Bottom 3 Jobs, Pt. 1 Ventures in Scientology

1. Professional Scientologist- Yes, this sounds a bit absurd but the context sheds some light: I had been searching and searching for a part time job since I got to MI (Musician's Institute, Hollywood Blvd) and nothing was biting. Except this idle-eyed Scientologist, who practically bit me, trying to hand out flyers for a free "personality test," who had given me an idea...on a normal day, he'd be lucky if I was cordial with him. I had walked up and down Hollywood Blvd. multiple times a day for school. I lived on one end of the Blvd. (The apartments right next to the Scientologist celebrity church, come to think of it) and I had to cross the Mann's Chinese Theater, The Roosevelt Hotel, Kodak Theatre, etc. everyday, the whole sh-bang, and I had been hassled by many-a strange beings. I just wanted to get to class. But I picked (what was left of) his brain today because it was apparent that most people would publicly sever this fellow, day in and day out, just for handing out his flyers. What a shitty job. I concluded there would probably be some openings...

Soes I goes in and propose the idea of me handing out the flyers and they say that it is completely imperative that I become a part of their... church.... Now, herein lies the second reason I wanted to do this thing: I wanted to become like a spy on the system; act like they got me, you know?   So I don't remember the exact order of events, but I'm pretty sure they showed me The Tape first.  I wondered where the kicker is, what makes these people fall under this religion invented by a man who said years before that a man could get rich by inventing a religion. So, it carries on with a bunch of  the most clearly plastic malarky about having proper conversations and other nonsense,  throws in every celebrity Scientologist ever...and finally, I present, the kicker- Hah. I almost laughed out loud. It showed some image of the world spinning or something, with some triumphant music playing and said this and I paraphrase, but get the main idea: "You could act like you've never seen this video. You could also (I forget if he says "jump in front of a car" or "jump off a bridge" or some other gruesome death here). It would be stupid, but you could do it."

Wow.. First, their epiphany had this grotesque death attached to it, and then: this insult! How dare they insult all other noble(r, much nobler..) religion that has come before it, insult anyone who didn't immediately believe (or ever believe) this grade-A hullaballoo, completely void of real happiness and spirit.  Hah. it was hard not to laugh. I shoulda freakin cried...

But I walked out, with this look on my face like I just hard a meeting with the almighty her/himself. Like my mind was just really blown (to pieces...).

Then, there was more pointless nonsense: I took some weird like detector test administered by a real half-wit, that I was sure was fake.  Well, it just LOOKED fake. And I'm pretty sure I lied.  She asked weird questions like "Do I look at pornography?" Stuff to make me feel real dirty and inferior, I guess.

I rode around the city with some member of the church they must use to really drive it home with guys like me.  We saw all the goddamn evil industriatutions (yes, I just made that up) they've managed to establish all over Hollywood and Los Angeles.  Bleech, I wish I had thrown up in his goddamn suspiciously clean car.  

After all of the supposed fireworks, they laid out some very official-looking papers for me which I was supposed to sign. I signed a few, then...oh, how could I forget to ask? How did they not say? That is, "How much am I getting paid??"

"Well, it depends on how well the church does month to month.  It depends on how Scientology is doing, and how many books are sold. It could be lower than minimum wage,"  (exit:stage left I think) "Or it could be something really nice."

HA. Again with the holding of the laughter.  I didn't have the heart to end it here.  All these brainwashed droops, seeing me as a charismatic and bright-eyed young hopeful for their cause. (I had been acting quite well...) I couldn't just leave now. So I didn't.  I ended it all very pleasantly that evening.

And just didn't come to work in the morning.

They called and left all kinds of messages.  I couldn't tell them off.  Yet, something needed to be done.  My roomate, Kevin Kirker, the good natured fellow, the dig bat, he told em off for me.  See, Kevin was a real cool guy til he switched over. And, man, when he switches over, look out. I don't remember exactly what he said, but there were a lot of f-words and he never called back again.