You Go, Girl Scouts!

Yesterday there was a knock at the door. I have a theory: nothing good ever comes from answering an unexpected knock. I considered not answering. But then I thought, well, it is January…maybe by some miracle it’s the best reason to answer the door all year. But no, it’s too soon. And last year nobody came. But could it be? I peeked out the window—nobody. But then I looked down—two little girls. There was hope. I partially opened the door and then I saw it. A Brownie vest with badges and everything!

But then, a panic. Do Brownies sell the stuff? Or would she want to sell me wrapping paper or popcorn in a tin or worse, tickets to the scout fair? (That’s what Frank tells me the Boy Scouts sold. You learn how to tie knots or something.) I knew that whatever she was selling; I had no choice but to buy it.

She said, “Hi, I’m Camille and I’m from troop blah blah and I’m trying to raise money for blah blah blah…”

Come on, get to it, little girl. Her dad waited at the sidewalk, holding her scooter. Her little sister stood beside her, peering up at me.

And then she said it, “Would you like to buy some Girl Scout Cookies?”

I was so relieved and excited that I might have overreacted:

“YES!! ARE YOU KIDDING? I LOVE GIRL SCOUT COOKIES!! I WAIT ALL YEAR FOR THIS! I’M SO GLAD YOU CAME!! FRANK! COME QUICK! WE GOTTA BUY SOME GIRL SCOUT COOKIES!!”

As we looked over the list we asked some questions, “Are these new ones?” and “When will they be delivered?” The little girl wasn’t so sure; She really needed a crash course in the Writinggal school of Girl Scout Cookie selling. If you'll recall, I had all the answers:

“Oh, you say you’re on a diet? You don’t need to be on a diet! You look fabulous, Mrs. Miller! But if you want, you can try our low-calorie Trefoils!”

“You think $2 a box is too expensive? You don’t have to pay me now. You pay me when I deliver them in a month!”

“You don’t want to buy too many because you’re afraid they’ll go bad? They make great gifts plus you can freeze them and have them all year!”

Camille wasn’t doing any up-selling. I saw on her sheet that her goal was to sell 1,000 boxes. Well, we put her three boxes closer to that goal. I think I’ll hold out and buy the rest of my stash (about another dozen or so) from someone who’s hungrier, more driven.

And I don’t think that will be Camille’s little sister. As we asked questions she rolled her eyes, let out a big sigh and then went to join her dad on the sidewalk.

After we placed our order (one box of Tagalongs, one box of Thin Mints and some random sugar free brownies—Frank’s idea; he likes to try the new stuff), the dad even had to coax her into a thank-you: “Whaddya say, Camille?”

Pathetic. She’s never gonna get to 1,000 with that pitch.

But if there are any girls with the stuff out there; try me. I’m a very good customer. And don’t send it to work with your parents. Yes, sometimes I’m desperate and I have to buy the stuff that way but I prefer you do it Bill-Porter-style. Sell ‘em old-school, door-to-door. Oh, and you might want to do the Girl Scout secret knock. That way you can be sure I’ll answer.

P.S. To those of you who haven't been blessed with having a dealer knock on your door: you've got something to look forward to. Prices are down from $4 to $3.50 per box. Apparently my letter-writing campaign worked.