Hannah momentarily entered my life while Christie and I were not in good terms. I met her at a social gathering.
“You know I researched scientology for an assignment once,” I told her. “I wanted to be like one of those clever types who make fun of odd belief systems. So I went to one of their presentations so that I could report all about all the weird ways they would try to brainwash or recruit me. But you know what? Nothing happened afterwards. I was really disappointed. They read a few passages from a book and that’s it.”
“What do you mean, ‘that’s it’?” Hannah asked me, picking up her phone.
I shrugged. “They didn’t give me a personality quiz, they didn’t give me a follow up call. Not even an email to at least hint that I should join them. So I started thinking, ‘Am I ugly? Could they tell I was poor? Why wasn’t I good enough?’”
Hannah didn’t reply – she was too busy texting.
So I continued: “How about you? Did they recruit you?”
She scowled and laughed at me. “I’m a scientist. Not a scientologist.” Still laughing, she looked back at her phone. “Oh my gosh I have to tell my boyfriend this.”
“Fuck you,” I said with a smile before looking for some free food.
Show I’m still watching: The Young Pope