Samoas and Sass: Since When Do Girl Scouts Have Attitudes?

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My neighbor recently accosted me outside my house, as I was getting my mail. I say neighbor because I don’t actually know her name. I only know her as Mustang Sally because, well, she drives a white Mustang, and I like the song. I’ve got both my boyfriend and his son singing it every time they see her car in the driveway.

Anyhoo – she made some small talk about not seeing my boyfriend and me much since the weather started getting colder, and I half-heartedly said, “Oh, well, you know, we’re hunkering down.” Hunkering down? What, like every time the temperature drops below 50 degrees, my boyfriend and I board up the windows and doors, waiting out the… storm?

She asked if her daughter could come by later to sell me Girl Scout cookies. C’mon, who among us doesn’t like a couple of Thin Mints (or the entire box) with our evening tea?

After agreeing, I closed the door and texted my boyfriend to see if he knew Mustang’s real name, just in case she came over with Mustang Sally, Jr. (Honestly, I had no idea how old this child was and if she needed a parental unit to walk her across the driveway.)

My boyfriend texted me back her name. Hmm, curious. How come he knew that and I didn’t?  Regardless, armed with her real name, I was ready to place an order with – oh, yeah, I don’t know Mustang Jr.’s name either. I am a horrible neighbor! Mustang even brought over cupcakes during the holidays and I did not reciprocate. I know, horrible!

The doorbell rang and there was Mustang Jr. alone, with her order sheet. No “Hello” or “Hi, I’m selling Girl Scout cookies, would you like to buy some?” Maybe Mustang told her that I was an easy sell, and she didn’t have to go through the whole Girl Scout cookie selling act, but a little enthusiasm would’ve been nice.

Then there was an awkward moment. Who was going to fill out the form. I was confused. I would’ve thought that she would want to but oh, how wrong I was. She handed me the form and a pen, and just stood there and watched.

Shouldn’t she have to do some work to earn her sales? Isn’t that a Girl Scout value or principle? I took the form and started making small talk because in cases like these (in all cases, really) I need people (even little people) to like me. She gave me nothing but a bored look on her face.

“Well, I must have the Thin Mints and Trefoils.”

I thought the boxes were five dollars each, so I was prepared to break out an even twenty. “How much are they again? Would you like me to pay you now?” I always assume that salespeople want the money upfront. She said, “Eh, you can pay later, it really doesn’t matter.”

I made my choices, and started to hand her the form. “Do you want to add it up, or…”

She was getting even more bored. “Eh, it really doesn’t matter.” She didn’t move, so I added it up for her. Thank God it was simple math. I couldn’t give her a twenty and I sensed that it might be bothersome to make change. I was trying to be considerate, so I said, “Would you prefer if I paid you now?”

I thought she was going to explode. She pulled out this tude, actually huffed and said, “IT SO DOESN’T MATTER.”

I wanted to take back my order and slam the door in her face but instead I abruptly said, “Fine, I’ll give it to you when I get my cookies.” She was already halfway down the front stairs by the time I finished my sentence.

Wow, talk about entitlement! Like I need that from someone whose name I don’t even know AND who’s going to make me fat come March when my order comes in!

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