Girl Scout Cookies - The Bane of Humanity? I think so. Before I get started, I just want to let you know that I know exactly what you're going to say. "Bloody Munchkin. Can I call you munchkin? Here's the the thing. It's girl scout cookies. There is nothing inherently wrong, bad, evil or otherwise about the sweet little innocent girl scout cookie." To which I say: Wrong!!! You sir are sad and wrong if you are so disillusioned not to see the evilness deep down in the core of the cookies.
I understand where you are coming from. It's hard at first to understand dastardly machinations behind the cookies, or the girl scouts themselves for that matter. Which is part of the cookies' Machiavellian ingenuity. It's just a box of cookies, see. Just a simple box of cookies, and the profits go to the local girl scout troop and what's more sweet and all-American than supporting your girl scouts, see? Nothing more, nothing less. It's devious in its simplicity really.
And they make it so easy, don't they? They've got eight boxes and given that you only get to pick the cookies out once a year, you've streamlined your decision making into a nice hierarchy, the hierarchy being: Tag-alongs, Somoas, Thin Mints, everything else, so when you get to the selection process, it's all rather easy. You got Somoas? I'll take a box of those. Done. Easy. It's gotten to the point that you've even memorized your significant other's Girl Scout Cookie Hierarchy (from now on deemed the GSCH) which reads as follows: Thin Mints and Somoas (both weighed equally), the little shortbread ones, everything else. You have both hierarchies at the ready in the event that there needs to be a compromise or the nice girl scouts don't have the oh so delectable cookie that you want.
But they always have the ones you want, don't they? If not, you can go down the block to the other girl scout cookie table stationed outside the nearest pizza parlor or the other grocery store or whatever and buy what their selling, because, at this point in time? They are unavoidable aren't they? The tables stationed at every turn, the angelic faces looking up at you from behind the table of cookies, so pristine, so innocent, with their little merit badges and their little hats. You can't say no. Oh, you've tried, and failed miserably, but you can't say no. So you buy the one box. That's all you need really. But then the next day? They find you again, badges polished to a pristine shine, all the girls with smiles and that look that says 'You don't want to rob me of my innocence and crush all my girl scout loving dreams do you?" with eyes batting, using their best puppy dog look. So another box it is then. It gets to the point that you're worried they'll tackle you at any given turn if you don't buy a box (maybe two?) of their delectable cookies that only come out once a year. "Oh Please Mr. Won't you please help the girl scouts?" So you've bought another box and then put a check mark next to another cookie listed on the GSCH. There's nothing wrong with that.
But there is something wrong with that. Something you've forgotten about: Pre-orders. That schlubby guy at work, with the two kids and a look of despair readily apparent on his face, remember him? Yeah, remember how back in January he came by with the little order form, and you put your name down for a box of Tag-alongs because the guy just looked so brow-beaten, which brow-beaten dad is almost as Machiavellian as the innocent puppy dog eyed girl scouts themselves because it's a pity buy, all "Would you please? It's for my daughter *sigh*. I really appreciate it (eyes down-turned in resignation)." and you're like Ah, Poor Bastard and then you buy a pity box. So next thing you know, you're up to your eyeballs in girl scout cookies, with all the cookies on your GSCH checked off and then some. You don't even like the do-si-does (doesn't mean you won't eat them though, heh) but did you buy them? Yes you did.
And it's not just that the acquiring of multiple boxes in as many ways is as possible is what's wrong with the Girl Scout cookies. The thing that's the most wrong with girl scout cookies? Is that you can polish off a sleeve of thin mints in less than five minutes and not even think twice about it. You know this about yourself because Fighting Nun timed you and you both were beguiled by this information, because that, along with knowing that your significant other, conditions permitting, can clear a room with just one air biscuit, you've lost a little bit more of your relationship innocence. There comes a point in every relationship where you start knowing things about the other person that you wish to God you didn't, but now you know them and you can't un-know them and neither of you knows where to go from there. Knowing that the woman you married might hold the world record for the most girl scout cookies consumed in five minutes might be one of those things I'm guessing.
