I have a shameful admission to make: I don’t like Girl Scout Cookies.
I think Samoas might be the Pumpkin Spice Latte of the cookie world. It’s not that it’s so good, you just can’t get it all year long. Does anyone really like Thin Mints, or do we all just pretend so we don’t look like assholes? Look, the girls are cute and the cause is great, but the cookies suck and they’re sucking my wallet dry.
You’re Cute, Kid, But Your Cookies Suck…
This isn’t a political statement. The Girl Scouts of America is an admirable organization, impressive in its inclusiveness, with programs that promote leadership and self-reliance. (Nearly 75 percent of female senators were Girl Scouts. Fun fact for you there.)
Also according to the website, the net proceeds of the sales stay local, so what the scouts raise benefits those scouts. So, good cause and all that.
But far as the thing you normally buy cookies for? I don’t get it.
I work at home, so at least I don’t have coworkers pushing their kid’s crappy cookies at me. But I can’t go to the grocery store without getting hit up coming and going by earnest-faced little entrepreneurs. Worse, I don’t big shop; I frequent shop. If I bought a $4 box of cookies every time I went to the store, I would be down 240 dollars and up 240 pounds.
I sometimes pass Kroger to go to Tom Thumb, which has two doors. So on the way in I can say, “I’ll catch you on the way out,” then ninja my way out the other door with my groceries.
Look, I’m not an awful person. I’ve tried to just give them whatever money I have in my purse like I do with the bell ringers in December. But no, you have to buy the cookies. Which, fine, I’ll give them to someone. But now it’s personal. I resented having to sell band candy in High School, and I resent having to take their stupid cookies now. So it’s become a moral imperative.
If it falls right on the calendar, I have the excuse of Lent, but the rest of the time I just have to be honest. Or honest-ish. “I’m sorry. I don’t eat cookies,” I say, and hope they can’t see the Walker’s Shortbread in my grocery bag, which somehow makes it worse because I’m cheating on the Trefoils that are sitting right there on the table.
“I don’t have cash,” is no longer an excuse, thanks to Square and Paypal.
Last year I went with “Gosh, I’m sorry. I can’t eat cookies,” and this little angel smiles at me and says, “You can buy a box to send to the troops!”
Low blow, kid, playing the “For the Troops” card. You win this round.
I find myself putting off going to the grocery store as long as possible (I need to eat all that freezer burned food anyway) or shopping after nine p.m. Yesterday, on a daylight soda run, I literally did a drive-by of Tom Thumb to see if the coast was clear. Only then did I venture inside to pick up my 12-pack of LaCroix.
This is what I’ve come to—covert ops against a bunch of 8-year-olds.
Fortunately, you can donate to the Girl Scouts online, including directly to your local council, regardless of how you feel about Thin Mints.
And Amazon delivers groceries now, so I should be okay.