World Recruiting Championships: Scientology Versus Crunch Gym

He makes a happy face.

I'm brought to a special area and then hooked up to the E Meter (a lie-detector device that Scientologists use to probe the mental states of their victims). Again I'm asked to think of one thing in my life I'd like to change. "I wish I were a large Asian woman," I reply, extending my arm up to around the area I wish my largeness would inhabit. The E Meter doesn't know what to make of this.

Forget Crunch Gym. I can easily see myself becoming a Scientology member, working at the headquarters, where my sole job would be to polish L. Ron Hubbard's head every hour on the hour.

Crunch Classes: Military Bootcamp, Cardio Striptease, Revolution With Smart Bells®, Heavy Metal Survivor.

Scientology Classes: Personal Efficiency, Intro to Dianetics Seminar, The Success Through Communications Course, How to Improve Relationship With Others.

After the tour of the Crunch facility, I'm made to sit really close to the Crunch membership rep on a couch in the reception area.

"This is the cool, hip gym in town," he says. "Go over to 24 Hour Nautilus. It's right down the street. It's just kind of gross, with bad fluorescent lighting. Go check it out."

And then he says, "I'll let you in on a little secret." The-one-who-thinks-I'm-the-Infiltrator crosses out the $64-a-month figure printed on a sheet of paper. "Tomorrow we're having a special. If you sign up, this monthly will be 15 percent off." Holy fucking shit! With one stroke of the pen, the-one-who-thinks-I'm-the-Infiltrator replaces the $64-a-month figure with $57.04. What fortunate timing on my part! Somehow, the $199 enrollment fee is also slashed, all the way down to $74. I'm almost hooked.

"So let's get you signed up," the smiling rep says.

"I'll have to think about it."

"How about if I call you tomorrow," he suggests. Looking at my personal information card, he frowns. "Your name isn't Chad Martin," he says.

Funny Crunch Gym TV Character: A guy in a large bunny suit.

Funny Scientology TV Character: That woman who is the voice of Bart Simpson.

After the tour of the Scientology facility, I'm made to sit really close to the membership rep at his personal desk.

"The best way to get started is by taking the Personal Efficiency course," he explains.

"How much is it?"

"It's only $35," he says with his big and by-now-irritating smile. "That's all you have to pay."

"Great," I reply.

"And from there, it will determine what other courses you need to take."

"Oh!" [Pause] "When can I start?"

"You can start right now."

I tell him I'll come back first thing tomorrow.

"How about if you sign today; then you'll be all set for tomorrow," he suggests, asking again what I really need help with in my life.

"I'm very indecisive. [Pause] No, that's not it. [Pause] Yeah, that's it," I say decisively.

"Well, signing up for the Personal Efficiency course would be your first step into becoming less indecisive," he retorts with his fixed smile.

An identically dressed Scientology colleague jumps up. She's also smiling. "You can sign up for the Personal Efficiency course today, then come back and take it any time you like!"

They're just not about to let me off this Scientology sales hook. These guys are good -- darn good. Crunch Gym could learn a little lesson from Scientology.

After experiencing the extra push to extract cash before I can leave the building, I'd have to say, "Yes, I'm sold on Scientology." The world's fastest-growing religion uses sales tactics that are far more aggressive than those found at your basic health club.

Hurrah for Scientology! You're No. 1!