Robbie and other bad memories

If the book doesn't totally stiff, there may be another book in my future. I started working on it last week. I won't give away any details, but one of the stories I'm basing it around is on the rabid nun website www.rabidnun.com. It has to do with a lot of awful jobs I've held over the years. The newspaper story that the Rabid Nun book was based on was one of those.
As I was writing about the teenage traumas that caused me to behave badly later, I was discussing the "Spit Pit" at my junior high, and how the real guys from Barry Levinson's movie "The Diner" used to push us younger boys down the concrete steps that led to a locked door to the basement of the school, off the playground. As soon as we got far enough down the steps, they would spit on us, hence the name.
One guy who hung with them in high school later became a friend of mine. I called him Robbie when I wrote my only published short story. I passed it off as fiction, but in fact, it is real. It's a twist on my tabloid stories which were fiction but I passed off as fact. Every word in her letter is true.
What's wrong with me? Here's the piece:
ROBBIE

Robbie dreamed of nuns with fangs again. He didn’t know why. He had fallen asleep with the vcr on. This time it was the Jessica tape. “Jessica wakes up & dresses for work in sexy sheer dark brown stockings & garterbelt, She pees for you,” it said on the tape box.
The nuns were devouring bats before an altar.
Next to the bed was a letter Robbie had received today. It was in a pink envelope. It was from a girl named Laura in Phoenix, Arizona. She had enclosed a picture of herself, clothes on, in a sexy pose.
“I don’t know why I wrote back,” Robbie told a friend. He really didn’t know. He liked the personals. He was looking for whores who advertised. His ad read:

FEMALE WANTED!
to be
“ROBBIE’S GIRL”

WHO IS ROBBIE?
· LAWYER
· WRITER
· TV PRODUCER
· AND WEALTHY!!

“ROBBIE” WANTS A NICE GIRL
35 OR UNDER
NO TALLER THAN 5’5”
SLIM
AVERAGE LOOKING OR BETTER

DON’T DELAY!!

Her reply letter was pathetic. Eleven small typewritten pages, and on the first page was a picture of a kitten which she had outlined in black.
“My goodness, there’s so much that I’d like to tell you. As I sit here I feel like telling you the story of my life—and I will if you give me the chance. When I was sixteen I lost my hearing but I can talk and read lips so I manage to get by. Still, I am deaf. Do you think this will make a difference?
“Right now my life is all jumbled up, to tell you the honest truth. When I finish my school this summer I will be moving back to Bethesda. Both of my parents were killed in a car accident when I was fourteen, so I don’t have any real family anymore.
“But the thing that’s all jumbled up is I’ve just learned that I have to pay $173 more on my tuition and this is making a mess of everything. If I can’t pay, I don’t get my diploma and if I don’t get that then I can’t my cosmetology license which means I can’t work.
“Isn’t this a mess? Do things like this ever happen to you, Robbie? Sometimes I think they only happen to me really.
“Now I’m going to do something which might displease you but please don’t feel that way, ok? I just want to know if you would like to help me out with $15 or so. Now you don’t have to, you know.
“And Robbie, I know this is not a very good way to start out a relationship (it’s a horrible way, isn’t it?) but it’s just that my life is like this now—flat broke but not down and out!!
“I’m not really too good at writing letters so I’m not quite sure what to say now. But if you could ask me questions (about anything really) then it would be fun getting to know each other that way.”
Robbie didn’t want this. Robbie wanted a girl he could tie up. He kept reading.
“I don’t know if I’m the woman you are looking for, but I would like to be considered. And if you should find me not suitable, I’ll understand. I feel if someone should truly try to touch my heart and my soul and my body, then I will be drawn to touch them in the same loving way.”
Robbie couldn’t stand it. He wanted to spit. He couldn’t stand the dream, either. The nuns were about to eat him alive. Her letter continued.
“Let me also tell you that I feel very bad about asking for a helping hand. I’m really not that kind of person. I would appreciate any thought you might have of me. Please understand.”
Robbie couldn’t deal with this. He just wanted his thirty dollar whores. He just wanted to be able to beat them and make them tell him they were vermin, and then put them in a cab. But he continued reading.
“Do you think it’s still possible for us to become friends? I would like that very much. I would really be grateful for a few kinds words from someone special who would want the same…so Robbie, I hope you will write to me. I will try very hard to overcome the differences we might have between us.”
The girl’s letter was in response to Robbie’s reply to her ad in the personals. She had liked it. This was unusual for him. Even his girlfriend of eight years use to find money in her underwear when she left his apartment on Sunday afternoons. Robbie was not in the business of pleasing anyone but Robbie. Robbie was strictly retail.
Handwritten in purple was “Love, Laura. P.S. I have black hair, green eyes, weigh 115 lbs and stand 5’3” in m stockings. Also, I’m staying at this place for the deaf (it’s kind of a dump, really) so please write to me Robbie. I’m waiting.”
She wrote her address at the bottom and added, “I also want to love.”
The next morning Robbie called his friend and gave the letter to him. After he got off from work, Robbie went to the bar, came home with a thirty dollar whore, tied her up, beat her, paid her, sent her home and went to sleep.
Laura cried herself to sleep at the home for the deaf.
Robbie’s friend stayed up all night reading and re-reading the letter. He couldn’t bear the weight on his heart. He couldn’t even show it to his wife, and as he listened to an elegy on the radio, he hoped that Robbie’s dream of being devoured by nuns would come true. He knew that Laura’s dreams of Robbie would not.
He called Robbie the next day and told him to send the girl the fifteen. Robbie said no. His friend said, “Then I’m going to steal it from you the next time you get dead drunk.” His friend went home and wrote Laura a letter.
Robbie would never get his hands on her.
Robbie didn’t want her anyway.
Robbie was having a dream about nuns with fangs again.