It seemed only natural to him to pick glasses for their functionality rather than aesthetics.  There was no hiding his far-from-normal poor eyesight, so why choose a pair of designer frames only to be un-GQ with bullet proof lenses?  Besides, he could see up, down, left, and right better with the large aviator style glasses that came free with his insurance package.  He almost didn’t care that it automatically labeled him a card-carrying member of odd squad geek society.  Almost.  Whoever said that people grow up after college lied.  Once a loser, always a loser.  America has its own form of the caste system, and Jon is an untouchable.

Jonathan Knave stares at the cartoons push-pinned to the soft grey walls of his tiny cubicle.  He waits for the clock to say “5:00” so he can leave—he’s tired of pretending that he can’t hear his co-workers mimicking him by the coffee maker.  Mimicking him by the copier.  Mimicking. What the hell was so funny about his glasses?  He’d never get it.

At five o’clock he leaves his crappy job, walks down the crappy streets that lead to his crappy apartment in the crappy section of town.  Ten minutes into his walk, the sky opens up and heavy spheres spill into the street quickly forming small pools of vehicular excrement and fresh rain.  It’s too far into his walk home to turn back; he continues, stopping every few minutes to kick a puddle in the face.

Jon sticks to himself in a stench of sweat, sour clothes, and stale city rain by the time he reaches his apartment.  Casting a quick glance to his answering machine, he laughs audibly at the proud double zero.  Why does he even have a phone?  This is another thing he’d never get.  He strips down to his underwear, tosses his keys on the kitchen counter, and settles into the comfort of his computer chair.  Now it is time to slough off old skin and don a newer, more attractive one, but who shall he be today?  A popular high school athlete?  A successful small business owner?  It doesn’t matter; at least online, he has real friends that notice him for something other than his glasses.


Yahoo Chat Search Criteria: Female, aged 13-17, VA.
7,000 results.  He picks a few at random. These young girls are so easy to impress.  So what if people would chastise him if they knew he was getting cheap thrills from talking, lying to teenagers?  It’s not like he would ever meet any of them.  This is just a good escape.  Two of his “hellos” are met with “goodbyes,” but one girl…





VAStud23606: Hello.
MandaPanda13:  hi
MandaPanda13:  do i kno u?
VAStud23606: Not yet.  I’m a little nervous actually.  I’ve never done this before.  Anyways… I’m Jon, and you’re Amanda?
MandaPanda13:  yep
VAStud23606: Well, Amanda, you’re very pretty.
MandaPanda13:  aww…thx ur so sweet
MandaPanda13:  i wish boys at school thought so
VAStud23606: Give them time.  They’re not ready to see you for your beauty yet.
MandaPanda13:  ur so nice
MandaPanda13:  ur profile says ur 21
VAStud23606: Yeah. Is that a problem?
MandaPanda13:  no i think its kewl
MandaPanda13:  it means u can like buy beer n stuff
VAStud23606: Yeah. LoL. I guess.
MandaPanda13:  ugh
MandaPanda13:  brb
MandaPanda13:  dad is yelling at me
VAStud23606:  k
Autoresponse from MandaPanda13:  …i would twist the nife and bleed my achin heart…brb dads drinkin agn
VAStud23606:  Cool away message.
VAStud23606:  Are you there?
VAStud23606:  ?
MandaPanda13:  yea sy
MandaPanda13:  sry
MandaPanda13:  dad was yellin at me cuz I didnt clean the kichen lik he told me 2
VAStud23606:  Oh.
MandaPanda13:  yea
VAStud23606:  So, tell me about yoursef.
VAStud23606:  *yourself
MandaPanda13:  umm…like wat do u want 2 kno?
VAStud23606: ASL, I guess.
MandaPanda13:  14/f/va
MandaPanda13:  u?
VAStud23606:  What part of Virginia?
VAStud23606:  21/M/VA too
MandaPanda13:  harrisonburg near wv
VAStud23606:  Ah, I’m in Leesburg, so not too far away.
MandaPanda13:  kewl
VAStud23606:  So, are you in school?
MandaPanda13:  yea twin falls
MandaPanda13:  wat do u do?
VAStud23606:  I’m a student at GMU, and I’m the manager of a club up here.
MandaPanda13:  wow thats really kewll
MandaPanda13:  kewl
VAStud23606:  Yea. LoL. It pays the bills at least.
And this is where the fantasy takes over him.  He invents bizarre aspects of his life, convinces himself that what he says has actual merit.  When reality forces Jon to notice that his life couldn’t be further away from the lies he tells, it comes to him as a shock—the dingy brown carpet, a thumbprint on his outdated glasses, everything he can’t ignore kicks him into self-actualization.

