Gosh Darn Girl Scouts!

Spring is my favorite time of year. The days are longer. The wind tunnels on Hudson are slightly more bearable. Birds chirp happily outside my widow - along with the garbage trucks and drunken NYU students de rigueur.

But there is one thing that my pre-Alzheimer's ridden brain always forgets to associate with springtime:

Well let's not kid ourselves, it's

more like this actually...

I have heart palpitations every year as I rip into my first box of Samoas and hurriedly devour their chocolaty, caramely, coconuty deliciousness. My mouth waters while anxiously waiting for the Thin Mints to finish their rendezvous with the freezer (because really that's the only way to eat them).

However, this ridiculously cold spring has brought with it two unfortunate events. Said events have turned my excitement over the advent of Girl Scout cookie season into bitterness and despair.

About a month ago, I was wandering down the baking aisle of Gross-tedes. I had to purchase some Devil's Food cake mix - the likes of which they don't sell at Whole Foods. I was innocently bopping around, listening to my iPod, getting it done, when all of a sudden the Girl Scouts sneak attacked. I spied out of corner of my little eye SAMOAS ICE CREAM. What? Is this a dream? I thought to myself. I darted to the freezer and sure enough, Edy's (goddamn you Edy's!) was selling a Special Edition Samoas flavored ice cream. I kid not.

SABOTAGE!! Why oh why oh why! I paced around the aisles, debating with myself, the Devil bickering with the Angel - "But it's a limited edition!" - "Yeah but it's still ice cream!" - "But it's Slow Churned!" Usually I wouldn't give a shit about the calories. But since this stupid city has just become one big, giant, in-your-face calorie counter, http://www.usatoday.com/news/health/weightloss/2008-04-16-nyc-calories_N.htm, I have become hyper-sensitive to everything I throw down the old gullet. Ah, I digress.

Needless to say, the Devil won. If you know me, you know I canNOT say no to anything sweet. Not ever.

It wasn't love at first spoonful. But after the third bowl a week later, I was officially hooked. Suddenly I was nervous - the words "LIMITED EDITION" flashed before my eyes. I wanted more, more, MORE and what if there wasn't any left!? Ever the hoarder, anxiety pressing upon me like a heart attack, I booked it to Gristedes the next day after work, foregoing the gym.

Woe was me that rainy afternoon when, hands frozen from pawing through the freezer, arms numb from holding too many gallons while I excavated, despair encroaching, tears welling - it hit me. There was nothing but some Thin Mints and some Tagalongs left. Sigh.

I reached for the Thin Mints with a heavy heart. Eventually, though, my super stubborn taste buds gave way and I will admit that, while not as delicious as my beloved Samoas, it was pretty yummy. I daresay that I ended up liking the Thin Mints more! But, ever the little shits, the Girl Scouts begrudged me once again.

I went to three, THREE different Gristedes and one Dag's in my search for the Thin Mints ice cream. But noooooo, it was a Limited Edition and thus available nevermore, nevermore. I settled for some Edy's Loaded Cookie Dough. It was fiiiiiine, but seriously? All I can say is goddamn you Girl Scouts and your once a year cookie selling spree. Why oh why must you torture me so?

Up yours Edy's! Up yours Girl Scouts!

Feeling very bitter and depressed about the Limited Edition Samoas AND Thin Mints, I came into work with a giant (chocolate) chip (with stupid cookie dough) on my shoulder. Things were somewhat looking up though - I had discovered that my friend has an ice cream maker - I could MAKE my own Girl Scout cookies ice cream! Brilliant! Alas, when I opened my Outlook and scanned subjects for levels of import, one email with three small words immediately caught my eye: Girl Scout Cookies.

WHO ARE THESE IMPOSTERS? Pah, they call themselves Girl Scouts? Where is the decency?

These young girls do not deserve to raise those sacred three fingers and say that most hallowed oath, "On my honor, I will try/To serve God and my country/To help people at all times/And to live by the Girl Scout Law." On your honor - you dishonorable little brats! Having your parents email their friends and coworkers, peddling away your cookies while on the clock with more pressing matters at hand? And apparently it's a growing phenomenon:

http://www.cnn.com/2009/LIVING/02/04/girl.scout.cookie.ethics/index.html?iref=newssearch

Fine, fine, so going door to door may be a little dangerous these days but seriously, in the words of Bon Jovi: You Give Girl Scouts a Bad Name. No dankes! Now go sell em yourself, you little lazies! Like I did with my most honorable Brownie Troop #186 in Sharon, CT so many years ago:

Yes. Yes that is indeed a box of Thin Mints in my hand.

So although those gosh darn Girl Scouts have two strikes against them, my knees will no doubt grow weak at the first mention of "Samoas" each spring. And until they get that third strike, I will continue to gobble them down a box at a time.