Oddly enough, he was dressed exactly like me. And this is more odd than it might sound, because I was wearing a pale blue sportscoat with white stripes, over white slacks, and he was wearing identical clothes. I stared.
“Are you happy?” he demanded, “Would you like to have more money, a better job, more women? Would you like things to be better? Well it’s easy …”
He attempted to press a cardboard ticket into my hand.
“It’s easy!” he insisted. “All you have to do is chant these words — nom meyoho ringey kyo! — you just chant these words, and you can have more money, or a better job, or a lot of women. That’s all you have to do! And you can have anything you want!”
I continued walking. I smiled my superior smile. I knew better, of course, because I was studying Scientology. Chanting things, how silly!
He kept trying to put the ticket into my hand. “Just chant these words,” he demanded. “Come to this meeting. We’ll show you how. You can have anything you want, and-“
Ignoring him, I’d turned to the supermarket door, and perhaps because I’d been distracted, I walked into the Out door, at the very moment that a cute little child started out the door.
The door swung open, hitting me right in the middle of the forehead.
Stunned, I stopped. I felt the paper ticket slide into my hand, my fingers closing upon it.
“You see?” the guy shouted. “I don’t want things like that to happen to you!”