Friday, November 12, 2010

Get ready to buy everything your co-workers kids are selling

 I can't believe I'm doing this...Betty.  I'm sorry.

Want to scar your kid for life?  Send your daughter on her first sales adventure: door to door peddling cookies.  Of course the neighbors aren't going to say no, but they aren't gonna buy me the cookeis.  And faghedddabout little boys and their bear cub pack leaders in the woods.  In tents.

So, I used to be a Girl Scout **shudder** ughhhh.  Oh yeah, Betty was too.  Better you find out here than when the media decides to blow up my election spot and leak pictures all over Guam.  Whatever.  Sweet sash, cool badges - I was the shit.

The lynch pin of the Girl Scout Mantra, "to serve God and my country, TO EAT COOKIES AT ALL TIMES, and to live by the Girl Scout Law"...was totally my thing.  Until my mom volunteered to be the Cookie Mom.  There's always that one girl who makes bank because her parents assault their co-workers, corner them with guilt and sugar.  I hated those parents.

What did those 400 boxes of caramel things get you - a t-shirt and a friendship bead?    Because it got me a weekend of indentured servitude.  My mom made me unload and stack and count (and recount) every fkn box that arrived in our garage.  Hope you're happy.

Sorry that my mom actually expected something of me. She wasn't knocking on doors or even escorting me around the 'hood.  Dad mayyyybe hung the order form outside his office.  You think he wanted to be schlepping boxes like a mule to his building?

And guess what: I still hate those parents.  Because now I have to avoid their eye contact, fake incoming phone calls (mouthing "oh sorry i need to take this!" and sprint in the opposite direction), and pretend I lost my wallet for three weeks.

Start fitting a line in your budget for Cubicle Land Co-Worker Kids.  And like, not even really your co-workers.  Because if Colby fathered a few, I'd buy whatever coupon booklet and candy bar within my allotted budget.  It's cube code...ya kinda hafta.  But c'mon.  If you're calling on me from three floors up and two departments over and I've only seen you once in the mail room, then GTFO.  Do you not see me rationing oatmeal these days??

Basically, I didn't feel bad watching HR call in back ups to help a Girl Scout mom - industrial mover carts and all.  How's that taste?

(fine, i caved.  i felt a little bad. and even offered to help.)

GUYZZ WANNA BUYYY SOME COOK-AYYYYZZZ???  Haha, Corky Romano.  Sly sonofabeetch.

No comments:

Post a Comment