The day before I went to the Sheriff's Dept. in Tallahassee to speak to someone who was supposed to tell me wht was going on, I went up to the State Capitol to ask the Attorney General's office WHO had put a camera in the bathrooms at TCC, and WHO these people were in my classes who were obviously spying on me. I walked into the office and a secretary took my name, and asked me to have a seat. She disappeared into the back, and I waited. After a few minutes, a different secretary came out, and walked over to the desk, sat down, picked up the phone, and shouted, "HELLO, OPERATOR, OPERATOR!!" into it. This was obviously strange, because the phone had not rung, and I didn't see any of the buttons lit either. Then she told me that the Attorney General was a VERY busy man, and didn't have time to see me, but that if I would go over to a certain office at one of the downtown buildings, the Director of Consumer Affairs would try to help me.

I thought this was BS, from the moment she had shouted that into the phone like that, but I went over to the guy's office anyways. It was in the basement of a building, with only a paper sign on the door. I walked in, and saw only two desks and a few phones. A guy was talking on one of the phones about how he could get lots of money running stolen cars to other states. He was talking REAL loud, and told me to just have a seat for a minute. After a minute or two, he put the phone down, and asked who I was. I told him, and he said LOUDLY, "Oh, you'll have to wait for the CHIEF!!" He invited me to sit down at the "Chief's" desk. I did so. After a few minutes, a guy walked in. He was about six feet tall, with a short mustasche, and looked like he hadn't slept in about a week. He ploped down in the chair across from me, slumped over the chair, and just lay there staring at me. After a few moments, he pulled himself upright, looked me straight in the eyes and asked, "WHY are these people following you?" I was taken aback, as I had NEVER told them about that at the Attorney General's office, I had said that at the Governor's office, where I had gone the day before that to try to get some answers. A representative of the Governor, then Bob Graham, had listened to me say that, and before I could even explain the situation to him, told me bluntly that nobody would do that unless they had some kind of incredible reasoning behind it, and there WAS no reason. I found this to be an unusual thing to say, judging from the "supposed" fact that they didn't know me.

I almost jumped when this guy who looked like something out of a CIA spy novel asked me that. I said nervously, "I DON'T KNOW!!" Then, he leaned back in his chair and said, "Well, if they wanted to get rid of you, they would simply have WASTED you!!" Then he started talking a whole bunch of unrelated drug paraphenalia-type talk, which I took to see whether I was involved in drugs somehow. He went on like this for a few minutes, watching my face REAL closely, then he stopped. He looked disgusted. He pratically pleaded with me, "Come on, Gary! There must be SOME reason these people are following you!! Maybe you SAW something or DID something!! You must have done SOMETHING to piss these people off!" I was VERY scared about the whole conversation by now, so I merely said, "Well, maybe I saw something!" Then he asked me if I had ever taken down any license numbers of the cars that were following me. I told him I had made a list at one time. He suddenly sat straight up in his chair, then leaned way out across the desk and said sharply, "I NEED that list!!" Knowing full well what he was all about now, I merely said I didn't have it anymore. He really looked disgusted, and then he stood up. He told me he couldn't help me, but if I ever got bothered again, or saw any cars I remembered, to give him a call and he would run the licenses. He gave me a card on which was printed a different name than the one he gave me, Len Sprigling, and crossed out the name and wrote in his with a different phone number also. I could but guess who he REALLY was, and what he would do to the people who had been following me around if I gave him the list. I had NO doubt that this guy was with the CIA and that the whole thing was a complete setup. I was convinced of this a month later, when I walked back into that "office" and told him I HAD the list. He reached his hand across the desk and said softly, "May I HAVE it??" I told him it was in my head, and he said, "OH! GOOD MEMORY!!" Then he told me he couldn't help me, and to get the hell out of his office. I did so, but instead of leaving out to the street, I leaned down and took a drink of water from a fountain near the door. A few seconds after I had started drinking, he and his "partner" opened the door REAL fast and looked out. When they say me standing there drinking, they ran back inside and slammed the door. I ran back to the door, only to hear them talking OVERLY loud to each other, pretending they were busily involved in a "consumer" case. I knew what business they were in, though.

This convinced me that the entire Florida government had been subjegated. When I called the INFORMATION OPERATOR from a phone at FSU, after the failed attempt to see that officer the next day, in an attempt to get in touch with him, she asked me, "Have you ever MET Sgt. Parramoore??" This was the friggin' operator asking this! A few seconds later, two guys in track suits carrying walkie-talkies came running up and took down the number of the pay phone I was at. When they started walking away, I yelled, "YOU'RE CRAZY!!" at them, and then they broke into a trot, and ran to a car with an antenna on it, and drove away REAL fast. This sort of thing would become commonplace in the days to come. I would drive somewhere, and a guy in a suit would pull up next to me, and get out of the car carrying a walkie-talkie. Everytime I would go to a pay phone, and call a friend's house or my parents, someone would drive up with sunglasses on, and get out carrying a walkie-talkie, and just stand there eyeing me. One time, I had some friends go with me when I made a call at FSU to my parents, and they witnessed someone do just this.

The day after I tried to see Sgt. Parramoore, I went to the courthouse looking for him. I went up to his office, on the third floor, and walked in. I remembered though, what the operator had said to me the night before, and got what I was expecting. There was a guy in there all right, with two secretaries, who had a uniform on with the nametag and all, but who I soon had reason to doubt was anyone even remotely related to Sgt. Parramore. The moment I stepped in the door, one of the "secretaries" said to the other one, "OH GOD! I don't know if I can DO this!!" Then the two of them started picking up the phones in the office, and saying stuff like, "Oh, Sgt. Parramoore, there's a murder out on Lake Road!! Oh, Sgt. Parramoore, Mr. Hanson is out on bail!!" It was all pretend and I knew it and I think that maybe they knew I knew it, but had to do it anyways to make it all look good. Sgt. "Parramoore" would respond with, "Oh, DAMNIT! Not AGAIN!!" Then he asked me what MY problem was. When I told him "he" had told me to come by the day before, he told me he didn't know what I was talking about, and held his finger up and said, "I'm about THIS close to a breakdown today!! Go on and get out of here!!" I walked out. One of the "secretaries" followed me to the elevator and held it open for me. I told her I would wait for the next one, and she went down. Not as far as I would have liked though.

The next day, I decided to take matters to as far as I could go, and called up the Secret Service in Jacksonville. I told the agent who answered the phone the kinds of stuff that had been happening to me, but he was reluctant to offer any help. He told me that they only dealt with threats to the President's life. So I told him what my "classmate" had said about a "plot to kill the President." He said quickly, "Well, you just said the MAGIC WORD, Gary!!" He told me he would call me back the next morning and get all the details, and for me to make notes to myself to remind myself of all that had taken place so he could get it straight.

The next morning, I waited for him to call, but after two hours had gone by past the time he had told me, I decided to call the office myself. This time, I got a different agent, who asked me what my name was. He immediately told me that I was mistaken, and that they weren't interested anymore. I asked him if I could speak to the agent I had talked to the day before, and he told me that he had gone on vacation. When I pushed the point, he told me I was crazy and to go check into a mental hospital, and then he hung up.

When I told this last part to the people on GEnie, one girl begged me not to write any more of my story, because this part had scared her to death.
But it is the TRUTH...

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