Interesting how people see things. I had a little hazel-eyed, curly blond haired girl that called me "Dy-a-a-a-ady" (she IS Southern). She'd come running up in her princess dress and stride rite hightops (that daddy the Marine kept polished to a sheen) and pile on me. She's STILL my little princess to this day. She'd climb up,hand me a book and say "Daddy, read me story". It was always the same damned book too.
Your story sounds more like 1978 for me. Lived in Miami and being nice was NOT on my list. Rode a KZ-1000. Got the knee to prove it. Why I haven't had a bike since.