Pops brought up a rather unpleasant memory today. Being at a "Big 10" university, I ran into the God Squad on a regular basis. If there had been a grade given for "Avoiding Religious Disciples 1101", I would have gotten an A-. Thank pete for the curve.
On one occasion, I was in a particularly pissy mood. I think I'd just taken a midterm in a class I'd never been to before (one where, when I walked in to take the test, everyone looked at me in mass confusion, having never seen me before). Needless to say, the midterm didn't go well. I was sitting on a bench outside of Vincent Hall, probably deciding how to break it to my uber-responsible boyfriend of the time that I was going to fail the class, and a girl walked up to me. Through the tears that I wasn't allowed to cry (wailing + sobbing = looking not-so-collected), I saw her approaching me with a sympathetic look on her face. She asked me how it was going, and I had a moment of weakness. Letting my guard down, I hinted that things weren't all silky-smooth.
And she pounced. She "was sorry" that things "weren't going well", and had I ever thought about "looking to a higher power" for my "guidance"? I narrowed my eyes and saw the "Disciples of Cultism" pin on her left boob, and told her, "Look, Elizabeth, had I known you were being nice to me in order to woo me into your clan of drooling, koolaid-drinking, Mall-Preacher-following gypsy troop, I would have glared at you in the first place. Now, however, I have seen the light, and know the truth. Be gone, lest my death ray force you to meet your Higher Power immediatly*!"
She fled the scene.
That'll teach her.
*the author may have taken certain creative liberties when re-creating dialogue.