Girl Scout Gone Rogue

Girl Scout Gone Rogue
“We’ll wear tan pants,” the troop leader said. “And matching T-shirts.” Oh no. I thought. This is going to be a challenge. When my daughter told me her Girl Scout Troop sold enough cookies to take a trip to New York, I was thrilled — until I learned I’d have to go, too. These aren’t the scouts I grew up with. Now, there’s a rule for everything. “If you go to the bathroom, take someone with you. At least two adults must be with the girls at all times.” I visualized our group in the subway: Walk 10 steps, stop, count heads, walk 10 more steps. What a departure from my lifestyle. “Don’t pack bathing suits. We won’t have a certified lifeguard with us.” Perhaps I could take sedatives. I have enough drugs left over from cancer to medicate an army. The problem is that I haven’t had a boss in 20 years. When I quit my job in New York, I moved to California and have been an entrepreneur ever since. People like me are hard to boss around because needless rules are the kiss of death to self-employment. Ignoring them is a survival mechanism. “Suck it up,” my husband said. He tries to boss me all
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