At my maintenance-man job I got a call from a new tenant who needed a key to get in their office. Once I figured out who and where they were, I ran over with keys to open the door. They’d already moved in, but I guess the boss was gone and the key they had wasn’t working. No big deal.
But then I got a big tour of their operation, and a primer on who they were. I was meeting a tall, old guy named Bill and a short beefy guy I’ll call Gus. They were really friendly guys, but I could sense immediately their crackpot nature. Bill offered me water to drink, but this was no ordinary water. He took me to a machine hooked into the faucet, saying, “Now this is some good water for you. It’s got a PH of 2, and it’ll cure what ails you. Helps your blood pressure, clears up your skin, keeps you from getting constipated if you ever get constipated, which is more of a problem with women.” I was thirsty, so I took the cup he was handing me, and he dispensed me some water. I thanked him and expected to leave, but then he wanted to show me more. The first water dispenser was 1200 dollars, but they had another that was 3100 or so, and both of them could raise or lower the PH by a few points. “You can make it acid water and use it for cleaning, which they do in Japan, save you a lot on soap, plus all the health benefits, but the government here just isn’t ready to approve it.” Then he pointed to a pile of fruit on a counter and said, “Our boss is a vegetarian—there’s a picture of him,” and he was pointing to a middle-aged shirtless guy flexing in a photo on a foamboard sign. “He was run over by a truck, but now he’s better, and he owes it all to eating right and drinking healing water.” Above the picture of “John Three Eagles” it said FEEL LIKE A MILLOINAIR (sic) and I realized there were misspellings everywhere in that place, along with lots of American flag imagery and pictures of eagles. Bill told me twice that I could come in and get water any time I wanted to, just use my key. I said thanks, but I try not to intrude on tenants’ spaces unless necessary. He kept insisting that I needed that water. Then he handed me a flyer titled “BODY ANALYZER,” packed with many typos. He said, “We can also check your body for health problems. The machine’s not here today, but come back and we can put you on it. We hook electrodes to your acupressure points, and it gives numbers for your readings. If it says “0,” you’re dead. If it says “100,” you’re about to have a nervous breakdown.” This made me laugh a little. “It can tell you about health problems before they happen. It saved my wife’s life.” I said, “Huh, wow, well, I think I’m in pretty good health. I’ve only had to go to the hospital once in about 20 years, so I guess I’m doing okay.”
“Let me go get you those keys,” I said after some other stuff about postwar Asia, where Bill had been in the military and had missed a chance to bring early VCR technology to America from the “Orientals.” On my way back to my office, I confirmed on the Body Analyzer flyer that it did indeed “save Gloria life” (sic). In a few minutes, I was back with the keys. Bill and Gus didn’t hear me come in from the hall, and I heard one of them grumble, “I don’t feel too good today.”
The next day I saw papers in the dumpster near their office that said LIFE FORCE. Then I found out that someone named Tor from their office had already followed the next-door legal secretary to her car enough times that she was carrying a stun gun and considering a restraining order. Go team LIFE FORCE!
