Take me out tonight. Take me anywhere, I don’t care, I don’t care.
My girl scout cookies came yesterday halfway through my second class. I swept them into my backpack, attempting to shield them from the little brown hands waiting to soil them. I remembered them aroudn 10:30 this morning. Presently, I’ve collectively consumed a box, having four intially.
Here is my thought process:
-You order the box to try to help out a coworker’s daughter.
-You feel proud for ordering with the sole intent of assisting a child. Later, you admit to yourself that you would buy the cookies from pretty much anyone, because, in reality, their taste trumps all other foodstuffs.
-The cookies come. Bittersweet. You want to chomp them, but you don’t want to pay for them. You ‘forget’ your checkbook.
-You sit at your desk like the lazy fatass that you are, in my case – a coworker’s desk, and eat all of the cookies. They never make it to your car.
-Shame sets in. How could you have been so powerless. Your wife will be pissed. She can’t know.
-Eventually, you have to pay the broad. You write the check and relive the shame all over again. This will happen again next year. You swear it won’t. You know it will.