So they weren't really salesmen. In which I mean the lemonade was free.
There were two of them: young men dressed in white shirts and black ties, wearing name tags and with their hair combed back. Kiarra, Bri, and I have been working in the costume shop in the basement for the last four hours and have crawled back upstairs for food. We're still trying to figure out what sunlight is when they call us over.
"Hello ladies, would you like some lemonade?" Well I can't say no.
"What's the catch?" I ask as I take it from him. He smiles.
"Catch? JUst drinking it, I suppose." I narrow my eyes at him.
"Lauren," Kiarra laughs, "I don't think he put roofies in it. You're safe to drink."
"Of course he didn't put roofies in it. We're in the middle of campus. I mean what are you solliciting?" Free food is the best way to lure suspicious college students into signing a petition or giving money to charity.
"No solliciting, just lemonade," the young man says. I nod. So he's not one of the voter registrations, or pennies to cancer, or SALT volunteers, or policemen handing out new and improved safety apps. The lemonade is Crystal Light.
"And I'd like to talk to you about the word of Jesus Christ."
Oh god damn it. I walked right into that one.