Girl Scout Cookie Monster

The other day I said there was no good reason to answer your door. I take that back. I can think of one: if there’s a young girl dressed in a green outfit adorned with badges, holding a sign-up sheet. She’s got the stuff! The tagalongs, the do-si-dos, the samoas and (let’s all bow our heads for a moment) the thin mints.

But now everything’s changed—even the names. I refuse to call do-si-dos “peanut butter sandwiches.” And the price—$4 a box! And their method of selling? Instead of going door-to-door (like I had to do) they just give the list to their parents and they sell it at work.

Now there’s one change that I like. When your co-worker approaches you about making a deal, you don’t just sign up and wait six weeks. You get the stuff RIGHT THEN AND THERE! The poor Girl Scouts now have to project how much they’re gonna sell. I like it now but if I have a Girl Scout of my own one day I’ll be stuck with a bunch of cookies. Hmmm…stuck with a bunch of cookies.

I told Frank to keep his ears open at work. I said, “Be proactive. If you’re in someone’s office and they have a picture of their daughter and she looks like she’s between the ages of 7-12, ask if she’s got the stuff!”

Frank and I strongly believe that this is the single best fundraiser of any organization. We don’t want wrapping paper, raffle tickets or giant tubs of popcorn. We want the stuff. The stuff you can only get once a year. It’s genius!

Last year Frank was at the grocery store and some Girl Scouts were selling the stuff outside. He went up to them and bought a couple of boxes (we had already run out of the stuff at home) and they said, “Thanks for supporting the Girl Scouts!” He replied, “Well, you’ve got a great product.” They were a little confused. But the point is that it’s so awesome that we don’t even think about the fact that we’re supporting an organization—we just want the stuff!

You know, I was pretty good at selling the stuff back in the day. And my parents refused to take it to work (“If I take this then I gotta buy all the soccer stuff, the band stuff and the church stuff.”) But I still sold tons just going door to door. If people said, "Oh, I can't. I'm watching my weight," I would come back with, "Then you should try our low-calorie trefoils!" The year that I sold the most was the year that the cookie mother of our troop had all of the money “stolen” from her car. Lesson here: don’t let a woman who carries a key chain that says “classy bitch” be the cookie mom.

Frank, if you find someone today, tell them I want two boxes of tagalongs, two do-si-dos, one samoas and four thin mints (we can freeze them)! And make it clear to whoever you buy it from that they can be our exclusive dealer from now on, as long as they don’t make us buy any giant tubs of popcorn.