A few days ago, I told someone a story about one of the things that happened to me when I was at my poorest. About 12 years ago, I had no money and no job. It was summertime and very hot, and I had one pair of shorts. Every morning, I'd get out of bed, find the hole that had inevitably developed in my shorts and sew it back together. Every few days, I'd wash the shorts, always by hand because if I put them into a washing machine they would have just disintegrated.

I had about six t-shirts, all of which were the free shirts you get from volunteering at Grandma's Marathon. That and one pair of hand-me-down jeans made up my entire wardrobe.

One day I got out of bed, sewed up my shorts and put on a clean Grandma's t-shirt, and headed off to Perkin's Family Restaurant, where I was supposed to meet with this woman I went to college with and her husband. They had "just started a business" she told me on the phone, and were "looking for someone savvy." And so, dressed in my finest business attire, I trotted off to check out this potential job opportunity.

When I got there, we sat down, exchanged pleasantries, ordered some jalapeno poppers, and began to talk business. About a minute and a half later, I realized that they were perpetuating some kind of scam.

"Do you enjoy being jolted awake in the morning by an alarm clock?" the husband asked. I said that I did not. He then painted a picture for me, beginning with a morning where my body "is allowed to wake up naturally." He then described an entire day of leisure. It was like some kind of crazy Mad Lib, where I had to fill in the blanks in his story so that it would fit my ideal dream life. Together, we described the dream home I lived in right down to the last doorknob. We talked about the trips I was going to take, the car I was going to drive.

"You can have that life," he said intensely. "And to take the first step down that road, you only have to purchase these products."

That's right. Amway. Only they didn't call it that. I forget what it was actually called, but a lot of the pamphlets said Amway on them, and that's what it was.

The couple was really evasive about what exactly I would be doing and how exactly I was going to earn enough cash to jetset around Europe the way they had described. But they were very clear on how to begin: by shelling out money.

"The startup fees are nominal," the husband said. When he mentioned a figure around $200, I nearly choked on my jalapeno poppers. After joining the cult, I'd have to commit to purchasing all of my products through the cult. "These are many of the same products you already use and love," he said. When he followed up by saying, "Think of the hundreds of dollars you spend every month on food and clothing," I nearly fell on the floor trying not to laugh.

Reluctantly, I took some cassette tapes and pamphlets home with me and told them I'd "think about it." I listened to some of the tapes. The speaker on them said even less than the couple had; he just painted more pictures of my potentially incredible life (he was really big on RVs, that much I remember).

I met with them again a few days later, with a list of questions, the foremost among which was Tell me now in no unspecific terms what I would be doing to earn this money. They told me that I would be doing exactly what they were doing at that very moment:

Meeting with friends.

Chatting over lunch.

Encouraging others to join in on this fantastic opportunity.

I remember exactly what I said, and I only said this because I was in my early 20s, idealistic, and had nothing whatsoever to lose. I said, "In the past few days, you've made me think a lot about what I want to become. And I certainly don't want to become the kind of person who does this for a living."

They looked stunned. Maybe because what I said was kind of rude, but in retrospect, I think it was also because they were very naive. They truly believed that they were changing the world while heading on to great, unbridled success. I don't think they realized that some friend of theirs had conned them into conning others.

They were very nice people, after all.

Addendum: For the record, I went on to get an honest job. And while I don't exactly jetset around Europe and live in a stone mansion, I do in fact wake up naturally every day.