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THE PESCADERO PAYCHECK MASSACRE

  • Writer: Boof du Jour
    Boof du Jour
  • Jun 18
  • 3 min read
They Promised Me Overtime, I Got Rat Shit and a Tent.
They Promised Me Overtime, I Got Rat Shit and a Tent.

PESCADERO, CA — I arrived on foot, hungover and underprepared, to what local officials described as a “licensed cannabis operation.” What I found was less agriculture and more hostage camp. Picture a Burning Man encampment with no drugs, no music, and a lot of dudes arguing about whether they’ll ever get paid.


At the center of it all stood Aaron Esquer Corrales and Roberto Perez-Flores, two 41-year-old entrepreneurs whose definition of a business plan apparently involved leasing a greenhouse, hiring 30 people, and not paying a single fucking one of them for over six months.


Welcome to Miles Ahead Ventures, a name that now rings like a punchline from a South Park episode.



QUOTE WALL: FROM THE GREENHOUSE TO THE COURTHOUSE


“We were told payroll was coming ‘after harvest.’ That was in June. It's April now.” — Manuel, trimmer turned whistleblower, sleeping in a broken Honda Civic


“They gave me a shovel, a tent, and a prayer.” — "Big Mike," who commuted from Salinas, only to spend 70-hour weeks surrounded by mildew and management fantasies

“They promised me equity. I thought I was getting shares. Turns out they meant sharerable mold exposure.” — Former cultivation tech, now working at a Panda Express



WORKING CONDITIONS: BRING YOUR OWN BEDPAN


Employees were forced to sleep inside rat-infested greenhouses outfitted with a single portable toilet, one camping stove, and a “break area” that was just an overturned bucket next to a cooler full of melted ice packs.


There was no running water. No safety protocols. No payroll. No fucks given.

“This shit made Fyre Festival look like a Hyatt Regency.” — My field notebook, covered in spiderwebs


The greenhouses themselves looked like they’d been designed by someone who Googled “greenhouse” once, then got distracted by a YouTube rabbit hole on sovereign citizenship. One structure had a ripped tarp roof. Another had a “restricted zone” marked by caution tape that said Happy Birthday.



SCAM-TO-TABLE PIPELINE


Corrales—allegedly the CEO—was arrested in Marin County. Perez-Flores made a court appearance and had the audacity to plead not guilty, possibly under the impression that wage theft becomes legal if you smile while doing it.


These two operated a white-collar sweatshop in full view of the state licensing apparatus, who were presumably too busy doing jack shit to notice the “employee break room” was also being used to store fertilizer and mouse traps.


Despite clear and sustained abuse—including lapsed workers comp insurance, sleeping in tents, and a shocking resemblance to the plot of 12 Years a Grower—Perez-Flores was released from custody. A preliminary hearing isn’t even scheduled until April 30, by which point the rats may have unionized.



THE STATE’S RESPONSE: “WHOOPSIE”


The California DCC has yet to release a public statement. Probably because this would require them to do something, which—as history shows—would be the first.


Labor violations? Environmental damage? Operating without basic human decency? Nah. But don’t you dare skip a line on your METRC manifest or someone from the Bureau will airlift in with a clipboard and a death glare.


Meanwhile, operators with actual compliance records are being denied license renewals because a Google Street View image from 2021 showed a parked car in front of the wrong door.



CLOSING THOUGHTS FROM THE MUD PIT


This wasn’t a rogue operation. It was an accurate microcosm of the legal industry’s entire wet fart of a labor system—where hype outpaces infrastructure, and workers are sold the dream of legal weed only to wind up squatting in greenhouses full of spider mites, chasing IOUs written on clipboards.


Miles Ahead Ventures gets the Boof du Jour "Golden Lighter With No Fluid" Award for labor relations so bad, they made Jeff Bezos look like Cesar Chavez.


If you’re looking for the future of cannabis farming in California, it’s here: unpaid, unwashed, and covered in rat shit.



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