Where were you, girls?

Dear neighborhood Girl Scouts,

I’ve spent the last week hearing people talk about Girl Scout cookies. Thin Mint this and Samoa that. And I LOVE Thin Mints. I’ve stopped at various grocery stores over the last few days hoping to run into some of you and give you some of my hard-earned money in exchange for crack in cookie form. No luck. Early this evening, I had a couple of hours to kill and decided I would not rest until I had Thin Mints in hand. Google helped me find a Girl Scout cookie locator, and a quick input of my ZIP code confirmed that the Safeway down the road should have what I was looking for. Perfect. I figured the dog and I would walk there, and that the three-mile round-trip trek would make those cookies practically calorie-free. And off we went. I could almost taste those Thin Mints.

Upon arrival, we walked past the entrance and didn’t see a table set up for cookie sales. But I wasn’t going to give up hope. Perhaps you Girl Scouts are selling your wares somewhere other than the entrance. In the produce department? Over the pharmacy counter? Since I couldn’t take the mutt inside, I plopped down on a bench, Wheezy hopped up in my lap, and I made a quick phone call to the Safeway. I learned that you Girl Scouts hadn’t been there today to sell cookies. Were you there yesterday? Yup, two separate groups of ya. And last week? Of course. But on the day I want cookies, you’re nowhere to be found. That’s just great.

So we turned around and headed back. As a consolation prize, I got an ice-cream cone at the neighborhood ice-cream parlor — but not before nearly being hit by a car! (Hey driver of red car pulling out of parking lot next to the library, pay attention!!!) My ice-cream cone — chocolate ginger — was divine. Almost worth three miles, near death and a big ol’ blister.

I’ll find you, Girl Scouts. I will get my Thin Mints. Be prepared. (Isn’t that your motto, anyway?)

See you soon,
Leah