I Was a Victim of Child Slave Labor (well, for 3 hours)

The video below shows where I grew up (that brown house in the midwestern paradise known as south-side Chicago). I'm telling a story as I'm driving but it cuts off so I thought I'd tell the complete story here. When I was about 11 or 12, a guy approched me while I was out delivering newspapers and asked if I wanted another job. He said I could make more money working for him than what I was doing. I told him that I'd think about it and he handed me a card with his name and number on it. The next day I decided to give him a call and he gave me directions to his house. (Before I go any further... no I didn't get 'touched' or anything like that.)When I got there he asked me to fill out some paperwork and than asked me how much I wanted to make. I just remember him saying "Is $1.25 an hour okay? It adds up, trust me." While my brain wanted to say forget it, for some reason all that came out was "Ahh..I guess. Sure." Next thing I know he walks me down into his basement where I see maybe 10 or 12 other kids around my age standing around tables doing various tasks like stuffing envelopes and doing data entry. I was given the job of stuffing cardboard tubes with letters and affixing mailing labels to them. Not exactly hard work, but I just remember thinking, how long does he expect me to sit down here? Should I tell my parents about this job? Every fifteen minutes he would come down and berate one of us for no real reason. He made one of the girls cry. His breath smelled really bad. He was like a combination of my creepy uncle and a teacher at our school that everyone hated. Twice he yelled at me, first for sitting on a chair while stuffing these tubes, and the second for reading what was on the mailers (At the time I didn't understand the letter, looking back now I think it was some kind of pyramid scheme). After about 3 hours I asked to use the bathroom and he told me "Make it quick".  So I decided to quit, but not before dropping a deuce in his toilet and forgetting to flush. I left and never told anyone about this guys little neighborhood work factory. About a year later I was at this gas station my friends and I would go to after school to hang out and as I'm pulling change out of my backpack the card that guy gave me falls out. I show it to the lady working behind the counter and tell her my story and she see's his name and says "Yeah, I know that guy. He went to prison about six months ago for scamming elderly people out of their savings." TTFN.