Very quickly he becomes attached to the girl, and the girl grows attached to him.  He spends his days at work day-dreaming about coming home just to talk to her.  He fantasizes that at school, she does the same.

In a week’s time, the promised rain isn’t just a coat of stink and sweat: it’s manna.  It feeds him, invigorates him, and he almost skips home.  Actually, he does skip home, and Amanda is waiting for him.

VAStud23606:  Hi.
VAStud23606:  Hmm. I guess you’re not around.
VAStud23606:  I hope you’re not mad at me.
MandaPanda13:  not at all
MandaPanda13:  been busy
VAStud23606:  Hi!
VAStud23606:  How’ve you been?
MandaPanda13:  busy lol
VAStud23606:  LoL. You said.
MandaPanda13:  yea dads been up my azz
VAStud23606:  What’s up with that?
MandaPanda13:  i dunno
MandaPanda13:  he just drinks all the time
VAStud23606:  Well, that’s no good.
MandaPanda13:  and takes out bieng mad on me
MandaPanda13:  being
VAStud23606:  Takes it out on you how?
MandaPanda13:  idunno
MandaPanda13:  he just yells n throws stuff
VAStud23606:  Icky.
MandaPanda13:  yea
MandaPanda13:  its just gotten really bad recently
VAStud23606:  Hmm.
VAStud23606:  Where’s your mom when all of this is going on?
MandaPanda13:  umm
MandaPanda13:  its just been dad n me since i was little
MandaPanda13:  mom died when i was 4
VAStud23606:  Aww.  I’m sorry.
MandaPanda13:  yea i didnt really kno her 2 well tho ya no?
VAStud23606:  Yes. My father passed away when I was really young too.
VAStud23606:  Some days are good some days are bad.
MandaPanda13:  yea my dad gets that way sometimes
VAStud23606:  Hey you?
MandaPanda13:  yea
VAStud23606:  I love you.
MandaPanda13:  i think i luv u 2
VAStud23606:  You don’t know how happy that makes me hear you to say that. :)



It is obviously another lie that his father died when he was young, but he wants to relate so badly.  He tells himself that he would do anything to make the girl feel completed by him, with him.  He tells her that he would do whatever it took to rescue her from her situation.  As time goes on, the situation only gets worse.

Jon distances himself completely from his co-workers and doesn’t even notice their snide comments said in not-so-hushed tones by the coffee-maker.  For the first time in his life, he’s loved.  Really loved.



MandaPanda13:  hey u
VAStud23606:  Hiya!
MandaPanda13:  ive missed u
VAStud23606:  I’ve missed you too.
VAStud23606:  How’re things?
MandaPanda13:  things r things
MandaPanda13:  dad is gettin more n more unresonable
VAStud23606:  What’s he doing now?
MandaPanda13:  i don really wanna talk bout it
MandaPanda13:  hes just so angry all the time
VAStud23606:  Has he hurt you?
VAStud23606:  Cuz I have a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, and I have no problem coming up there to straighten him out.
MandaPanda13:  no no u don’t ned 2 do that
MandaPanda13:  need
VAStud23606:  Well, just know that I’m here for you.
MandaPanda13:  brb dads home agn
VAStud23606:  Kk.
MandaPanda13:  ugh hes so unreasonable
VAStud23606:  What happened?
MandaPanda13: nothin really he pushed me around a lil and gave me a lil smack is all
VAStud23606:  That’s horrible. He can’t get away with that.
MandaPanda13:  i kno
MandaPanda13:  i just want to get away
VAStud23606:  You need to be out of that situation. Isn’t there anyone you can tell?
MandaPanda13:  no i told a teacher last yr but she didndt beleive me
MandaPanda13:  didnt
VAStud23606:  Then I am going to help. Amanda, do you really want out of your house?
MandaPanda13:  yes
VAStud23606:  Would living with me be a better option?
MandaPanda13:  definately
VAStud23606:  How soon can you be ready to leave/
MandaPanda13:  after school tom? i can tell dad im stayin w/ a freind
VAStud23606:  Kk. Where do I need to pick you up?



Jon puts the final touches to the part of his apartment he is designating to the girl.  Oriental room divider: check.  New mattress, pillows, and sheets: check.  It still doesn’t seem quite feminine enough… A rapid succession of knocks at his front door jolts him away from his plans.  Other than the time he was a day late on rent, he doesn’t think he has ever had visitors, and he isn’t expecting anybody.  He does not really have time for visitors.  Amanda is waiting for him.  Counting on him.  But she isn’t.

“Are you Jonathan Knave?” asks a slightly-less-than-middle-aged man in a business suit.  There is a motherly-looking woman with him.  Jon presumes the woman is the man’s wife by the way she is so comfortable standing next to him, her breasts lightly touching his arm when she inhales.

