Showing posts with label girl scout cookies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label girl scout cookies. Show all posts

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Dear Girl Scouts,


I wonder if it comes as a surprise to you that the absolute best customer service I have received in the past umpteen months came in the form of three 8-year-old girls selling cookies.

As I pulled into the Publix parking lot on this chilly central Florida evening, I noticed a table covered in little orange, green, pink and blue boxes. It's almost Valentine's Day, but it might as well have been Christmas, and those boxes of delightfulness might as well have been Christmas presents.

Elated, I grabbed my boyfriend's arm, but he already knew.

"I see them, Carissa.” Even when it comes to Girl Scout cookies, he just has to play it cool.

Ignoring his indifference towards those seasonal flavors of paradise, I said, "We need to get some cash."

As we walked towards the store entrance, one of the young girls sashayed in front of us.

"Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies?"

"Yes! Of course we would," I replied, in my most gleeful moment of the week. "I love Girl Scout cookies!"

My boyfriend is an expert when it comes to puncturing my mood, and he informed the young’un that we had to go get cash. She read my mind.

"There's an ATM to the right of the entrance!"

I laughed, and my boyfriend told this little leader of the pack that we'd get some cash inside. Really, as I found out merely moments later, he just wanted to discuss privately how many boxes I was limited to gracing our kitchen with. The girl saw my eagerness to buy and fear of missing out, and in an endearing attempt to restore my confidence, she said, “Don’t worry, we’ll be here when you’re done.”

Inside Publix, my boyfriend confessed his fear that between those three little girls, we’d end up buying the entire table.

“Don’t be silly,” I told him, “They’re just Girl Scouts, they aren’t going to replace all your cash with crumbs or something!”

He chuckled at the allegorical comment. Secretly, I knew (as a former Girl Scout) that those girls were perfectly capable of replacing his cash, but it would be with Thin Mints and Shortbreads, not crumbs.

I hurried him along in the store and within 10 minutes we were outside again, face to face with the Girl Scouts. I quickly picked out a box of Peanut Butter Patties. The leader of the three handed me the box, as I said, jokingly, “These better be good.”

“They’re the best patties around!” she replied, with enthusiasm that I certainly never see from the typical sales person anymore. 

My boyfriend indecisively looked at each box. He asked about the Thanks-A-Lot cookies and the girl pointed to her little colleague and said, "Those are her favorites."

Sensing his hesitation, she politely asked, "Do you like chocolate?"

He nodded.

"Would you like to try a Thin Mint?"

And then he was sold.

But that's not the end of my experience. When we were in Publix, we agreed that we could buy three boxes of Girl Scout cookies. I almost got him to agree to four, but then I made a comment about his receding hairline when we walked past the hair products.

I told the chief girl we were going to get one more box. Each of the three 8-year olds told me their favorites and why they were so tasty. One liked Shortbread, one liked Lemonades, and one liked Shout Outs. I shifted my focus to the one who mentioned Lemonades.

"Those sound interesting," I said.

"They are! If you like Shortbread and you like lemons, then you will like them. They have lemony icing!"

"I'll take them," I said, impressed by her delectably descriptive choice of words.

Five boxes later (yup, you read that right - five), as we walked away, I heard one of the girls say, "She's really pretty, mom."

Now there's some customer service. Make every flavor sound delicious, let my indecisive boyfriend sample the one you've calculated to be his best bet, and then ensure I'll be back in the future by complimenting me.

I plan on driving through that parking lot again tomorrow to see if they're still there.