Cherry Blossoms, Scientology and Inappropriate Footwear Pt. 2

We entered the home to Tom Cruise’s favorite peeps, with our eager-beaver tour guide immediately launching into the tour/conversion spiel. While his tour guide abilities were lacking, he made up for it with his adoration of all things L. Ron Hubbard. “He like to explore and not just sit around like other philosophers,” said the Beav. Kierkegaard says thank you.

The Beav made it clear that Scientology accepts all and that they believed in God. When my friend SF asked what god they believed it, Beav responded with “You choose your own god.” Sweet, so if I wanted to believe in the Flying Spaghetti Monster, I would be free to do so. Or if I wanted to make my own god, out of say a Cocoa Puff, that would be cool too.

In the office they had on display a series of electronic boxes with dials and other widgets. One looked very much like it had a set of metal nunchucks at the end. This was to perform a little thing they like to call auditing.

And how does metal nunchucks help you with that, one might ask. Why, by holding the nunchucks in your hands and having an electric current run through your body. If the current goes through without resistance, congrats, you are practically perfect in every way.

If you aren’t so perfect and have emotional constipation, then your current gets blocked. Your auditor (aka perfect person) is the one who reads your nunchuck holding info and counsels you on removing the blockages.

Once delightful example he gave us was this: Imagine a girl who loves to dance but is really bad at it. All the Mean Girls make fun of her and she becomes shy and self conscious about her bad dancing and stops dancing. She fondles the magic nunchucks and works through her issues. She still sucks at dancing, but she feels really good about it!!

We asked the Beav about Hubby and alien abduction. He quickly stated that it wasn’t a basic tenet of the faith, and quickly moved on to sci-fi novels. So, it could still be a part of the faith?? We never got around to pressing the issue.

Once we left the church (informative dvds in hand…drinking game anyone??) we pooled our opinion of the church and all agreed it wasn’t a religion but more like a self help group. We did have a strange urge to jump up and down on the park benches, however.

We rejoined our party and then they, the Baltimore tourists, decided to walk from Dupont Circle to Chinatown, a mere 1.8 miles. Hardly a overwhelming mileage, but when one is wearing boots that already are making the wearer very aware of her feet, that is not what one wants to hear.

Finally we made it to Chinatown. I came in last, but am counting those miles as training for the Purposeful Walk. As I limped towards Jaleo, it was decided that it had too long of a wait. For those painful steps I was consoling myself with the fact that patas bravas and marinated shark awaited me at the end, only now, not so much. We walked several more blocks and around the Verizon Center in hope of finding a place.

We ate at Potbelly, which is not Jaleo, but still rather tasty. So, there you have it. Three days later, my knees still hurt, but I’m still chuckling over our tour. Hopefully Tommy boy and company won’t come after me for this post.


~ by pithycomments on April 9, 2008.

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