Guys like me like to thing that we're fighting the Good Fight, and in a sense that's true. But boy, howdy - not like she's doing:
One night he watched me as I sat in the computer room in Indiana, wanting to be better informed regarding just what the hell I was doing wearing a full headset and my fingers flying across the keyboard of my desktop while making rapid notes in shorthand.This is a hard read, written by someone who can only be described as a heroine:
What was I doing? Pretending to be 14 years old.
I would clock in and go to the internet site I was trolling that night; a chat-room full of young kids, some in their teens, some YOUNGER, chatting.
The second I would arrive, my screen would be hit with splashes of colors. Tan was usually a confirmed child under the age of 17. These I would not answer. Yellow splashes identified those over 21 who were wanting to "chat" with LOTTA JOY.
Yes. That's where my online name came from - my years of trolling for perverts who were trolling for me: a young, innocent, 14 year old......or so they thought.
Red splashes signified men who were already being actively investigated.
The particular night I'm talking about, I opened a conversation with the young girl, while ignoring the man. I was aware she was stepping into dangerous territory and, as I had planned, the man "conditioning" her quickly turned his attention to ME. She was now safe.Actually, the word "heroine" doesn't really do full justice to this. And the feelings I had on reading this are best described as white hot rage. I can't imagine JayG's response, thinking that these scum might be after BabyGirlG. I expect that Jay would know precisely how to handle it, and I suspect that more than a couple of all y'all would drive up with me to help him.
When he requested we go into a 'private chat' and Joe started following the conversation, he ended up getting physically ill. I couldn't blame him. I always had the same reaction.
I wasn't too happy either, having the man I loved witness the things I had to pretend to be interested in, in order to lull the man into a sense of safety with a child.
Orwell said it well when he said that people sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf. Sometimes it's gentle women, doing a dirty but sadly necessary job.
If you only read one thing today, this should be the top of the list.