April 27, 2014 | 1:45 pm
This article originally appeared on VICE.
The calls started when I was a junior in high school — always in the evening, always after The Simpsons and always with an older gentleman on the other end of the line.
“Charles, there's someone who wants to speak you,” my mother would yell from the kitchen.
She showed no concern as she handed me the phone, no alarm in her eyes over all the calls she was getting from strange middle-aged men looking to chat up her vulnerable teenage son.
That's because these creepers called themselves “colonels” and “sergeants,” which lent authority to their predation. These men were military recruiters — and the bed they wanted to get me in was housed in some barracks.