Okay, I’m a sucker – especially for Girl Scout Cookies. There are worse things, right?
Rewind back to 1989. I was 29 years old, had a family, was gainfully employed, and had a foothold on a music career that was more love than dream. It was mid-summer, and I was alone and recording vocals in my makeshift home studio.
The doorbell rang.
That’s not so unusual, door bells ring all around the world, right? Just not in the middle of East Texas on a hot July day, twelve miles from the nearest town, and not on a Saturday. I was dressed in army camo pants that were cut off at the knees, a Def Leppard t-shirt and worn tennis shoes. My hair looked like something from a Broadway production of Rocky Horror Picture Show, I had a half bottle of Gatorade in one hand and a red Fender Stratocaster in the other. I answered the bell.
Standing on the other side of the door were two of the cutest Girl Scouts I had ever seen – selling Girl Scout cookies, their mother behind them waiting patiently in the car. When the girls, who looked to be about 10 to 12 years of age, got a full look at me their jaws dropped open.
“Hello. Kinda hot to be selling cookies isn’t it?” I asked.
The oldest stepped forward, “Yes, but it’s for a good cause, and we’ve only sold 10 boxes today.”
The younger, apparently braver than her business partner, spoke up as she eyed me curiously, “Are you a rock star?”
“No,” I said – adding to myself, not yet. At 29, if you haven’t made it yet, there is about a 2% chance you will. That’s why I was writing and recording demos and not out all over Texas trying to be discovered.
“Would you like to buy some Girl Scout Cookies?”
“Sure, how many do you need to sell to meet your goal?” I asked before taking a swig of Gatorade.
“I don’t know, let me ask my mom,” said the youngest.
While we waited for her return, the oldest asked, “Can you play? You look like you can.”
I turned the volume control up and ripped through five arpeggios like a gunfighter.
“Wow,” was all she said.
The youngest member of Girl Scouts ‘R’ Us came back and said, “We need to sell sixty more boxes before we order on Friday.”
“What flavors do you have?” I asked. It really didn’t matter, I was going for broke anyway.
“We have mint, oatmeal, chocolate chip, and we have shortbread, but they’re yucky.”
“I’ll take fifty boxes of the mint,” I said as casually as I could, thinking, ‘my wife is going to kill me’. But that many cookies goes a long way. I wouldn’t have to buy cookies for six months.
The girl looked at me like I’d just given her the Brooklyn Bridge. “Fifty boxes…” she stammered.
I just wrote the check out and handed it to her.
I love Girl Scout Cookies. What can I say?
Their mother got out of the car and walked up on the porch. When the girls showed her the order, she said, “You didn’t have to do that.”
Yes, yes I did. And I’d do it again.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR. Shipwrecked and found. John is currently doing a recent two-year set off, after 25 years of incarceration. He wishes he could buy Girl Scout Cookies in prison. He can be contacted at:
John Green #671771
C.T. Terrell Unit A150
1300 FM655
Rosharon, TX 77583
