you. If you didn't live with him, who do you think would be doing all those chores?"

"He would...?"

"Unless his mother lived nearby, then yeah, he would have to do everything himself. Do you help with the rent and the bills?"

"Yeah... I see where this is going."

"Do you? Sug, you're paying the boy to drink your milk and overwork your maid. Maybe you should ask yourself, if you really want to marry this mook."

"But we've been together for three years! I... I love him. I don't want to lose him."

"Sweetie, maybe the more important thing to consider, is what happens if you lose yourself. You've put this boyfriend in charge of your life and your future, and now you're on the phone with me, because he's not taking you where you want to go. Do you see a problem here?"

"I should tell him..."

I groaned loud enough to be heard. "Shelley. He's never going to marry you, unless you love and respect yourself enough to make a change, and demand more of him, and more of yourself. I can tell you, with every assurance of this coal black heart of mine, that no man wants to marry a doormat. If you want a change, you have to create it, and don't lie down so he can walk on you!" The recording ended, and I hit the next show I wanted to hear.

"Next caller, you've got the Coal Black Heart here, and you're on the air..."

"It happened to me again! I don't know why I even try—all men are dogs!"

"Angela! Nice to have you back, Honey."

"Don't honey me! I don't need your condescension, especially after the fiasco of a date I've had this weekend!"

"So what was it this time, Sug?"

"Quit it! Quit it with the little girly nicknames. I'm not Honey or Baby, or Sugar, or Darling—get it through your head. I'm a woman, and I deserve respect—just like you told your last caller."

"Absolutely, Sweetheart." I listened to my muffled laughter, and her indignant screech.

"You're doing a great job of proving my point—all men are dogs!"

"Aw come on, dogs are great. They're loyal, warm, soft, friendly, and they're happy to lick your face."

"Exactly! I don't want my face licked, or my body groped—or stared at for that matter. I'm not some man's playground, and just because he buys me dinner, doesn't mean he gets to put the moves on me!"

"You know, I really wish I could splice your attitude with my last caller, and make you both happier."

"Just what's that supposed to mean?"

"Angelley would probably be a nice girl—er, woman. She'd be someone who knew how to have fun on a date, but also knew how to stick up for herself. She wouldn't let a man take advantage of her, but she also wouldn't make him fear for the safety of his family jewels."

"Are you trying to say I'm not enough of a pushover? You think I should just give in and let a man stare at me, and slide over next to me so he can look down my dress, and try to kiss me when I don't want it!"

"I'm trying to say, that this is your fourth call, Angela, and every time you call in, I feel like I should hire more security. You're angry all the time, and I'm sitting here all safe and secure in my sound booth, and I still want an athletic cup! How much rage do you think you can direct at men, and still have them look at you with any kind of warmth?"

"I knew you'd take his side! He was disgusting! He ogled my breasts when he sat beside me at dinner, and I swear he looked down my shirt when he pulled my chair out for me to sit. And when he took me home, he tried to kiss me! He even put his hand on my knee when we were driving—he was a pig!"

"Where did you go?"

"He took me to some fancy steakhouse, and made a big deal out of spending a lot of money for dinner. He must have thought I was a high-priced hooker, the way he came on to me after dinner."

"He came on to you? Honey, I have a hard time imagining a man would want to tangle with a porcupine, no matter how much he spent on dinner."

"Why else would he want to go dancing? I wouldn't let him put his hands on me, so he thought I'd loosen up if he called it dancing!"

"Did you dance with him?"

"Well, I would have, but he didn't put his hand in the right place. I've had dancing lessons, and a proper gentleman keeps his hand between a lady's shoulder blades. He had his arm around my waist, and I had to stomp on his foot to make him let go. Then I made him take me home, and he thought I'd kiss him at the door!"

"So, he took you out for an expensive dinner, pulled out your chair, and tried to be friendly, took you dancing, suffered a physical attack on his person, and still drove you home, and walked you to your door—the cad!"

There was inarticulate screeching in the background of the recording. "You've got it all backward! He was trying to get me into bed! He only had one thing on his mind... how dare you make it sound like it was my fault!"

"Listen Angel, men are simple, and you're making it too hard to play your game. I've never met you, but I'd be willing to bet you're no slouch in the looks department. You must look good for men to keep asking you out. If you want my advice, you've got to dial back the drama. Go out to dinner, and if he looks at your body, take it as a compliment. Don't get upset unless it gets in the way of carrying on a conversation. We're visually stimulated, and you're not going to change millions of years of evolution by getting angry.

