The Jerk Next Door
When I was a child, we had a large family across the street, with several girls and three sons. They were all older than me, so I never paid much attention to them. I knew the oldest son was named Robby. Sometimes, I would see him playing basketball with friends and I never thought much about him. When I was eighteen, for some reason my mother started to bring up his name and telling me I should date him. She told me over and over that he had his own business and made good money. When I asked her what his business was, she kept saying he made good money. I had a job then and one day when I was walking home, I had new shoes and got a blister on one heel. I was about five minutes from home when a car pulled up to the curb and the window opened; it was Robby. He opened the window and asked me if I wanted a lift home. The blister really hurt, so I said yes. I got in the car and he drove up to the front porch of my home; he got out and came around to open my door. I got out and thanked him for the ride and, just as I was going up to the porch, he asked if I would go out to dinner with him later. I said yes because if my mother ever saw me saying no to him, I would never hear the end of it. When he came back to pick me up, I got in the car and he started to drive. We were coming up to a nice looking restaurant, but he drove right by. He kept driving past a number of restaurants and suddenly turned on to a narrow road with thick woods on each side. He pulled into the woods and stopped the car, reached to the back seat, and pulled up a case of beer. I told him I didn't like beer, and all of sudden he had his hands all over me. I slapped him and told him to take me home. He started telling me he would like to hire me at his business, and I would make a lot more money if I worked for him. Then, he opened his wallet and took out a picture of a naked woman. I said, "Take me home, now!" He did.
— Deirdre, 25