I hate to do this, but it’s what an outlet does when they need support (and sometimes when they don’t). My finances have declined since my move to Spokane, and I haven’t updated people. I actively feel bad about most of the reasons, because it’s my indiscretion which caused them. Now, if things don’t pick up, I might have to get a minimum wage job – if I can even land one – or I might be in the same situation that made me move to begin with. Let me explain.
How I got here…
You can skip this if you want to cut to the chase.
So I grew up in the middle of the Southern California desert. The town I was in was dull, to say the least, and prospect-free at a mean. It had such low prospects that drugs were common enough sometimes people would call it “the meth capital of the US”. Not for nothing, either. Everyone wanted a thrill.
I was in and out of therapy, my whole upbringing, and all the medications and techniques they tried didn’t work. They tried until they gave up, and that was that. Another “problem child” the state couldn’t fix.
I also grew up in the sticks of this town, about 15 miles away from anything but a couple gas stations. I didn’t do well in school, and that was largely my fault. I could cite a terrible home life, but the truth is, I wanted to read Stephen King books more than work. I could’ve given you the rundown on why the Running Man movie is a treasonable offense which should result in hanging of all involved (and I probably will at some point), but most other things I don’t remember.
It’s my fault that I didn’t get grants and scholarships for colleges or universities. I could’ve. I was in the Gifted and Talented program, and the teachers were always ashamed at my waste of my talents. Admittedly, I did the “rebellious kid” thing, and did no work on purpose, which made a lot of state-enforced parent-teacher conferences happen. Didn’t help that most teachers didn’t give a shit about anything but test performance, but that’s not the point.
I had a group of friends the school didn’t like. Until they split lunches for dumb reasons related to lower funding, we were one of the biggest groups in lunch. Apparently, and I later found this out, administration thought we were a gang, and classed us as such. So that didn’t help what I’m about to explain.
In my tiny, nepotistic town, the people with the better grades got the jobs. College was an opportunity to improve that I also squandered, eventually dropping out. Repeatedly. But my mother was a regular at a local Jack in The Box, on good terms with the manager. At one point, I was searching in a “nearby” city (an hour and a half commute from my house) for a job, wearing a suit. We pulled into a JITB down there, and the manager was the one from the other. She’d moved recently, and complimented my look, to which I responded telling her I was hunting. She then simply offered me a job.
I didn’t want the job, but I needed a job. Nepotism was the way up in my town, and if I couldn’t get it there, I’d get it here.
So I worked there. And at first, it wasn’t too bad, because I was on register, and that was easy. They had a machine with courses in back, which we were supposed to take, passing quizzes in order to advance. I was almost never allowed to use this, as the hours and duties didn’t really permit it, and off hours, we weren’t allowed in back. What few courses I did get to take, however?
I was told daily to ignore them.
Washing your hands at an adequate temperature to kill viruses and bacteria? Others would complain it was “burning them” after I got done, and I was reprimanded. Cold, or room temp water only. Wanted to clean according to standards, not leaving anything on surfaces, and then sanitize, like the courses said? No way. Wanted a restaurant with clean equipment, a floor you could walk on without slipping, and no obvious, somewhat moldy sludge in some corners? Not gonna happen.
What’s worse, it was right in the middle of a lot of fields people had cleared for business construction, but never used, so the desert sandstorms would regularly blow in through windows and open doors, and even blow open doors themselves. Sand would be everywhere, a lot of the time.
Most of my coworkers were okay with things, and had a much better rapport with each other than they did with me. And this led to multiple incidents where obvious favoritism with tasks. Among other things. Can’t tell you how many times someone came in with a bill above 10, and by policy, I scanned all of em, only to have them call the manager. Or the times when they had a pre-existing relationship with a customer, like free coffee, that they didn’t tell me about.
Once, a toilet was clogged with a diaper, and… other things, and I had to reach in with a glove. Another time, a coworker had left a box of ketchup packs spilled below the counter, in a dank, damp corner, before leaving it when my shift started. I put another box down, and waited for the manager to get there to tell her about the spill. She shouted at me for not dealing with it, and told me I was to pick them up off the moist floor, and put them back in the serving box, with no cleaning, while policy states they should have been thrown out.
