Lightning. Twice. Same Spot.
They say lightning doesn't strike twice in the same spot. But I'm here to tell you it does. In the form of Girl Scouts.

Last year I had this encounter with Girl Scout Cookies. This past weekend, they were out again, in the same exact spot where they struck last year. It was creepy. Almost. But this year I was strangely in the mood for Girl Scout cookies.

Of course, these cookies were the last thing on my mind when I left the house Saturday. I didn't even realize it was Cookie Season again. I was just out to run some errands. But I eventually found myself near the card store where they attacked me last year, and there they were again. Just like last year. Everywhere. Making people want to buy cookies.

I didn't need to go to the card store, but I did need to go to another store in the same parking lot. I was tempted to go to the card store just to buy some cookies, but then again, I was frightened. I'd survived last year's tangle with the Girl Scouts, being rewarded with a box of Samoas that didn't last long enough. This year, the challenge presented itself again. And I already had a taste for the cookies.

I made up my mind. The lure of the cookie was too great. I would buy some cookies. . .

. . . after I go to the other store. I figured spending some time in the bookstore would help me clear my head about the Girl Scouts. By the time I finished there, I would know without a doubt if I should venture over to the card store for the cookies. And I would have worked up the courage to face them head on.

I parked by the bookstore, looked one last time across the parking lot at the herd of Girl Scouts (making sure they were still there and didn't realize I was coming), took a deep breath, and entered the bookstore through the Girl-Scout-free entrance. It was peaceful. No boxes of cookies flying about. I could think clearly in here, then make my way across the parking lot for a cookie purchase when I was good and ready for it.

I spent some time wandering through the bookstore, found the book I needed, and proceeded to the checkout station to pay for the book. I was feeling good.

Then I stepped outside, into the sunshine. What a nice day . . .

"HI! Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies? They're only three dollars a box."

What the??? Had I exited the bookstore to find myself across the parking lot in front of the card store? No way. That's impossible!

I looked down to see a short girl in Girl Scout uniform, wielding boxes of cookies, peering back up at me with a hopeful smile. Where did she come from? They've been tracking me ever since I entered the parking lot! They knew it was me! They've hunted me down! The fear that had left while I was in the bookstore suddenly returned.

I looked over and saw several more Girl Scouts, a parent or two (including a dad), and a table full of many boxes of cookies.

Are you kidding me???

During the twenty minutes that I was in the bookstore, another wave of Girl Scouts had set up shop in front of the bookstore, as if from nowhere. I went in- no Girl Scouts. I come out- Girl Scouts with cookies. It was an ambush! Once again, I couldn't escape.

This killed my plan to make my way across the parking lot and buy cookies on my own terms. I was trying to avoid being forced into a cookie-buying escape route. Why did I have to come to this shopping center on this day?? Will I never learn??

The kid with the cookies was still staring at me, practically loading boxes of cookies into my book bag and foraging in my purse for cash. Then, the dad started talking to me. He smiled and said something dad-ish about how they only have a few boxes left, referring to the overly-full table of cookies they had just set up. It was a dad-scout-cookie joke. And it was the last straw.

I smiled and said I would gladly take two boxes of Samoas. I handed over six dollars, and received two tiny boxes of my coveted Samoas in return. The whole group smiled at me and wished me a good day. I think I was their first purchase of the day. I smiled back at them, then left and made my way to the Jeep.

With cookies.

At least it saved me a trip across the parking lot to a store I didn't need to visit.

But next year, I vow to do this Girl Scout cookie thing on my terms . . .

Do you think two boxes of Samoas will last that long?

C.T.

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