Saturday, March 29, 2008

F%$#^*G Girl Scouts!

This is the last day of March, which is delightful news as far as I'm concerned. Why, you might ask? (You know you asked.) Because today is the day the f%$#^*g Girl Scouts will go back to their cheery, helpful holes, and stay there until next March. And they'll take with them the few boxes of overpriced, under-delicious Samoas, and Thin Mints, and Tagalongs that they didn't manage to pawn off on poor unsuspecting grocery store customers, office workers, and teachers the nation over.
Since my current co-workers don't have Girl Scouts of their own, I'm mercifully no longer cornered at my desk with the grease-stained, ink-splotched, barely decipherable order form, listing fellow employees who succumbed to the Cookie Mafia. ("Jesus Bob, four boxes of Samoas?") But just like the real mafia, they find you eventually. In my case, it's because they've staked out every godforsaken grocery store from here to D.C., and a person's got to pick up supplies sooner or later.
The first weekend when I rolled into Trader Joe's and saw the dejected moms standing guard at the cookie table, while a gaggle of nine-year-old girls turned cartwheels and jumped up and down and threw paper cups at each other, I thought about turning around and coming back once it was past their bedtimes. But since TJ's is a 20-minute drive, I steeled myself and stepped out, immediately assaulted by the shrill cries of "GET YOUR GIRL SCOUT COOKIES!!!" and "THIN MINTS, SAMOAS, DO-SI-DOS!" over and over like a broken record. I steeled myself to run the gauntlet, grabbed a cart, and hustled inside. Just like in prison, or if confronted by a vicious dog, the key is to avoid eye contact at all costs.

Of course, it doesn't matter how you did on the way in, how you managed to perfectly time your entrance while two scouts were helping "customers" and the third was busy with back handsprings. If you go in, you're going to have to come out. And even if you succumbed on entry, you're not assured future immunity. After all, how are they supposed to keep track of every moron who gives them $4?

Ironically, it's not even a good deal for the little satan spawn, who only receive 60 cents for every box of cookies they sell. And that rate is only for troops who rack up a certain number of sales. It's a racket, people. Which is all beside the point, because it doesn't really matter to me whether the Girl Scouts are savvy enough to identify a good business proposition. My only desire in this situation is to enter the grocery store in peace. To this end, I propose the Girl Scouts cease their lazy "bake sale" system and go back to the traditional pavement-pounding method of harassing people at their offices and homes. At least that way I can hit the deck when the doorbell rings and wait until they go away.

Until then, a whole blissful 10 Girl Scout-free months. See you next year, Green Demons!

2 comments:

Darren Bernard said...

Did you get some Tagalongs?

Notebooks said...
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