When I was a college student, I quickly learned that if I went to the grocery store, and someone I had never seen before walked up to me and starting talking to me like I was a long lost friend, he or she would turn out to be a Scientologist. After wasting three or four of your minutes, they'd get to the recruitment part.
A couple of years into my college career, they bought and moved into an apartment building across a park from where I lived, and turned it into their church. This caused some concerns, because this apartment building was right next door to some off-campus dorms, so the city made them promise not to bother the neighbors in exchange for allowing them to use the building as their church. I guess the Scientologists decided that those of us across the park were far enough away, because one evening a young woman showed up at my door with one of their personality questionnaires. I had heard about these questionnaires, and was curious about what was on them, so I agreed to fill one out. Which I did, reading the questions for entertainment purposes, and randomly selecting answers from the choices provided. (Sorry, I can't remember the questions in detail, although I think one of them pertained to whether I twitch uncontrollably.) When I finish, I put a fake name and fake phone number on it, figuring that's the last I'll hear from the Scientologists. Wrong! A couple of weeks later, she showed up at my door again, and said they'd been trying to reach me for a week, but no one had ever heard of me at the number I provided.
A couple of years later, I was reviewing science fiction and fantasy for the campus newspaper. One day, I got a copy of Battlefield Earth at the paper, with a letter thanking me for requesting a review copy that I had never requested (nor did I read this unsolicited review copy). Obviously the work of an industrious Scientologist.
So, it's the Scientologists for me. They have provided me numerous moments of entertainment.