The Girls Scouts were sitting at a little table, in front of the market, but I didn’t pay them much heed. I had to pick up something and get back to work as quickly as possible. In my haste, it slipped my mind that I’d also intended to pick up some kind of snack for a meeting coming up. Walking out, I caught sight of their table, and approached them.
“Girl Scout cookies?” they called to me. It crossed my mind that they might have tried a better pitch—and it wouldn’t have hurt to say “sir.” I looked at the time on my phone, and looked at their feeble setup. They had stacked some boxes, and were passing the time with a game that seemed a little childish for their age.
“Hmm.” I stepped up and got a better look at the boxes. “What kinds do you have?”
They rattled off the names of their wares as though they were common, household foods—as though I’d know exactly what the silly terms referred to.
“I’ll just see what they look like.” I picked up one box, and it showed, between the idyllic scenes of wholesome girls doing whatever Girl Scouts do, some kind of ring-like biscuit with chocolate dribbled on it, and sprinkled with coconut. “Coconut?”
“Yes. They’re yummy!” the smallest one said.
“You’re kidding, right? That looks disgusting. I hate coconut. What else have you got?” I picked up another box. They were peanut butter flavor, and looked about as interesting as dog snacks. “It’s just peanut butter? That’s all?”
“Yeah,” an older one said, “It’s peanut butter cream inside.”
“Is it real peanut butter, or just artificially flavored?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t you think you *should* know, if you want me to buy some?”
“I think it’s on the box,” she suggested.
“Of course *I* can look at the box. I wouldn’t just buy some of these things without doing that. But the least you can do is know your own product.” She picked up the box and started to read the nutrition panel.
“Not now. I wouldn’t want those anyway. They look boring.”
“*I* like them,” she insisted.
I looked around the table. “I’ll just take three boxes of chocolate chip.”
“We don’t have chocolate chip,” the little girl said. Probably the only ones worth buying, I thought! Just my luck.
“—They don’t make them,” said the oldest.
“Oh, come on! I can’t believe that! Are you kidding?”
“I don’t think so. This is all we have.”
“No wonder no one wants to buy your cookies. Who put you up to this?”
“Excuse me!” A woman was approaching.
“Of course!” I thought. “Here comes the Den Mother!” She was carrying some bags, and rushing to the table.
“Is there some problem?”
“Yes,” I said. “How could you send these scouts out without chocolate chip cookies? Do you just *want* them to fail?”
“Excuse me?”
“What kind of a business model is that? Really! It’s only the most popular cookie in American history.” I turned to the scouts. “She’s not doing you any favors, guys--”
“Sir, this is our selection. If you’re not interested—“
“And these other flavors? Really, who came up with these things?”
“Sir, I’m going to get the store security right now—“
“What are these coconut things? You know that Somosa was a South American dictator, don’t you? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Melia, please go get the officer in the store.” Den Mother’s authority was starting to unravel, I thought.
“Don’t bother, Melia,” I said. “In fact, you know the Beverly Center? There’s someone there you need to see instead. Mrs. Fields is her name. You’ve heard of her, haven’t you?” I glared at the Den Mother. “You can’t beat the other troops this way, girls, believe me. You’re part of one American institution—you can’t just abandon another. How can y-”
“Sir, I’m calling 911.” Her voice was raised, and people started to watch. She pulled out a phone and was pressing buttons.
“Well, then I’ll wait ‘til you’re finished.” I spoke to the by-standers. “Can you explain to me why these Girl Scouts don’t sell chocolate chip cookies?” No one had an answer.
At that moment, I remembered the meeting I had to go to. “Think about that, everyone!” Then, to the Den Mother, “You especially. Why can’t you just explain that to me?”
Can anyone explain to me why?
