Hello, there, this is the time of Girl Scout Cookies. We had some ladies with their little Brownies commandeer a couple of tables here in the PBC&R this weekend and peddle several varieties of the GS treats. I am not new to the cookie business . . . I wish no one would read over my shoulder because then I wouldn’t have to deal with snide remarks referring to my cookie familiarity and my weight . . . but back to what I was saying before the guffaws started. Okay, I sold Girl Scout cookies when I was in scouting, and I sold them as a Brownie as well as a full-fledged GS. It was different then; I think we had maybe two kinds, sandwich and mint and we went door-to-door.
My first time out, I was a Brownie going with two big girl Girl Scouts. I don’t know what I thought my job would be – tagging along, I suppose – but I definitely remember how it turned out. The two GS walked me to the edge of a porch and told me to go to the door, ring the bell and look way up at the tall adult who answered and ask if he wanted to buy a box of cookies. Then they would come up with the order blanks and do the paperwork. Oh, yeah, they stressed I should grin. I was six and I think missing front teeth. And I wore saddle shoes.
They were right, of course, and when I got to be a Girl Scout (flying up, we called it), I would send the accompanying Brownie up to the door because – dontcha know – Brownies are cuter.