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Why I'm not a Scientologist.

I've been seeing a lot of Leah Remini stuff around lately because of her new book. This reminded me of something that happened to me. 

A story about me

Once I was living in Boston alone and I was super lonely. I would often try to find different things to do during the day to pass the time. 

So, one day I saw a flyer about coming to the Church of Scientology to see a movie. I went. It was in this beautiful brownstone house right in Boston. When I came in, there was a display case with all of L. Ron Hubbard's books and other Scientology things that could be purchased.  It was like a little store and not like a church at all. The couple behind the counter wore black turtlenecks and skinny pants and had necklaces on the outside of their turtleneck. They looked like they were right out of an Audrey Hepburn beatnik movie. I was just about to turn to leave because it was so weird, when they suddenly focused on me. After a few quick introductions, they whisked me off to a room with several chairs lined up facing a screen. Then they told me they'd see me after the movie. The lady left first and then the man slid out the door and the lights went out. I was in complete darkness. I tried to see my hand in front of me, but couldn't. Then (just like in the start of Close Encounters of the Third Kind), there was a loud musical boom and the movie started. I jumped, my heart was racing. I don't really remember the movie too much because I kept thinking someone was going to come behind me with a  hypodermic needle and drug me. I could see a bit better from the light of the movie and so I kept looking around my feet to make sure I didn't see any hands. After the movie they gave me a tour of each room in the house. As we rounded one corner, I saw a door to the outside so I said (in an inappropriately loud manner), "I have to go RIGHT NOW!" and I ran through the door. I ran all the way back to my house because I was certain they were following me.

And that is why I am not a Scientologist.

Comments

  1. I have a similar, but less creepy story about trying on an identity when I was new to Columbus and lonely. It involves a marginal church, but it was not dark and I was somehow able to gather my nerves and walk out in the midst of the service. Knowing what you're NOT is an important step in knowing what you ARE.

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