So do you see now? How Girl Scout Cookies are a beguiling evil the likes of which the world has ever known? Do you see how they must be stopped at all costs? Do you see now? Do you, do you? Don't you want to help me rid the world of this evil. We'll get started right after I polish off this box of tag-alongs.
I understand where you are coming from. It's hard at first to understand dastardly machinations behind the cookies, or the girl scouts themselves for that matter. Which is part of the cookies' Machiavellian ingenuity. It's just a box of cookies, see. Just a simple box of cookies, and the profits go to the local girl scout troop and what's more sweet and all-American than supporting your girl scouts, see? Nothing more, nothing less. It's devious in its simplicity really.
And they make it so easy, don't they? They've got eight boxes and given that you only get to pick the cookies out once a year, you've streamlined your decision making into a nice hierarchy, the hierarchy being: Tag-alongs, Somoas, Thin Mints, everything else, so when you get to the selection process, it's all rather easy. You got Somoas? I'll take a box of those. Done. Easy. It's gotten to the point that you've even memorized your significant other's Girl Scout Cookie Hierarchy (from now on deemed the GSCH) which reads as follows: Thin Mints and Somoas (both weighed equally), the little shortbread ones, everything else. You have both hierarchies at the ready in the event that there needs to be a compromise or the nice girl scouts don't have the oh so delectable cookie that you want.
But they always have the ones you want, don't they? If not, you can go down the block to the other girl scout cookie table stationed outside the nearest pizza parlor or the other grocery store or whatever and buy what their selling, because, at this point in time? They are unavoidable aren't they? The tables stationed at every turn, the angelic faces looking up at you from behind the table of cookies, so pristine, so innocent, with their little merit badges and their little hats. You can't say no. Oh, you've tried, and failed miserably, but you can't say no. So you buy the one box. That's all you need really. But then the next day? They find you again, badges polished to a pristine shine, all the girls with smiles and that look that says 'You don't want to rob me of my innocence and crush all my girl scout loving dreams do you?" with eyes batting, using their best puppy dog look. So another box it is then. It gets to the point that you're worried they'll tackle you at any given turn if you don't buy a box (maybe two?) of their delectable cookies that only come out once a year. "Oh Please Mr. Won't you please help the girl scouts?" So you've bought another box and then put a check mark next to another cookie listed on the GSCH. There's nothing wrong with that.
But there is something wrong with that. Something you've forgotten about: Pre-orders. That schlubby guy at work, with the two kids and a look of despair readily apparent on his face, remember him? Yeah, remember how back in January he came by with the little order form, and you put your name down for a box of Tag-alongs because the guy just looked so brow-beaten, which brow-beaten dad is almost as Machiavellian as the innocent puppy dog eyed girl scouts themselves because it's a pity buy, all "Would you please? It's for my daughter *sigh*. I really appreciate it (eyes down-turned in resignation)." and you're like Ah, Poor Bastard and then you buy a pity box. So next thing you know, you're up to your eyeballs in girl scout cookies, with all the cookies on your GSCH checked off and then some. You don't even like the do-si-does (doesn't mean you won't eat them though, heh) but did you buy them? Yes you did.
And it's not just that the acquiring of multiple boxes in as many ways is as possible is what's wrong with the Girl Scout cookies. The thing that's the most wrong with girl scout cookies? Is that you can polish off a sleeve of thin mints in less than five minutes and not even think twice about it. You know this about yourself because Fighting Nun timed you and you both were beguiled by this information, because that, along with knowing that your significant other, conditions permitting, can clear a room with just one air biscuit, you've lost a little bit more of your relationship innocence. There comes a point in every relationship where you start knowing things about the other person that you wish to God you didn't, but now you know them and you can't un-know them and neither of you knows where to go from there. Knowing that the woman you married might hold the world record for the most girl scout cookies consumed in five minutes might be one of those things I'm guessing.
So do you see now? How Girl Scout Cookies are a beguiling evil the likes of which the world has ever known? Do you see how they must be stopped at all costs? Do you see now? Do you, do you? Don't you want to help me rid the world of this evil. We'll get started right after I polish off this box of tag-alongs.
No comments:
Post a Comment