The evening came with a lot of fine print, which either I initially failed to pick up on, or they’d intentionally whited it out.

While I still wander into the Communications Industry, trying to find home for my skills, I let a friend approach me with help in his hands. He called me on a slightly cold Sunday to tell me, his uncle and aunt had started a company and would love some help on using social media to promote their business. I jumped at the idea. I was lusting at the idea of helping a small business grow by applying everything I’d learned so far. I was charged with the emotion of working on an exciting project. I’d contemplated doing it for free. I’d argued, against all odds and the Monday’s weather, that I’d be prepared. So, I did my homework, stuffed my files, grabbed my chai and walked out of the door. I drove for thirty five minutes on icy streets, making sure I am not late. And I waited for them at the food court, with a smile on my face.

A family of five walked in, beaming and bright, taking the seats next to mine, and introducing themselves. We talked about the weather and economy, we discussed businesses and good entrepreneurs. And then I asked, How can I help?  Mr.Smile-a-lot opened his white mac, inserted a “demonstration” cd in the bucket and a man appeared on screen. I sat there listening for ten minutes, unwilling to admit the obvious and so raised another question, “So, what is this company?” He drew a chart that I’d been warned against by peers and pals. The infamous “Amway” tree. And suddenly, as my blood boiled its way through my head, I figured out that I’d just been tricked by Quixtar’s certain someones to join their company, only so they could get a gracious commission out of it. They talked about false dreams that they’d been disillusioned into and huge salaries they’d bought into. They promised, while still projecting the smile they were trained to give, about never having to being laid off. And they repeated this thrice. They started handing out some “educational materials” my way. Oh, No, I’ll just google your company, I proclaimed. And then, Mr.Smile-a-lot, patiently moved his uper lip into an ambient frown and sighed.

“Look, if you google Mother Teresa, you’ll get positive, and negative responses. Likewise, if you google Quixtar, you’ll get mixed reactions but that doesn’t mean Mother Teresa was bad, right?” No, sir. You are wrong. As opposed to what your Sunday Sessions on Socializing told you, Mother Teresa only had positive reactions while Quixtar (read: Trickstar) only had negative.

When I first moved to New Jersey, I was warned about this. My friends told me, don’t believe them if an Indian at a grocery store says they recognize you from somewhere and invite you over dinner. They’ll only talk to you about Amway. And if you refuse, they’ll never talk to you again. I was careful and determined to let this contagious virus fly by but I got tricked into it. And now, thanks to this dreadful idea of using completely unethical means to attract people, I now refuse to smile at any desi at the grocery store, offering to be my friend.

And I hope that the Trickstar refugees cut the chords with the company that barely sells anything and thrives on misleading people into becoming their own bosses.

(And I could not help but post this picture, there were just too many similarities and I call them Amway Zombies – no offense to the living or to the Dead)