Every winter it’s the same story. There I am, just sitting on the couch watching TV and wondering why Jay Mohr still has a career, when the doorbell rings. And on the other side of the door awaits….Evil.
“Hi, Mrs. Aarons!”
“Oh, crap. It’s you again.”
“How are you today?”
“I’m fine.”
“Great! I just wanted to know if you’d like to…”
“No. I don’t. Thank you. Good-bye.”
“Um, wait! Wait, Mrs. Aarons!”
“Oh, my God—did you just stick your foot in the door? Have you no shame?”
“Mrs. Aarons, wouldyouliketobuysomeGirlScoutcookies?”
(sigh) “Madison, are we really gonna do this dance again? Don’t I tell you every year that this’ll be my last year buying your crackhead cookies? Don’t I?”
“Yes, but…”
“And didn’t I even waddle over to your house last year and show you what your stupid Samoas did to my butt? Do you remember that? Remember the three pairs of industrial Spanx I had to wear just to keep me from looking like a post-Britney K-Fed? Does that ring a bell?”
“Yes, but…”
“And now, now that I’ve finally, finally returned to my fighting weight, you actually have the gall to roll up here in your Radio Flyer wagon and try to get me hooked AGAIN? Have you no shame, woman? I WILL NOT BE YOUR COOKIE WENCH, MADISON!”
“Yes, but…have you tried our Shortbread cookies?”
“If you’re referring to the Shortbread cookies that I crushed up and snorted through a straw on my kitchen counter last year, then yeah, Madison, I’ve tried those. And I’ve also figured out that, despite their deceitful name, Thin Mints are not actually a weight loss supplement. Now please, go home.”
“OK, Mrs. Aarons, but would you like to just try this Tagalong sample? You don’t have to buy anything. I promise.”
“Oh…Madison. Madison, Madison, Madison. You think I don’t know that the first hit is always free? Do I look that innocent? Do I look that naive? Listen, sister, I’ve been around the block. I’ve watched ‘Sid and Nancy.’ I’ve been to Amsterdam. I’m as street as they come, my homes.”
“Just try it. One bite.”
“Fine. I’ll take a stupid bite. I’ll just…OHGAWDOHMYGAWDOHMYGAWDOHMYGAWD!”
“So, should I just go unload my wagon in your garage like usual, Mrs. Aarons?”
“Yes, Madison. That’d be fine.”
“Are you okay, Mrs. Aarons?”
“Oh, I’m good, Madison. Real good. Real effin’ good. I’m just going to stay here curled up in a little ball of shame and lick my fingers for a few minutessss…mmmmmmmm…”
“Okay, well nice doing business with you again, Mrs. Aarons.”
“Oh, you, too, Madison. A pleasure. And, um, see you next year. You little cookie pushin’ wench.”
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