I felt like I might be killing someone with every new handful in the trash. And nobody objected – they sided with her, over my protests. But the truth was, they cared about their turnaround more than me. More than customers. You know that thing where someone in a drive through tells you to back up and come back to the window? You know how they sometimes park you? In my courses, it said not to do this. The timer was there for a reason. Wouldn’t surprise me if all restaurants that do this actually break rules. Except Sonic – you’re supposed to park there. The only rule Sonic breaks is that it’s never had a chili dog deal associated with a Sonic game release. Criminal, truly.
Other notable incident? One sticks out in my mind, which is that a new girl trying to get past the part of her life where she self-harmed was forced to wear the same short sleeve, humiliatingly green polo button-up we all had to, and this exposed her scars. The rest of the team was fine with her long sleeves, but the manager came in and immediately gave her shit. She broke down in the back, next to the course machine, for ten minutes, and was later fired. That’s the level of cruelty this place had.
I had constantly objected to breaking the rules, so much so that they started surreptitiously lowering my hours, until I could no longer afford anything the commute. I was no longer able to feed myself, much less pay bills. Something had to change. So I quit, to go back to college. Years later, I was informed of a class action lawsuit over this shitty employer, and all I had to do is nothing to be a claimant. I was happy to collect the check for $16, because even though it didn’t REMOTELY compensate me for my hardship, I just wanted to watch those motherfuckers and that cunt burn to the goddamned ground. There’s another one happening now, too. Maybe the check will be more than $16 this time. I don’t fucking care though – again… burn.
I had a car for my commute, but it broke down due to unaffordable maintenance cost, not long later. I went back to college, and constantly looked for a job that would take me, but I’m guessing the previous one gave me shit references, anywhere I applied was quick to turn me down. No money and no hope, I dropped out of college, again. I had become homicidal at that point, and I thought a change of scenery would be good. So I tried moving to a mountain community, where I similarly couldn’t get a job, so i had to move back down. Been working my ass off in odd jobs that don’t pay well, and in and out of assistance programs, ever since. I hate laying this all out there, but I think it’s necessary to frame recent events.
The whole time I was doing all this, I was blogging, tweeting, and otherwise posting, about what I was learning, and what I knew, about liberty. I even tried to start a Young Americans For Liberty chapter in my hometown, to no avail. And through it all, I’ve mostly not made a dime off any of it. But recently, I was about to be homeless, previous agreements expiring. I ran a fundraiser for funds to get rent in my hometown, so I could do a job there I’d actually been considered for. After months of nobody accepting after seeing my social media, my welcome was worn out at my friend’s who’d graciously allowed me to crash there for a couple months. I still had some of the rent money, but I was buying food for myself as part of the conditions of staying there. He lived even further in the sticks than I did, and the local store was expensive. With no prospects, things were looking dim.
So I was exhilarated when a longtime friend on Twitter chose to take pity on me. She had recently bought a large house, and the rent was precisely what I could afford. I began the process of trying to move, and started a new fundraiser. I called it “A Car Out Of Homelessness“, and the description was as follows:
Many of my followers may know that I’ve been in relatively dire straits for a bit now, and teetering on the edge of homelessness. So for the past two months, while my previous agreement had expired, I’ve been living at someone’s house, rent free. I’m extremely grateful to him, but my time here is almost up.
For the entire time I’ve been here, I’ve been probing a 200 mile radius of rooms for rent near me so I could pay the money already donated to me as rent, but the callbacks were sparse, and when someone did pick up, my not being military, a female, or gay, always seemed to be an issue with my possible stay. I’ve only been invited to physically meet with one person, and he’s well past my agreed “out” date at this place.
So when it came up with a long time mutual follower and definite mutual supporter that I could move Northward and survive this, I started a GM and made plans. Now, all I’d need is a car, and I’d pay for registration and insurance immediately. Cheap cars around here that could hold my stuff are $500-plus, a lube and oil wouldn’t be much more, and the insurance and reg would be limited. The rest would be for gas, the occasional cheap food, and if I get a significant amount over what I need, I could even visit people on the way.
But I can’t do any of this yet – that’s where you come in. And if this works, I have things in the works that would mean I could hit everything harder than ever upon arrival. Daily content production in multiple mediums, and many new ways to attack the system. Once I’m outta this place, it’s almost guaranteed that I could sustain myself. Being in the middle of the SoCal desert is not conducive to the long term success of anyone, much less an extrovert like me, and I will prove that, with your gracious support.
