I was not the typical American girl from the typical family. In fact I was quite the opposite. I was born in a poor family. My mother was always down on me, I think she hated me from the time I was born.

My dad killed himself when I was two. so my mother was stuck raising me and my two brothers. From the time I was born, I was a skinny, stringy brown hair girl. Skinny was not even the word. My arms were like pencils and my legs were not much larger. The ribs of my chest were larger than any breasts I had. My face was so boney that my eyes were sunk in my head.

I looked like a malnutrition kid you see in those hunger ads on TV. The kids at school teased me, my brothers teased me, and I was the laughing stock of the community. My mother never teased me, she just always put me down, like I was always in her way. At age 15, I met my first guy. He soon left for the Army, and I never saw him again, but not after he left me pregnant.

When I delivered a baby boy, my mother hit the ceiling. “Linda, you cheap little brat,” she screamed. “I can’t afford to feed another mouth. Get a job or get out. I always knew you were a loser.” So at age 16, I quit school and began looking for a job. In a few days, I landed a cashier job at the local grocery store. My mother still complained, but took care of my son so I could work days.

My only night life was being with my little boy, while mom raved and called me a tramp. When I had enough money, I paid her rent and bought a broken down old junkyard car. When I had enough gas money, I would drive around with my son to get away from my nagging mom. One morning, this guy came through my check-out and spoke nice to me. “Aren’t you Linda?” he said. “Do you know who I am?” “Sure,” I said. “You are Mr. Penn. Everyone knows you own the car dealership in town.”

“Could I talk to you a minute?” he said. “Perhaps when you get a break?” At mid morning, I met him outside the store. “Why do you want to talk to me?” I asked. “I was in here the other day,” he said. “I heard you telling someone you were having trouble with that old car. You said you had no money, so I thought I could help.” “You?” I said.

“Why would you want to help someone like me? Is this some kind of joke?” “No joke Linda,” he smiled. “To tell you the truth, I find you sexy, and I thought maybe we could work something out. You provide me sexual favors, and I will take care of your car from now on.” “You want to have sex with me?” I laughed. “You’re joking. No one would want someone like me.” “I would,” he said. “If you will have sex with me, I can pay for lots of things you need.”