An Open Letter Apology to Girl Scout Troop 854
To the dignified young ladies of Troop 854,
It is with great shame and embarrassment that I submit to you my deepest and sincerest apologies for my horrific, inappropriate behavior last Saturday.
I have no defense to make. There was no reason for me to be as intoxicated as I was on a Saturday afternoon, and there is certainly no excuse for my belligerent actions toward your troop.
My first apology is owed to Heather Reynolds, the first young lady with whom I spoke. She was sunny and pleasant and completely undeserving of my misdirected rage. It was not her fault that your troop had run out of Samoas, and I was remiss to scream a 15-second long string of obscenities at her. No child should have to hear phrases like “asscramming motherfucking Soviet Russia goddamn bullshit” and “limpdicked leftist shit-steam.” I’m especially horrified that I called her a “brace-faced Trotskyite wannabe shithead.” The extended comparison to widespread rationing during the Second World War was not only a trivialization of real struggle, but also riddled with language unfit for the ears of impressionable children. Most importantly, I should never have told Heather she was adopted, and I certainly shouldn’t have told her I wished her parents had been more careful when they accidentally conceived her. I had never met Heather and knew nothing about the particulars of her parentage, and I’m disgusted with myself for making those comments — especially since learning that Heather actually was adopted because her biological parents did not want to raise her.
My second apology is to Georgie Galloway, another sweet young lady who I subjected to undue verbal assault. With all the best intentions, Georgie found a lull in my vociferous condemnation of the Samoa shortage to suggest I purchase a box of Trefoils as an alternative. Although I still do maintain that this was a shortsighted comment on her part, I was wrong to redirect my aggression at her earnest attempt to rectify the situation. The profane rant that ensued was an unreasonable exaggeration of the truths at hand, and included a number of references to the Old Testament that may have lacked in accuracy. I further apologize for referring to Georgie as a “shortbread-gargling succubus bitch” for the remainder of our encounter. My interactions with her were unpardonable, and exhibited an astounding level of immaturity.
My third apology is to Rachel Morales, with whom I began speaking after I had reduced Georgie to tears. I may have been rather insensitive when, upon learning that her parents are Filipino, I asked her if she spoke Tagalong. As if that behavior were not already unsuitable enough, I only made matters worse by retelling my “joke” several times to the crowd of onlookers that had at that point gathered to observe my gruesome misconduct.
I will add that, although they were fortunate enough to not have heard my unbefitting comments, I owe a heartfelt apology to all the courageous Americans who suffered on the Bataan Death March. I am well aware of the logistical improbability of Girl Scout Cookies having been available to nourish the prisoners, and it was deeply disrespectful to suggest that Ms. Morales “should have given them some Girl Scout Cookies, though probably even they wouldn’t eat any goddamn Trefoils. Do you hear that, Georgie?”
It goes without saying that my actions on Saturday cannot be excused, nor do I expect them to be forgiven. I feel nothing but shame about my actions, and through my forthcoming 100 hours of community service, I hope to prove to Troop 854 and our community at large that, at heart, I am a good man who does not make a habit of comparing a routine Samoa shortage to the Irish Potato Famine.