Thin Mint Reminiscence

    Thin Mints, in my opinion, are the purest substance on earth.  Not only do they represent the innocence and bliss of girl scouts, but they are also coated in chocolate.  For most, Thin Mints take one back in time, to the simplicity and joy of childhood, but for me the sweet Thin Mint Reminiscence only reminds me of bitter judgment and low self esteem. It all goes back to June 14, 2001, the day the Thin Mint lost its innocence.
    It was a normal day, just like any other beautiful June day in Colorado, but to me it was more than just June 14: it was my day. It was my day to finally be independent and do something on my own. In hindsight, I was a rather over zealous seven year old. That morning dragged on forever, the world couldn’t possibly be moving any slower. Finally 9:00 hit and we were out the door. Driving up that curvy, mountain road, I was filled with anticipation. I played scenes from the parent trap over and over in my head, picturing what my British twin would look like. Just before my anticipation was about to overflow, I saw a sign marked, “WELCOME GIRL SCOUTS OF 2001”. Girl Scout. That was who I was, finally some distinction from every other seven year old.  Unable to control my eagerness, I was actually bouncing up and down in my seat. I made us park as close as possible so I could be the first Girl Scout into my cabin, and I was. I was the very first to arrive, the only other person in my cabin was my counselor.  She told my parents they were free to go, so they said their goodbyes, and left before any of the other girls arrived. Two hours had passed when I had decided I hated Jamie. Jamie was my “Friendly Counselor”, as her nametag described. In the last two hours we had only spoken twice. Once about my buckteeth, she asked me if I was unaware that they were so bucked. The other was about how many freckles I had and that each freckle is a mini tumor waiting to happen. She then helped herself to the ‘counselor’s only’ fridge and left me by myself to twiddle my thumbs for another hour. Finally I hear the slam of a car door.  A young blond girl walked in with all six of her bags, concentrating extremely hard on how not to fall over. I quickly took two of the bags, helping her regain some balance. Michelle and I were best friends at once. We had nothing in common, but that kept conversations interesting. We played cards until the remaining twelve girls arrived. Once our entire cabin was present we headed down to the dining hall. It was filled with hundreds of girls, screaming, and shouting even crying girls all so happy to be reunited again. Michelle and I sat together with the rest of our cabin through opening assembly, after we were all sent to a marshmallow roasting. Apparently Michelle knew Linda, a girl I had not had the privilege of meeting, and her band of loyal cohorts. As I watched them talk from across the fire my stomach turned, as they kept gesturing to me very blatantly and giving me harsh looks. Finally Michelle came over to where I was sitting and told me she wasn’t allowed to hang out with me anymore. Linda’s rules. Then without another word she turned and walked back to Linda. I was horrified and enormously embarrassed.  I tried to hide my tears, but my lack of clear vision caused my marshmallow to fall into the fire, giving Linda’s gang one more reason to laugh in my face, which they did.  The next day I tried to pretend I had broken both my legs and couldn’t walk, my counselor wasn’t as dumb as I concluded, so I found myself with all the other girls walking to breakfast, but I was alone. When we reached the dinning hall it was blueberry pancake day. All my excitement channeled forward as I raced to the line, subconsciously bumping into my new nemesis. She simply glared at me and muttered, “You’ll pay.” I was scared out of my mind, so scared when I reached the front of the line I got oatmeal instead of pancakes. Still trembling I walked back to our cabin’s assigned table, Linda nowhere in sight. Suddenly I stumbled over something and in the brief moment I had, looked down to see Linda’s dainty foot, I hit the ground hard, and my oatmeal flew up and somehow landed perfectly back onto my head. I squealed, capturing the attention of the entire cafeteria. This torment went on for days - locking me out of bathrooms, rocking my bunk while I was sleeping, stealing my chair from the dinning hall forcing me to stand, and the constant jabbing. Michelle was starting to become their leader, sharing the reigns with Linda in controlling their mindless cronies. I had to escape. I ran into the bathroom and hid for 4 hours straight, I told my counselor I had been vomiting all day. I did this for three days until she finally understood that I wanted to go home. When my parents arrived all my bags were already packed and I was at the door. We left immediately, warning them that I might throw up anytime. When we got in the car my mom felt my head and I wasn’t anywhere near a fever.  When she asked me why I had been constantly throwing up, I panicked and told her that I had just eaten too many thin mints.