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My life as a pastry pariah

Caitlin Hildebran, 17, left, Emily Daivs, 16, center, and Megan VanHoogmoed, 11, load Girl Scout cookie boxes into waiting vehicles during the Girl Scouts Heart of Central California's Mega Drop event at Big Valley Church in Modesto, California, Monday, February 20, 2012. Approximately 322,130 packages of cookies were distributed to Girl Scout troops for delivery. (Bart Ah You/Modesto Bee/MCT)

I have a confession to make.

It’s not one I make to be contrarian or different. I have felt this way for years and I seem to be the only person I know who feels this way.

I hate Girl Scout cookies.

I don’t understand the love for these bland, dry and frankly overrated treats. They are the things I eat at two in the morning after I have scoured every corner of the cupboards and checked the fridge three times.

I’ve tried them all (somehow they always randomly show up at your job, office or anywhere else), but not a single one has connected with me the way they seem to with others.

Yet, every year I internally groan as I walk up to the grocery store, only to see a group of girls with a table of boxes stacked above their heads. My only option is to steel myself and try not to feel bad as they all sweetly ask, “Do you want to buy some Girl Scout cookies!?”

Of course I don’t.

Thin Mints are plain, Savannah Smiles taste like chalk and I’m pretty sure the shortbread cookies are repurposed cardboard. I especially don’t want to buy a box while I’m walking into a grocery store where I can buy a bag of chocolate chip or peanut butter cookies baked fresh in the bakery.

They take over everything. Did you know that Breyers made Girl Scout cookie ice cream? Is nothing sacred?

Even on campus I can’t escape them.

Just last week I was walking to my car only to see a mother and daughter with a wagon full of boxes. Immediately the mother nudged her daughter who perked up at the sight of a potential customer.

I can only imagine my mood walking by matched the enthusiasm of a french noble heading up to a guillotine.

It wouldn’t be so bad if they didn’t use kids to sell them. I feel nothing when I turn down the random people asking me to join their bible study. The only thing I’m risking there is eternal damnation, but turning down a kid makes my soul feel a little heavier and blacker.

Despite my inability to understand the love of Girl Scout cookies, I can’t argue they are a hallmark of American culture. They have a long history that stretches back to 1917.

According to an article from Fortune, the Girl Scouts made about $776 million in sales in 2015, which equals 194 million boxes sold. This is enough to put the Girl Scouts as no. 3 in the cookie industry.

Truly impressive, considering the cookies are only sold for six to eight weeks a year.

If that’s not mind-boggling enough, just know that this percentage is down from the year before and was considered a slump for the organization. A company that made close to a billion dollars in less than half a year is disappointed.

Now, I don’t want anyone to think I have anything against the Girl Scouts as an organization. Their goal of providing young girls a place to learn and grow is admirable.

Even the cookie program is meant to teach them skills such as “goal setting,” “decision making,” “money management,” “people skills” and “business ethics.”

My cousins were all part of Girl Scouts for years and loved the experience. Every year they took part in the cookie sale and my family was more than happy to help them out by coercing their coworkers into buying as many boxes as they carry.

As someone who spent a good portion of my childhood as a cub scout I have great memories of camping. It’s a great way to make new friends and learn new skills. Some of my best memories as a kid were going on trips or going camping with my friends.

My complaint is the short period of the year when I can’t escape my sugary nemesis. Unfortunately, all I can do is accept that he is too far entrenched for me to make any difference.

So enjoy your cookies, but please…don’t ask me to tagalong.

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