L. Ron Hubbard is doing my taxes
Back in the day, Rob and I had a great real estate agent, L, who helped us find our place. She was smart, gorgeous, fun to be around, and an all-around interesting person. I pretty much wanted to be her. In fact, we were both quite befuddled as to why some guy hadn’t snatched her up yet.
So when I became a real estate agent myself, I naturally thought of L. Having lost her card, I Google-ed her name. The first result, and several thereafter, attached her name to the Church of Scientology.
HO-ly shit.
I still met up with L, and she gave me some kind advice, and has since walked me through some real estate transactions. I convinced myself that perhaps there were two women by the name of L in Chicago. So when she gave me a recommendation for a great accountant — one who could guide me through all these write-offs to which realtors are supposedly entitled — I scheduled myself an appointment.
So what if she funnels all her money into the greatest scam cult of our time? So what if she thinks the planet is ruled by some alien god named Xenu and his Galactic Confederacy? She could still be a reasonable, intelligent person. Right?
You know where this is going.
The accountant’s office is in some random half-sketchy building where I check in, sit down, and turn to the end table for something to read. And there it was: a display of pamphlets entitled, “The Way to Happiness,” provided with compliments by the accountant’s financial services company.
Before I can even flip through it, it hits me: this is a Scientology text. This guy’s a Scientologist, too. I gasp audibly, because I’m dramatic like that.
I scarcely have a chance to get my bearings when the accountant calls me in, and, before I know it, I’ve entrusted him with all my vital personal and financial information and am in a cab on the way home, reading L. Ron Hubbard’s name on the back cover of the pamphlet.
I’m going back to pick up my paperwork next week. I fully expect to discover that half my earnings have been funneled into some account in Clearwater, Florida, and that I’ll have taken deductions for being a single Thetan who has not yet embarked on “the Bridge to Total Freedom.”
I hope I don’t get audited. By this Scientologist or the IRS! Those e-meters freak me out!
