The door bell rang, then was repeatedly rang, somewhat insistently.
Knowing that Señora probably was not hearing the door bell, I dropped what I was doing in the basement, and I went upstairs to answer the front door.
Standing on our stoop was a young lady, well, more accurately, a little girl around nine or ten, dressed very casually. Without a preamble, without a howdy, without presenting any sort of credentials, without any sort of salesperson’s lead up to the closing question, she said, “wanna buy some Girl Scout cookies?”
Not totally taken back, but somewhat surprised by her brusqueness, I replied, “Life is a parade of absurdities and pain, and then we die, alone, in filth. So, yes, little girl, I will buy a box of Thin Mints.”
Suddenly the hairs on the nape of my neck stood up and I heard Señora behind me, “DAVID! Don’t you think that was a little over the top?”
Addressing our little salesperson, Señora went on, “You will have to excuse my husband. He suffers from what COULD well be a terminal case of curmudgeonitis. How many different types of Girl Scout cookies are there?”
Looking at her sales sheet and slowly counting, she replied, “eleven.”
To which Señora answered, “Good. My husband will take one of each, and I KNOW he will gladly pay for them.”
Well, there goes the waist line.
Okay, okay, the story was made up.
On the Internet, I came across this line presented in a meme format: “Life is a parade of absurdities and pain, and then we die, alone, in filth. So, yes, little girl, I will buy a box of Thin Mints.” Thinking that be must be more to the story, I came up with the above scenario. However, it could have very well have played out around here.
And so it goes.
