Picket Report San Diego, 6 August 2000
Signs: Scientology, $360,000 Space Alien Cult
Scientology Says You're Covered in Dead Space Cooties Fliers: Xenu by Roland
Would you want a Cult in your town? by me
Fliers distributed: 6 The Best Laid Plans... The plan was to meet our New Hampshire guest, Ron, at Rubio's on 4th Ave. at 11:00 Sunday morning. However, his band played a gig the night before, so there was a chance he wouldn't show. I spent an hour preparing fliers, signs, camera, tape recorder...check, check, check, check! I called my neighbor before heading out to Kinko's, as he'd expressed an interest in picketing after falling victim to Shydavid and me during one of our stealth pickets last week. At Kinko's, there were OT powerzz at work; two copy machines wouldn't work, and the third one ate half of my flier. We finally got some good help, for which I'm grateful, and with five minutes to spare, made it to Rubio's. Parking is difficult on Sundays, so we ordered a couple of beers and waited on the patio. While we were waiting, the lady at the table next to us commented on our signs, so I gave her one of each flier. At 11:30 we walked up to the org. I decided to go up the back of the building so we could picket for a while without interference. The homeless man passed out on the sidewalk was in our way. As I've said previously, there is very little foot traffic around the org, and Jack wanted to see some live Scientologists, so we made a few passes by the front door. Just to let them know we cared! Our signs caught the eye of a guy passing on the other side of 4th, and he came over to inquire 'wuzzup.' He introduced himself as Devon, and told us about his girlfriend who answered their 'Help Wanted' sign and applied. She apparently gave it a go for almost a year. He told us she got out after attending some group function, at which she became violently ill and quit. Say 'Cheese! (with white clam sauce) At this point, a man emerged from the org with a digital camera. He was noncommunicative and rather grim. Jack told him that he was out of style, polo shirts went out in the '90s. He took our pictures silently, muttering to us only once, "You should get a life." Devon hoiked up his shirt so the man could photograph his nipples. The guy had no response, just a creepy blank look on his face. He finally left us when I mentioned Lisa McPherson, and remerged with the org. Devon told us that, while coming home from work late, he has seen busses pulling into the org around midnight several times. Very interesting and mysterious! Finally, he took off home to read the fliers we gave him. The grim and creepy man came back with his camera again. (Finally figure out how it works, dude?) and started again with the photography. I put the sign down and leaned on it as he took his shots. Behind the sign, I worked my camera out of the bag, turned it on, and SURPRISE!! Took two clear shots of him without the camera hiding his face! It didn't seem to enturbulate him much. His face never changed expression. He did leave after I took his picture, though. Act Two came out and hung around in a IAS T-Shirt. He started asking about our signs, to which I responded, "Unless you're an OT, I can't discuss it with you, as you'd ruin your case and get all PTS all over the place." "What do you mean?" he asked. I pointed to his shirt. "International Association of Scientologists? You know what I'm talking about!" I did waste time explaining the difference between religion and criminal abuse. He claimed to have been in only two years, and never heard of Lisa McPherson. I asked him if he thought he could get perfect eyesight and memory, and told him about Hubbard's demonstration with the basket and the eyeglasses, as well as the world's first Clear demonstration. He said he didn't believe being Clear would bring him those benefits! I told him about President Heber's little problem in Spain, the Lisa story, and hinted that he was in for a long, expensive ride across the Bridge to Total Nowhere. He was quite pleasant and polite, as was I, and shook our hands when he left us. He said his name was Joe. The street was quiet, nobody else came out to handle us, so after an hour we packed it in. We did give out two fliers on the corner by the org, but handed out the other four on our way up and back from the org. Jack was quite pleased to have seen them in action and get his picture taken, and wants to come along next time. As the evidence clearly shows, handing out fliers at an org picket is not as productive as a stealth picket. This is true. barb warr --
barb

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