This one is a bit of advice for those Girl Scout moms out there. As you know, cookie season is headed our way and there’s a lot that’s changed since those years when we were wearing that vest. Nowadays us parents have to commit to a number of cookies which are then given to us and become our sole financial responsibility whether they sell or not. No more order forms for today’s scouts!
One thing that hasn’t changed one bit, though, is the competitive nature of cookie season, whether its between troops or even between girls in the same troop. I don’t know about you ladies, but I like to win. I like to dominate. Ladies whose dreams felt unreachable and had kids as a fallback to say they did something with their lives and now all they really have in existence is being a mother: I’m talking to you.
So, on the faith that no one in my competing scout district reads this blog, here it is: Cosmocharlatan’s Scout Success Guide.
1. Location, location, location
Sure, the troop leaders will let you rent out a table at their local grocery store or shopping mall, but you’ve got your own cookies now. That means a bitch is mobile. Get your own $5 plastic table and set that shit up outside the nearest head shop. My girl scout and I live in Colorado, so there’s plenty to choose from. But even if it’s not legal in your state, look for stores that are pretending to be medical facilities but have unqualified staff and no background in medicine. Look for any store with the following words in the title: green, earth, natural, healing, meds, alternative, canna (random noun), herbal, remedy, etc.
Once you’ve got your head shop and have your dollar store display, get ready for a never-ending stream of the hungriest customers in your area. Best of all, they’re not health-conscious and their spending money is all cash.
I hear a lot of people frowning on freelance espionage in today’s society. They call it “snooping” or “intruding” or “breaking and entering.” Feh. I call it “being informed.” The way I see it, if you’re going to exist on the same planet as me, you’re gonna have my nose in your shit. Not literally.
If you’re the kind of woman who more accurately fits the description of “unofficial private investigator” than “wife and mother,” welcome to the club. No need for introductions, I already know your name. I also have your dental records.
Now while society is busy frowning on you for swabbing their glasses for DNA samples, you’re gonna be putting those skills to use to obliterate the competition.
Find out the girls in your troop. Find their mothers. Find their fathers, wherever the hell they may be. Find where they’re selling and who they’ve sold to and how many cookies. Find their weaknesses and strengths, their pressure points and combat skills. Get a map of the fire exits in their apartment buildings, the schematics to their house. Know your enemy. Defeat your enemy.
Once you’ve learned the ins and outs of those pint-sized adversaries, you must employ an ancient sales tactic. Help them to help you. Sure, you can rely on your cookie selling skills, but wouldn’t it be a bit more lucrative if the competition had a bit of an infestation in their boxes? It may be cold in February, but there’s lots of hideous creatures skittering around if you’re willing to dig. And believe me, sister, winners are willing to dig.
Wouldn’t it also be advantageous if the customers’ electronic sales were charged as $80 a box instead of $5? It only takes a small amount of technical know-how to tamper with the average girl scout mom’s “apple square” that she plugs into her phone. This technique may take a week or so to reach a crescendo, but it will be a glorious one indeed. This is an excellent tactic to use on your most intimidating competitor due to the likelihood of them being disbanded from girl scouts and/or arrested.
4. No Small Amount of Bullshit
Size up your customers to see what might interest them, then lie your ass off.
“No, lady in fitness equipment, there’s no carbs, sugar or calories in this cookie. Those are old boxes. This year’s cookies are basically air that tastes like heaven and hits you like cocaine.”
“Why yes, creepy-looking older man whom I won’t let too close to my child, these are penis-enlarging peanut butter tagalongs.”
“As a matter of fact, arrogant bloke pushing thirty in a dorky red hat cause you think nobody gets the Holden Caulfield reference, these cookies will, in fact, get publishers to call you back about that manuscript you call an epic.”
Hopefully this helps those of you who are not competing against my girl scout. If any of my readers are competing against us this month, take this article as a warning. You have made a powerful enemy.