I’m standing outside, waiting the Max train. A couple of Japanese tourists walk up.
“Take this for the Conversion Center?”
“Hm?”
“Take this to the Conversion Center?”
“One more time.”
“Conversion Center.”
I then realize that they want to go to the Convention Center. Except, I can’t think of the word “Convention Center” — it’s as if I’m wracking my brain and coming out with “Convextion Center”, and wondering what the heck a Convextion Center is– so I’m forced to let “Conversion Center” pass without the minor, but seemingly significant, correction.
“Yes. Yes.”
“Good. Thanks.”
As they walk away, I realize I should clarify which train they should and should not get on. “Oh! Blue and Red, yes, not yellow.”
“Yes, I know. Blue and Red, yes. Yellow, no.”

To go to the Conversion Center, I guess you take the 12 Bus up to the Scientology Center. Or maybe get in touch with some of the LaRouchites who will take you to one of their Cadre School / Conversion Centers. Or maybe to that new sequal that’s out to “What the Bleep?”.

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