"Talk to him before you accuse him of wanting to take you to bed. Relax and try to have some fun. Eat—enjoy the food and wine. And if he takes you out dancing, keep in mind that he probably hasn't had dance lessons. Most men do take a woman dancing so they can get close and put their hands on them. But it's acceptable within these limits.

"Angela, at this rate, I'll expect a call from you every few weeks, and you're never going to have a second date. All men are not dogs, and all dates are not exercises in torture. Figure out why you're so angry, and deal with your issues. Next caller please."

The recording ended, and I sat there pondering Angela. Jim had muted her call, so I could finish that last part of my speech. She was one of those who always had to have the last word, and I refused to give it to her. I wasn't even sure why she kept calling in, she obviously hated my guts.

I pulled up another recording, and listened to a show I did two weeks ago.

"This is the Coal Black Heart, you're on the air."

"Um... hi Cole... it's me again... Brandi."

"Brandi darlin', how have you been?" I remembered Jim had to look her up so I could remember who she was. A bio had appeared on the screen in front of me. Brandi called in about once a month, and I had a tendency to rake her over the coals, and she thanked me for it.

"My boyfriend just broke up with me. I just don't know what I did this time. I followed your advice, and I didn't crowd him, and I didn't move in with him, and I didn't even kiss him on the first date. It was going so well for the first couple weeks, then this morning, right after our one month anniversary celebration, he broke up with me!" She broke down in tears on the air. The audience ate that stuff up, but it irritated me.

"Brandi Sweetheart, what happened last night?"

"Well, I gave him a gift for our anniversary, and he really liked the tie—I hand painted it. But he said he forgot about our anniversary, and I was just so hurt. I tried not to cry, but he could tell. So then he said he'd take me out to dinner. He hadn't planned anything, and we were just going to eat in and watch a video together like we do on most of our dates. But it was our one month anniversary!

"So... he took me to a nice place—one with a waitress and everything, and he even stopped at the grocery store and bought me flowers. He was so sweet, and we shared a piece of pie for dessert."

Just listening to her story had my teeth grinding. The schmuck bought her last-minute flowers at the grocery store, and she thought that was amazing. I had a sneaking suspicion the restaurant with a waitress was probably a diner. Cue the violins.

"This doesn't sound like a break-up story, Brandi. What happened after dinner, Sug'?"

"We went back to his place, and we..." I recognized that pregnant pause. One month anniversary, and cheap flowers, and she'd caved.

"Brandi, did you have sex with your boyfriend?" I listened to the weeping in the recording, and rolled my eyes.

"Yes. I wanted it to be special, and it was good. I mean I thought it was good... then this morning he told me he thought we should break up!" There was more crying.

"Brandi Love, you've called in six different times in the past five months. I know we've talked about setting limits. I know I've told you not to sleep with a man on the first date. And I know I've told you not to crowd him or be at his beck and call.

"But you're still making the same mistakes, only in different ways. Honey, you've got to raise your standards. If you don't expect more from someone you want to share in your life, then they will never step up. If you let him be lazy in the relationship, then he will sink as low as he can go. If you don't respect yourself, then he won't respect you either.

"You should have been offended with last minute grocery store flowers. Not that there's a thing wrong with the flowers, but he only bought them to keep you quiet. In fact, I'd be willing to bet he decided to use the whole anniversary thing to get you into bed.

"And that brings up another point; unless you're in high school, the one month anniversary is just a contrivance. Don't fall for it. Time is going to pass in any relationship, and trying to pin some special significance on the date of your first kiss, or the first time you said I love you, is just asking for trouble. No one is going to remember all these dates, and then it'll start a fight, and put the next big date at risk. Be there for each other in the moment, and then maybe he'll plan more for a date than a video on TV.

"Listen, all you bleeding hearts out there, take a lesson from Brandi, and demand more out of your life, and if you want someone to share it, demand more of them too.

"Brandi, six calls in five months; that makes six different men you've slept with in as much time. Are you starting to see a pattern here? Babe, I may sound old-fashioned, but you're going to get a name if you're not careful. Your boyfriend broke up with you, because you made it too cheap for him to get what he wanted. He probably thinks you'll give it up for anyone. If you're just in it to have fun and sex, then don't change a thing. But if you want a lasting commitment, then you've got to set the bar higher, and that goes for him too.

"Am I making any sense to you, Brandi?"

"Yes, Cole, thank you." I heard the disconnect, and groaned.

I needed to listen to one more. I hit play and sat back.

"You've reached the Coal Black Heart, and you're on the air."

"Alright, I'm on the air! Look out ladies and gentlemen, we're coming in for a landing, but the landing gear didn't descend, and it's going to be a little bit bumpy. Please put your head between your knees and kiss your assets goodbye!"

