Recently, Magoo asked me about my S.O. 'freeloaders debt' in a private message. I'm afraid I went off on a bit of a rant, as I had had a particularly outrageous experience relating to all of this. I hope she forgives me for sending such a long response.
Anyway, though I have related most of it before, I thought those who hadn't read it might find this story interesting. So, I present it here for all to see. As outrageous as it is, I assure everyone that every word is accurate. Who could make this shit up, anyway?
Here it is;
To answer your question; Although I gave about 800 bucks to Bent to pay off my Riverside Mission staff freeloaders debt to get into the Sea Org, because I had not finished my five year contract, I never gave a dime to the Cult after that.
I was contacted by a Flag representative after I left the S.O. I mean, I just left. I won't call it a blow; they can blow me.
It was kind of weird, considering all the stories I hear about other people, but I never had to do any ethics crap or anything. They just promised me that If I came to Flag and did construction for them, they would credit me 10 dollars an hour toward my S.O. debt, pay me 35 bucks a week, (this including 'engineering pay') and provide room and board. I signed on for one year. I was told that conditions at Flag were the best, and I would only be asked to work a regular forty hour week.
My one barrier was that I had a German shorthair dog, and wasn't willing to part with him. They came up with a handle; there was a guy who kept a dog in the parking structure, and he agreed to let Rufus stay with him, and I could visit and take him on walks and such during my time off.
It turned out that Rufus was too big and boisterous to be chained up in this guys small space, as this guy only had a little foo-foo lap dog, so this was dumped in my lap!
Well, trying to be a good cultie, I tried to take responsibility for what was actually their blunder, and I found a local house full of college students who agreed to let Rufus be chained up in their back yard. It was near the bay, had lots of shade and grass, and Rufus had a travel crate for his house, and I fixed him up with a dog run chain, giving him a good deal of room to move around. I thought it was ideal.
The problem was, Rufus disagreed, being a house dog, and howled for me all day and night when I wasn't there, so he got shipped off to the dog pound. I had to take a bus to retrieve him, pay a fee, and then walk many miles through the Florida heat with him to get back. They told me I still couldn't have my dog in my room at that motel by the bay. What was it's name? The one with the round swimming pool.
I kick myself to this day for not telling them to go fuck themselves, and I'll be in my room with Rufus until they figure out how to handle this, but I was still trying to play ball, so I tied him up to a stair well rail near my room, the only place anywhere near it, and went to work like they were pressuring me to do.
I was informed that day that he had fallen down the stairwell, and hung himself by his chain. I don't know if it was an accident, or someones handle, though in all honesty, it probably was Rufus just trying to get free. Still, it was those bastards and bitches fault for misleading me about the whole scene and then just laying it in my lap when I got out there.
They tried to not pay us the extra bucks promised, as the idiot in dispersal claimed I didn't qualify for engineering pay because I wasn't working on engines! Shoving a dictionary under his nose allowed me to get the extra money that week, but soon it stopped, and I just gave up. I had a couple grand in traveler's checks with me, so I had a good time during my off hours fooling around with this Canadian staff member I met.
The quality accommodations I was promised started off OK, as I had a private room at that motel, but I was soon moved into another smaller, shabbier room at the same motel, which quickly filled up with five other guys, all living in one room with bunk beds.
The food was not too bad, except for a few weeks before and after some huge dinner put on for staff with ice sculptures and all, around Christmas, I think.
Then, after a couple of months, they came up to me and told me because the lobby needed to be rushed through, I was to work overtime at night, seven days a week till it was done.
I'm very proud of the fact that I told them to shove it. I had had enough, and no matter how much they tried to shame me with the whole 'everyone else is doing it' bullshit, I refused, and just left every day after eight hours. They said that forty hours only a week wasn't in writing in the contract I signed, so I had to do it. I informed them that my brother the lawyer says that verbal agreements are legally binding, particularly with so many confirming witnesses. That shut them up.
Then, the final indignity hit; I got a phone call from ASHO day, informing me that anything I did for Flag did not count toward my freeloaders debt with them! That was it. I informed them that unless I was presented with a plane ticket home, and double quick, I was getting in touch with my brother, who was a personal injury lawyer. I didn't care if they declared me interplanetary enemy #1. That worked, and I flew out of that insanity for the last time, which is more than I can say for my buddy Richard Hernandez, who had to hitchhike home!
More stories from that six months, but I've gone on enough. Sorry about that! I enjoyed ranting about it again, hope you found it worth your time.