Drugs are addicting. You know what else is addicting? Compliments. I played football in middle school and wasn’t really good, but I loved the sport. In 7th grade, our team’s only loss was because I let an onside kick bounce right between my legs. Fast forward a year later, one day before practice, I couldn’t find my shoulder pads and abruptly quit so I wouldn’t pay the $200 fine and became a runner. A true winners mentality. Anyway, in high school I joined the cross country team and one day a girl told me I had really nice abs and that compliment shot my ego to the moon and something I think about every time I run. Compliments are addicting.

This is my third entry and I really didn’t think it would get this far. It’s been neat hearing from friends, ex-lovers, and high school acquaintances letting me know they enjoy my articles. I’ve only written three posts so far and I’m already envisioning Judd Apatow stumbling upon this blog and offering me a job.

Man I hate intros. . You clicked this to see how I survived the Church of Scientology. I’ve heard all the stories, “They’re nuts! They lock you up and torture you! It’s a pyramid scheme! Why am I yelling?!?!” Truly it couldn’t be that bad, right?

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

It was the creepiest experience of my life. What startled me most was how normal some of the people acted. The first woman walking by me was wearing a Delta Gamma tank, Lululemon, and had her yoga mat around her shoulder. Or any Bucknell sorority girl in the gym at 5pm. She was too normal! This was a trap I told myself.

My appointment was for 7:30pm and I realized very quickly this wasn’t necessary: I was the only non-Scientologists in there. This secretary with one of those fake smiles greeted me and looked over the list confirming my appointment. Lady, I was your only customer for the day, don’t pretend like your party is at max capacity. She was way too happy to see me. I kind of liked it. It was a nice change of pace from the groans and long sighs my friends greet me whenever I walk into the room.

My guide informed me I would watch a movie on the history of Scientology. I like to take risks. Rules are meant to be broken in my mind. It is the thrill of not getting caught which is very appealing to me. So when they left me alone in the theater, I took my phone out and started recording. Can you imagine being that person who gets arrested and forced to pay the $250,000 FBI copyrighting fine shown before every mediocre VHS tape you’ve even seen? Well I certainly was not thinking about my long term future and any other consequences!

The movie I watched was …odd. It had all the necessary scenes for a successful cult film. These included an angry girlfriend throwing hey ex-boyfriend’s guitar out the window, a father berating his son for struggling to ride a bike without training wheels, and a teen in prime puberty years being heckled constantly because he won’t chug beer.

I couldn’t believe how relatable this film was to me.

The most frightening thing about the film is for awhile, it wasn’t that scary. The premise early on was discovering how you handle all types of adversity. It is all about self-reflection and finding your yourself. I could go to any sort of meditation/yoga class/ and I’d hear the same thing at 50 times the cost. However, this slim piece of normality quickly dissipated in the next scene.

A lady in the hospital is crying as she realizes her leg is about to be amputated and then out of nowhere our superhero appears, the founder of Scientology, L. Ron Hubbard. Long story short, she claims her foot feels 100% and it’s all because of the Scientology quotes he recites. This part of the film basically denounced modern medicine and how Scientology was the true healer. Come on Scientology, you almost had me buy your books and you blew it!

I was losing interest quickly and instead focused on finding the most appropriate Snapchat filter to describe my present situation. I went with the bee face one since they got rid of the bread face(RIP).

The movie ended and my guide asked what I thought about it. You know that panicky feeling you get when a teacher calls on you while you’re daydreaming? That’s what I felt when she asked me. The great thing about cults is they’ll agree with anything you say if it’ll means you join. I told them I loved how the teachings give me hope in this mean, stressful world. “Very good Michael, that is exactly right. Scientology changed my life and will change your life.” Okay creepy, robot lady whatever you say.

My next step was to take a personality test. This is where I was getting impatient. I got standardized testing PTSD when I am given a pencil and packet consisting of 200 multiple choice questions. I was waiting for instructions from the proctor and someone to write on the front board how many minutes I had left.

The questions and all were worded to separate those with a brain and the weak-minded followers who fall for this nonsense. Here are a few of the questions they asked:

Does an unexpected action cause your muscles to twitch? (They asked this 3 different times and I still don’t get the relevance here. I guess Scientology is a pro muscle-spasm group.)

(They asked this 3 different times and I still don’t get the relevance here. I guess Scientology is a pro muscle-spasm group.) Would you “buy on credit” with the hope that you can keep up with payments? ( Okay, they want to see if I’m financially secure and can throw all my money at them. This is a good question!)

Okay, they want to see if I’m financially secure and can throw all my money at them. This is a good question!) Do you accept criticism easily and without resentment? (Another great question for #TeamCrazy to see if I’m submissive and never question the great teachings of their savior L. Ron Hubbard!)

It was approaching 3 hours in the House that John Travolta built and I wanted to abandon ship quickly. I am sent to another room while they grade my test. After watching some more videos in the lobby, I get called back to hear my results. They bring in this OG Scientologist who’s been with the church sine the 1980’s.

“Michael, Michael, Michael you are in a lot of trouble. Your scores are some of the lowest we’ve seen here in all my years. Luckily we can help you here.” According to the results, I have no friends, can’t socialize, and am reckless. Scientology, you described me better than I can ever say about myself. So all of you reading this are the bad people in my life! Shame on all of you for helping create the horrible monster I am.

Throughout the walk-through, they asked what I knew about Scientology. I almost slipped and said I watched the HBO documentary “Going Clear” about how screwed up it all is. I played dumb and that seemed to work. Regardless, it was an interesting experience in the sense that there are some normal people who join Scientology. I was probably asked 3 times to buy “Dianetics”, the teachings that will change my life. It was always funny telling them no, and seeing the slightest facial expression change when they realized I wasn’t giving them any commission that night.

[This is the part where I find out Frank Ocean is releasing an album Friday and watch him cut wood for 45 minutes.]

Anyway, the Church of Scientology is a bunch of nonsense that targets people with low self-esteem and below average intelligence to think they are improving their lives. It is fascinating how easily people can be manipulated. This certainly was a trip I will never be making again.

Until next time,

Sahagian