"Look out Jim, Liza's back. Keep your finger on that buzzer, so we don't lose our license."

"Aw Toots, it's good to be appreciated. How's it hanging?"

"I can't complain, Liza. So, Honey, what's on your mind?"

"Well, Hunky Beefcake, I had a date this weekend—betcha couldn't have guessed that. So... we did the usual, dinner and a movie, and then I invited him back to my place for drinks and a little game of hide the salami..." The ooga horn chimed in. I was laughing even at the recording.

"Liza, you know I don't recommend fooling around on the first date."

"Who said anything about fooling around? I was seriously gonna get some. I mean you should'a seen this guy. We didn't make a love connection or anything, but he was freakin' hot! I think his I.Q. and his shoe size were equivalent, but that wasn't the measurement I was worried about, if you know what I mean."

"Liza, you know we've gotta keep it PG here, Darlin'. Am I to understand this hot guy was a let down?"

"Bingo Babe! He was like one of those big old firecrackers from the Fourth of July. I mean I was all ready. I unwrapped it. I lit the fuse, and it went up... but then it fizzled. Nothing happened. No ooh. No aah. No colorful sparks. Not even a little pop, and there was definitely no bang—not a bit of banging happened this weekend." The sound of fireworks went off in the background, thanks to Jim.

"I think I'm hearing you loud and clear, Liza dear. Am I sensing a little buyers remorse?"

"No Candy Cole, you're sensing frustration of the sexual kind." A cowbell rang from the sound booth. "I mean I thought we had something going, but then he backed out. He told me he would call me, but of course he didn't."

"So, who paid for the date, Liza?"

"I always go dutch on the first date. I know you advise against it, but I really like having the level playing field. Besides, then I'm free to order steak and lobster if I want to, and I don't feel like I owe him something."

"You should never feel like you owe a man, just because of what you order. Don't you feel like you deserve steak and lobster?"

"Of course I feel like I deserve steak and lobster—and the best wine in the house too. But if I have to look across the table, and see all the color drain out of some poor loser's face, then I just might hurt him. You're not advocating I stick a fork in some guy's throat, are you Sugar Britches?"

She had me laughing, both on the air, and while I listened to the recording.

"No Liza, I'm just saying that it might be a good idea to make your date step up, pay the bill, and treat you like a lady."

"Listen Black, that would suck big ones! If I wanted to be treated like a lady, I'd let my mom fix me up. I want to go out with a good-looking hunk of meat and spend dinner eating great food while I gaze at his pretty face. Then I want him to take me someplace fun—maybe dancing, a movie, a karaoke bar... even bowling. At the end of the night, I want to be hot, sweaty, satisfied, and in a position to ponder what my name would look like, tattooed on his chest. I'm no lady."

"O—kay. Remind me again why you called, Babe."

"I'm getting tired of the dull date dilemma. I just don't understand why men go all the way up to the kissing and heavy petting..."

"Come on Kitten, keep it PG."

"Fine, Dudley Do-Right—I can do Pregnant Gerbil." She cleared her throat dramatically. "I just don't understand why men plow the garden, plant the seeds, and even do a great job of keeping them moist, but take off when it comes time to harvest the veggies. I've got some cantaloupes that need attention, and my tomatoes are about to burst."

"I think I'm getting the picture, Cupcake. It sounds like as soon as things turn serious, your date decides he's only interested in being your friend."

"Ouch! The friends only curse is terrible! Is there a cure for me, Doc? I mean I'm running out of batteries, if you get my drift."

"Uh... yes Dear I get your meaning. You know, this is usually not the problem I deal with on my show. I'm usually giving advice to woman who want to find love, connect with someone special, and build a committed relationship. Trying to figure out why a guy would rather be friends than...um..." I had left a pause there, which was deadly in radio.

"Why Mister Black, I do believe I've left you speechless!" The woman laid on the southern accent with exaggerated heaviness. "Might I suggest 'feed the kitty,' if y'all can't come up with the right euphemism?" I could hear her laughing in the background.

"Liza Darlin' you are one of a kind, that's for sure. But let me ask you this, how do you usually meet your dates?"

"I usually meet them with a big smile and a warm hug, Sugar Lump."

"No I mean, how do you meet these men the first time, before you go on a date?"

"I have all sorts of ways. I mean I don't resort to computer dating—at least not yet. But I have friends who fix me up, I meet them through my work, and I meet them when I'm out and about. If I see a man I like, I smile and chat him up. If he's single, I'll ask if he'd like to meet again."

"So, you're the one who initiates the contact, and the one who asks him out?"

"Yes. Is there a problem with that? I mean, if I waited for the man to make the move, I'd be alone on a lot of Saturday nights. I'm a big believer in going after what you want."

