Every winter it’s the same story. There I am, just sitting on the couch watching TV and wondering why Jay Mohr still has a career, when the doorbell rings. And on the other side of the door awaits Evil.
“Hi, Mrs. Aarons!”
“Oh, fuu—it’s you again.”
“How are you today?”
“I’m fine.”
“Great! I just wanted to know if you’d like to…”
“No. I don’t. Thank you. Good-bye.”
“Um, wait! Wait, Mrs. Aarons!”
“Oh, my God—did you just stick your foot in the door? Have you no shame?”
“Mrs. Aarons, wouldyouliketobuysomeGirlScoutcookies?”
(sigh) “Madison, are we really gonna do this dance again? Don’t I tell you every year that this’ll be my last year buying your crackhead cookies? Don’t I?”
“Yes, but…”
“And didn’t I even waddle over to your house last year and show you what your stupid Samoas did to my ass? Do you remember that? Remember the three pairs of industrial Spanx I had to wear just to keep me from looking like a post-Britney K-Fed? Does that ring a bell?”
“Yes, but…”
“And now, now that I’ve finally, finally returned to my fighting weight, you actually have the gall to roll up here in your Radio Flyer wagon and try to get me hooked AGAIN? Have you no shame, woman? I WILL NOT BE YOUR COOKIE BITCH, MADISON!”
“Yes, but…have you tried our Shortbread cookies?”
“If you’re referring to the Shortbread cookies that I crushed up and snorted through a straw on my kitchen counter last year, then yes, Madison, I’ve tried those. And I’ve also figured out that, despite their deceitful name, Thin Mints are not actually a weight loss supplement. Now please, go home.”
“OK, Mrs. Aarons, but would you like to just try this Tagalong sample? You don’t have to buy anything. I promise.”
“Oh…Madison. Madison, Madison, Madison. You think I don’t know that the first hit is always free? Do I look that innocent? Do I look that naive? Listen, sister, I’ve been around the block. I’ve watched ‘Sid and Nancy.’ I’ve been to Amsterdam. I’m as street as they come, my homes. I once even walked into a a tattoo parlor.”
“Just try it. One bite.”
“Fine. I’ll take a stupid bite. I’ll just…OHGAWDOHMYGAWDOHMYGAWDOHMYGAWD!”
“So, should I just go unload my wagon in your garage like usual, Mrs. Aarons?”
“Yes, Madison. That’d be fine.”
“Are you okay, Mrs. Aarons?”
“Oh, I’m good, Madison. Real good. Real f*&@ing good. I’m just going to stay here curled up in a little ball of shame and lick my fingers for a few minutessss…mmmmmmmm…”
“Okay, well nice doing business with you again, Mrs. Aarons.”
“Oh, you, too, Madison. A pleasure. And, um, see you next year. You dirty little cookie pushin’ wench.”
___________________________________________________

Oh my God! I just laughed out loud and my boyfriend innocently watching the cricket (God knows how he can watch that game), literally jumped.
I do miss those little girls in their turd colored uniforms knocking on my door. I wonder why England doesn’t have them…
This is hysterical!
I saw some girl scouts outside the grocery story today and I RAN across the street while they called after me in their deceptively innocent, high voices. They pretended to be hurt when I ignored them, but I’m onto them. Pure evil.
Thanks for letting my daughter be your supplier! Your the best addict EVER!!!!
Thank God for my wheat allergy. The cookies are now off-limits!
*takes long swig of Do Si Do bong water*
Per your update…all you have left?!?!?! How many boxes did you buy to begin with? =)
oh christ on a cracker! i laugh and then i throw up ’cause i laughed too hard! so good. ::forwards to email list::
I’ve got two little pushers living under my roof. It’s like Huggy Bear comin’ at me all day every day for a month with those damn boxes.
I’ll be your cookie bitch.
My daughter had her first cookie sale for Brownies in the Fall, gotta start them pushing early.
Thin Mints are best frozen, by the way!
You must live in a much nicer neighborhood than I. Here in Chicago (a murder capital) the Girl Scouts’ parents call on their behalf, collect money on their behalf, and deliver the cookies on their behalf. No Girl Scouts really involved whatsoever.
I only order the Thin Mints. Because I hate them. Good dieting tool.
The pint sized pushers don’t go door to door around these parts. They set up shop outside grocery stores, shopping centers, and churches. Or they get their parents to do their dirty work by bringing the order forms into work. Believe me when I tell you that it’s easier to say no to Bob the Jerk from Accounting than it is to his perky daughter.
Just when I managed to detox from all the holiday cookies, I discovered my boss’s secret stash of Girl Scout Cookies at the office. When will the insanity end?
The Other Wendi
It’s obviously because he was Bob Sugar for God’s sake. And he has a website. Oh, and in NYC you are able to just smugly walk by the girl scouts as they hawk their insidious wares on street corners. Guilt free, I might add.
I’m not the only one? Isn’t there some sort of support group for us?
Love the description of ‘doing a line of thin mints’ – that’s about right. Always thought of them as being boxed in two single serving sleeves…or a ‘thousand calorie pack’. I’m bracing for the delivery of my cookie order.
I don’t have any Girl Scouts who come to the house and offer up the cookies. So every year I’m torn between relief that I don’t have to face the gut-wrenching decision… and an overwhelming desire to run out into the street, the grocery store, the grade school and flag down any potential Girl Scouts in the hopes that they have Thin Mints.
Today on the commuter bus home, I thought the lustful looks in my direction were the result of months of hard work on the treadmill, salad noshing ad nauseum and the banishment of soda from my life. Alas, it was nothing more than the other worker drones on a Friday afternoon, hungrily eyeballing the multitude of Girl Scout cookies I was schleping home to my loving…and annoyingly well-metabolized… boys and husband. Damn.
I put my little daisy girl scout in braided pigtails. Watch out neighborhood. We’re coming for you.
LOL! Good to know I’m officially a supplier to a bunch of elementary aged pushers this time each year. And soon we’ll be pouncing as you try to enter and exit your favorite store. Mmmwahahahaha!