Evidence of my betrayal.
My neighborhood is full of Girl Scouts selling cookies. There is one who sets up shop right outside the Starbucks, with a card table and a mildly hovering mother, like a corporate lemonade stand. I managed to NOT buy the latte, but couldn't resist the Thin Mints. Ok, fine. It's once a year. That's not a fail, even though I had declared this to be No Sweets March (only coincidentally occurring with Lent). I suppose it might have been a fail to eat one of the sleeves while waiting for my beer. BUT STILL. That is not the fail this post is about.
Two hours later, I went to the grocery store for cat food and San Pelligrino (of course). Just past the bagger, a rival troop was set up, complete with card table and mildly hovering mother. But - armed with (half) a box of Thin Mints in my bag - I just smiled and wished them luck. On the way out, I was accosted by two more Girl Scouts, members of the same troop, clearly there to ensnare victims going into the store and to guilt those of us who had managed to escape.
"Buy some cookies?" they pleaded.
And this is where it happened. "Oh, I just did!" I said, showing them the box in my messenger bag. One of them gave me a high five, and the other said, "Gee, thanks!" Or something like that. Possibly less Jimmy Olson-ish.
I lied to them. I bought cookies from their nemesis and passed the box off as their own.
I lied to Girl Scouts.