Mrs. Betsy Thornton had a problem. She knew that her 18 year old son Chad had an issue with girls, never having gone on a date or to her knowledge even interacted with a girl. She also believed from discussions with professionals that Chad was at the productive end of the autism spectrum; but she didn't think that Chad's troubles were anything clinical. Since she and her husband Greg were extremely wealthy she had thrown about everything that money could buy at the problem with no success so far. Then things got much worse.
When Chad was at his private High School the first week of his senior year she was looking for a book that Chad had borrowed from her a few days earlier and went into his spacious room. The book was sitting on his desk next to his High-End PC with attached dual 32 inch QHD Resolution monitors. By accident she hit the keyboard as she was removing the book and one of the 32 inch screens came to life.
The text and photos on the screen were disturbing. The words seemed to have a very sick view of women and the photos seemed to be candid photos of women in various forms of dress with nasty captions. A word that appeared several times as she scrolled down the website displayed was "Incel."
Betsy wasn't familiar with that term so she went to Wikipedia on her iPhone. The definition upset her greatly: "Incel (a portmanteau of "involuntary celibate") is an online subculture of men who define themselves as unable to get a romantic or sexual partner despite desiring one."
Betsy went to her own computer and did further research. Disturbing acts by Incels were replete in numerous media, and psychological analyses were unsettling. According to one scholarly article Incels typically manifested four tendencies of interpersonal victimhood: a need for recognition, moral elitism, a lack of empathy, and rumination (i.e., a tendency to fixate on negative internal thought patterns).
Someone in Betsy's social circle was used to dealing with only people similarly situated economically and was afraid to admit anything to others regarding a problem as serious as the one she apparently had with Chad. Therefore she was at a loss on how to proceed. After crying and rubbing her hands for a good half hour a germ of an idea formed in her brain. "I'll call Elsa," she said to herself.
Elsa Moore was the most out-there friend Betsy had had in college. Unlike most young women at the private college that Betsy attended Elsa came from an underprivileged background and had developed more "real world" experience than Betsy or any of her other friends. She had reconnected with Elsa only a few months ago at their 25th reunion and was surprised to find out that Elsa had moved to the same metropolitan area a few years ago. She had met Elsa for lunch a couple of times since the reunion and felt that she could trust Elsa not to judge her or Chad.
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As Betsy Thornton reached for her phone, across town in a decidedly less posh area, twenty six year old Mrs. Ava Wilson also had a problem. She and her husband Norm were stressed economically, in no small part due to the fact that Ava had recently lost her job as a receptionist at a manufacturing firm that was near bankruptcy. Ava was also stressed emotionally since her four year marriage to Norm was not progressing as she hoped and the bloom had certainly gone off the rose. In preparing for what she assumed would be another fruitless job interview since the employment market for people with her somewhat meager educational background (she had an associate's degree in physical education, not practical for most corporate jobs) was highly depressed she considered her athletic build a waste.
While Ava wasn't an Alex Morgan or Gal Gadot, probably 60% of hetero men who liked an athletic build in a woman would consider Ava attractive, 30% would consider her "hot," and the other 10% would probably consider her "plasma hot." Her failed attempts at modelling, public relations, and product promotion had harmed her self-image, but looking in the mirror she still had to smile because she hadn't gained a pound since she was eighteen and her stomach, ass, and thighs were muscular and tight.
The job interview was one that her mother's childhood friend, Elsa Moore, had set up for her. Elsa and Ava's mother had grown up as best friends in a challenging environment. While Elsa was able to escape her situation using her brains and wiles, Ava's mother never had. Elsa still remained friendly with her despite different economic circumstances as adults. After Ava's mother's death, and after Elsa moved into the same metropolitan area where Ava and Norm lived, Elsa tried to help Ava out the best that she could.
Two hours after looking in the mirror Ava returned to her apartment rejected and dejected; they needed someone with more and a different type of education than Ava had -- or at least that's the excuse that they gave. To Ava it seemed that they had agreed to the interview only to please Elsa, and that it was perfunctory at best.
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Elsa had rarely heard her friend Betsy so desperate when she answered Betsy's call. Elsa was having a hard time following Betsy's words, maybe because Betsy was embarrassed and was hinting at rather than relating what was troubling her. Exasperated Elsa said "Give me a half hour to clear some things up at my office then I'll come to see you; give me your address again..." which Betsy did.
When Elsa arrived at Betsy's house an hour later it was obvious that Betsy was seriously troubled. After five minutes of trying to coax out of Betsy what was distressing her Elsa finally said "Come clean or I'm leaving Betsy -- I'm willing to help but not willing to guess how I can!"
After a delay where Betsy wiped her tears from her face she took a deep breath and then said "I'm worried about Chad. I think that he's on his way to becoming an Incel. An Incel is..."
Elsa cut her off. "I know what an Incel is. Why do you think that?"
Betsy led Elsa to Chad's room; the computer was still on the Incel website and when the keyboard was touched the disturbing information came to life on one of the high-def 32 Inch Screens.
Elsa perused the site for more than a minute then turned to Betsy and asked "Is this the only concerning evidence?"
"No, Chad has never had any type of relationship whatsoever with a girl in his own age range, is borderline autistic, and seems to be getting more depressed as time goes on. Greg and I had him see various professionals over the last few years but nothing has seemed to help. I'm at my wit's end; I'm about to hire a prostitute to have sex with him, but that might just reinforce in him a poor view of women," Betsy continued and then started to cry again.
Elsa's mind was starting to get into gear when she heard the distinctive beep indicating that her cellphone had a text. Worried that it might be some kerfuffle at her office she glanced at the screen. The text was from Ava Wilson.
Despite her sophistication Elsa was just out-there enough to believe in serendipity. She opened the text; it read "Another disastrous interview; I'll never get another job; maybe some club needs a twenty six year old stripper!" followed by several anger, sad, and embarrassed emojis.
Elsa put her phone away and grabbed Betsy by the shoulders and shook her. "Enough of this fucking self-pity, Betsy; get your act together. I have an idea."
Betsy's demeanor immediately changed; she again wiped her eyes, got an inquisitive look on her face, and asked "What is it?"
"We need to sit down," Elsa barked, moving to the nearest couch and pulling Betsy down next to her. "What Chad needs is a tutor to tell him what women are looking for and to get him comfortable; someone old enough so he won't look on her as girlfriend material but young enough that she still is tuned in to what eighteen and nineteen year old women want."
"How would I find someone?" Betsy asked.
"Tell me how much you're willing to pay and I'll tell you if I have someone in mind," Elsa smugly smiled.
Betsy thought for a moment, then said "We spent more than $55,000 on unsuccessful professionals; if you think that there's a good chance of success with your approach we'd pay that much."
"How about if you pay his tutor $1,000 a week and if she's successful a $30,000 bonus?" Elsa asked.
"How would be define success?" Betsy asked.
"If Chad goes out on three legitimate dates with girls about his own age and expresses happiness about them seems to me to be a good measure. If he gets laid in doing so that would be complete success," Elsa grinned.
