The Things Girl Scouts Will Never Tell You.

Two days ago was the last day that I was allowed to sell girl scout cookies. Therefore, it was the day that I got home from church, yanked on my boots and coat, and marched outside to go door to door down our street, selling the darn things.
As a Girl Scout for almost six years, I feel that I have acquired a list of things that Girl Scouts would love to yell at you, but won't, for fear of losing customers.
Therefore, I have decided to vent as a somewhat anonymous person, on this blog. Somewhat because I know that no one on my street even reads this blog, or even knows who I am. Therefore, I feel relatively safe ranting here.

Things Girl Scouts Won't Tell You:

1. Fill the stupid form out yourself. If you think that it's hard for you with seeing problems to fill out a little, tiny, minuscule bar with your name and address, try doing it with snowy mittens and without any hard surface to write against.
2. No, I don't have hearing or seeing problems. I clearly heard you say "these and these and these", while pointing at the form and then handing it back to me. I however do not have x-ray vision or mind reading abilities. If you'll let me know where to buy those, I'll be sure to pick some up immediately.
3. Despite what you may have heard, inviting me into your home does not make me feel more comfortable. Instead, it puts me in an awkward position between obeying my mother's rule not to enter people's houses, and the wish to get my legs back to a relative warmth.
4. If you absolutely MUST have two doors with doorbells, please put a welcome mat under the one you want me to go to, or I'm afraid I'll just stand there looking slightly stupid before giving up and leaving.
5. Honestly, if you don't want to buy cookies, just say, "No thank you". I don't really want to hear about how your niece/daughter/granddaughter/students/etc. are selling cookies.
6. In fact, don't tell me about how you don't eat sugar either. A polite "no" is much better than a lengthier description. I've come to your house to harass you to buy cookies, not to chat. Once I know that you are not open for buying anything, I don't care about you and I want to leave. End of story.
7. Don't ask me where I live. That's a little creepy.
8. If I say a box is four dollars, it's four dollars. It isn't $3.50, $7.99, or any other crazy number you can come up with. If you continue to question me, I don't know what I'm going to do.
9. Honestly, I don't care what number order you are. So just skip counting down the people.
10. Check or cash? Well, with cash, all you have to do is hand it to me, and all I have to do is shove it in an envelope. Check? Well, you have to question me fifteen billion times on who to make it out too, then search frantically for a pen while I'm standing there holding one, write the check, and then hand it to me. Then I have to look at it, curse quietly in my head because you've made it out to the wrong person, smile, shove it in the envelope, and walk away from the house, mentally facepalming. Now, which of these options seems easier?

There you go. My list of "What Girl Scouts Will Never Tell You."