"I would agree with that, except when it comes to dating. Men don't want what comes easy to them. I mean they will take what's given, but they won't appreciate it—am I making sense?"

"I think I'm hearing you. You think I'm making it too easy on them. You think I should pretend I'm fishing, and lure them in, rather than scooping them up in my net, oh Master Bait-er?" She got me on that one, and I snickered out loud.

"I'm not sure I agree. I mean, I played that game for a few years, and it didn't work out so well. I spent a lot of time, trying to smile and send signals with my eyes, but the only time I got asked out, it was by someone who wanted to examine my eyes!"

"So, if it's not that you're casting too wide a net, then maybe you're just coming on too strong? Even if you ask him out, that really shouldn't have anything to do with how the date goes. You sound like a delightful person, with a lot of confidence and a great sense of humor. But maybe your dates are a little intimidated by you? If you put yourself in the position of being in control of everything, from asking him out, to paying your own way, it could feel like you have an agenda. In fact, you've said as much, with your plan of dining, dancing, and doing the horizontal bop." I had to be more careful with my euphemisms.

"If you put that kind of pressure on a man, he may indeed try to live up to your expectations, but find that he suffers from test-taking anxiety."

"So, Wise One, you're saying that I'm scaring the poor boys?"

"I'm only guessing here, Liza, but I think it might help if you don't have a preconceived idea of where your date will wind up. If you relax, and allow the man to set his own pace, then maybe he will be inspired to start the seduction. You could look at this another way: If a man were to look at his date with the goal of having her in bed by the end of the night, most women would be gone as soon as that became clear."

"I've got an idea, Cole, how about you give those horny men my number?"

"Liza, you are going to get me in a lot of trouble." I laughed on the recording. "My best advice for you, is to dial back on the full court press, and take some of the pressure off of these guys. Don't go on a date with the notion that you're going to have sex. I mean there are ways you can guarantee that, but you don't really want to go pro, do you?"

"Hmmm..."

"Liza?"

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking! I take it by pro, you mean someone who gets paid to do the wild thing? I mean you're not just talking about someone who's really good at it, are you?"

"Ka-ching!"

"I should've known where your mind was going. Shame on you, Mister Black." I was able to laugh about it in hindsight, but at the time it irritated me that she'd lead me down that road and then blamed it on my dirty mind.

"Well Liza, I hope I was able to help you, but I'm afraid we're out of time. Maybe that's good advice we can all take away. Perhaps it's not a good idea to set out on a date with a preconceived notion of where you will wind up. Take some of the pressure off of your date, and let them be who they are, and see where it leads you. Until next time ladies and gentlemen, keep your pants up, your skirts down, and your hearts open—unless they're coal black like mine."

That was my sign off, and had been for the past two years. I wondered if I'd be able to keep it, with all the changes the new Program Director was making. Julie Weiss seemed to be determined to turn my hair gray. She was barely two months into her job, and already she'd fired three people, all men, and then brought in three new women to replace them. The men she'd fired had been slackers who weren't pulling their weight, but the women she'd put in their places weren't much better. It was becoming clear that anyone could be replaced.

I used to think my job was secure. I had the coveted evening drive time from seven to eight thirty, and I kept our market share at about nine percent with my show. But the owner was looking at retirement, and hoped to sell the station. The right buyer could secure our futures, but the wrong one could radically change the station, and let us all go. Julie was supposed to make sure we attracted the right buyer.

She was the reason I was at the station on my weekend off, listening to my program recordings. She had come up with an idea to run some crazy dating game on my show. Of course it was known that I was single, so she thought it would boost ratings to have me go on dates with some of the women I'd given advice to over the past few months. These would be filmed dates, and excerpts would be shown on the local news program, and played on the radio. I'd of course protested, but Lou, the general manager, had gone along with her idea.

Along with this bright idea, she'd changed my show to a two hour format, and moved it to the eight to ten spot. My drive time slot was taken by a new D.J. who played upbeat rock music, and slid the commercials in with her quick northern accent. The numbers for my show dropped off, but this dating game was supposed to change that. I thought it was more likely to get the station sued.

A/N: I must be insane, since I'm going to attempt to write and post four multi-chapter stories at the same time. Two in fan fiction, and two will be original and posted here. I need to start pushing my daily word counts again, and it's my hope that at least one of the two I'm posting here will be good enough to publish. In these two new ones, I'll be minding my language and dialing back the sex (but it's not likely to disappear entirely.)

So, let me know what you think of Cole black, and if he's not your type, maybe you'd enjoy my Missed Connections a little more. Thank you for reading, and I appreciate all responses. Thanks for the typo alert JPB!