Thank you so much for considering my case. Here’s to the future.
Within not too long, the fundraiser was complete. I spent most of the money getting my things shipped, and the rest? A plane ticket to Spokane. I live here now, and where I thought I’d be out of the woods, it’s been a weird set of struggles.
First, there’s next to no cell service. Hard to make calls at all here, much less for the second problem – odd jobs here are not nearly as common as those in my hometown, and none are walking distance. Third, the internet here is barely internet. Fourth, I thought I’d have a car. The only one in my price range that ran, without thousands in repair costs, was a real clunker. Seats that were probably attacked by an animal, no stereo or speakers, terrible parking brake, squishy steering, leaky tires, a non-working driver’s window, and bad brakes, but at least it ran. Until I got it home. Now it’s a paperweight animal nest with a dead battery and a flat tire frozen to the ground in the driveway. Gonna sell it for scrap soon, because that’s all I can do. $500 down the drain. And with town at least a twenty minute drive away, I’m pretty much relying on rides from my landlord, and that’s super unsustainable. Most of my money is gone, and I’m back on rent. I’m lucky to not be sleeping in the snow. So much for “A Car Out Of Homelessness”.
This is where you come in…
I want to focus on doing this. I want to spend all day combatting the state. I even have articles in the chamber, ready to release soon. But right now, I’m not headed for success – the only thing I’m headed for is the underside of a bridge, if I’m lucky, and the local bridges aren’t occupied. I’m trying to stay as positive as possible, but it’s hard. And if this doesn’t start working soon, I’m gonna have to go on the hunt for a job, which likely won’t even go as well here as it did in my hometown, and might also end up with deluxe ditch life. I regret my choices up to this point, but ultimately, I can’t change them. If enough of you support me, using the methods below, I can promise multiple things:
- At least one 1000+ word article a day
- The Weekly Hellscape, in podcast form, and video presentation form, on all platforms I’m part of
- Moment of Rage returns, with the same deal, and I’ll gradually post all previous episodes in the same format
- The return of #ShitShootingSunday and #StateSmashPodcast, with the same deal as Moment Of Rage
- Twitch streams, so even when I’m relaxing, i can entertain you
- Cooking videos – keto, paleo, and vegan primarily
- Patron-Only hangouts and giveaways
- More. Shit-tons more.
But I can’t do this without you. I’m making 0$ a day, most days. That has to change if I’m to succeed. So here’s what you can do. I have a PayPal, Ko-Fi, or Venmo if this article has prompted you to help me pay rent I owe. For future rent and ventures, I have a Patreon, a SubscribeStar, a CoinBits, and a BitBacker. I also have a host of cryptos I can accept. I can also accept most any cryptos, but these are what I have set up now.
BTC | 1C8hmf4D8oMs5pFwb5vGjc9GkMEjcYcow6
BCH | qz3qh8fj0e0jm4w5aj6d4lne2qpew9cxtcszgqktr6
DASH | XwjM7HQwdgZc9xiaKx1gXQV6jP5Amy2cxB
ETH | 0x72c097d310Cbddd39554ccec06563f1dff693881
LTC | LXhzmuu28Tw9faZ2KksfGQS6mvFW7dC44R
SMART | SdGNyg7QU5p3VHerKcU1873QC5jXcBcb8G
If you choose to do this, you have my humblest, most extreme gratitude – this is a hard time in my life, but once it’s over, a lot of things can happen. I’m writing books. I’m concepting two video games, a beverage company idea, and an app. Hell, I can still make you graphics, a website, and more, if you want something outta the deal. I have the energy, but not the time or the money. You making this happen will change my life in an astonishing way, and this time, I’ll make sure I get it right. I’m done with excuses and failures. I’m done with waiting for success. All I need is a push, and this can happen. I just can’t keep doing it for free. Thank you for your consideration – if you read this whole piece, you’re one of the reason tears are close to my eyes right now. I don’t like writing things like this, but I’d rather be honest, and someone I know advised me to just lay it all out there. Anyway… time to make another piece of content, relevant to today, and get back to work.