“Yes.  Who are you?”

“Bill Chessman, and this is my wife Connie.”  A look of disgust is apparent on his face as he gives Jon the up and down.  After reading through his daughter’s chat logs, he knows the “boy” on the other end isn’t twenty-one, but he isn’t expecting a man close to his own age who lives like this.  In his mind, Jon is the worst possible outcome of a 14-year-old that is allowed absolute freedom on the net.

Chessman.  Amanda’s last name.  Impossible.  Amanda’s mother is deceased.  Her father is not this guy in the squeaky shoes.

Jon stares at the Chessmans blankly for a few seconds, and then lightening strikes.  Horror floods his face as he looks past them half-expecting a police entourage.

“We’d like to talk to you.  May we come in?”

There is no legitimate reason for him to say “no.”  He knows why they are here.  He steps aside from the door and goes to sit on the couch.  They follow.

“The conversations you’ve been having with our daughter are completely inappropriate.  They must stop.”

The woman called “Connie” closes her eyes and starts to breathe very slowly, but she remains quiet.  Jon notices that she has the same lips and cheekbones as her daughter.  Family resemblances kind of creep him out.  

“It seems that our daughter has led you to believe a few things that are glaringly untrue.  As you will not be communicating with her further, these mistruths are not important.  By the looks of things you too have not been honest.”

Jon nods non-committally.  This is like being at the principal’s office back in grade school.  He, the student. Bill Chessman, the prin-ci-pal, someone no one would willingly dub “friend.”  Same situation.  Blank stares and being unsure of where to look.  Answers would only get him in more trouble.  More importantly, Amanda had lied to him, but to what extent?

Larynx, pharynx.  Something is in his throat that is taking away his ability to talk.

“As you can clearly see,” adds Mrs. Chessman, “I am not dead, and my husband is not a work-a-holic boozer.”  

He almost laughs in spite of the seriousness of the situation.   Judging by Mr. Chessman’s business attire and briefcase, he feels that the later could possibly be untrue, but he doesn’t smell alcohol as described by Amanda.

The conversation with the Chessmans seems to go on forever.  They threaten police, attorneys, even SWAT teams and hitmen if Mr. Jonathan Knave ignores their demand to leave their “darling Amanda” alone.  Mrs. Chessman pulls a smallish baby book and a wallet from the purse in her lap.  She tells Jon Amanda’s life story from day one to present, and the Amanda he knows and the Amanda Mrs. Chessman describes are two different girls.

His carefully maintained sense of reality crumples in on itself.  Sinking into the old brown couch, he feels every spring.  How is it possible to be this uncomfortable in one’s own home?

Amanda’s parents are a wall across from him in chairs from the kitchen table.  They sit oddly stiff, too formal for their expensive shoes to be touching Jon’s faded dirty carpet.  Jon cradles his head in his hands for a long time after the Chessmans finish talking.  He can’t believe that a dead woman is sitting across from him.  He can’t believe that Mr. Chessman doesn’t reek of cigarettes and booze.  It is as if a brick is lodged horizontally in Jon’s throat.  No air.  No words.  Just a raw scratchy sensation that time dulls into a soundless throb.  

After the silence becomes tangible and sticky, the Chessmans show themselves to the door, closing it solidly behind them.  Mrs. Chessman uses her confident voice and angry eyebrows to convey that she really is serious about Jon leaving her precious daughter alone.  Or else.  If he hears this, he doesn’t respond.  He has been duped by a 14 year-old.  

What now?  His knees pop as he stands up to go lock the door.  Staring at his monitor, he ponders getting online, and before he consciously makes a decision, he’s searching.



Yahoo Chat Search Criteria: Female, aged 13-17, VA.
7,000 results.  He picks a few at random.  These young girls are so easy to impress.  So what if people would chastise him if they knew he was getting cheap thrills from talking, lying to teenagers?  It’s not like he would ever meet any of them.  This is just a good escape.   A few of his “hellos” are met with “goodbyes,” but one girl…


VAStud23606: Hello
VAStud23606: ASL?
dcchica420:  hi
dcchica420:  13/f/dc
dcchica420:  you?
VAStud23606:  18/ M/ VA
dcchica420:  oic
dcchica420:  and you want to talk to me?
VAStud23606:  Why wouldn’t I?
dcchica420:  i donno. i’m just so much younger.
VAStud23606:  Oh. I don’t choose my friends based on age.
VAStud23606:  But if it’s a problem, I’ll leave you alone.
dcchica420:  no. it’s not.
VAStud23606:  Cool. :)
VAStud23606:  I’m a little nervous actually.  I’ve never done this before…