I go to Costco on average for 4 or 5 things, and I usually go on the weekends. Here is a quick re-creation of my weekly visit:
Costco on the weekends is more aggravating than trying to play hide and seek with Helen Keller. The anger level begins to rise as soon as I get into the parking lot. There's a line of mini-vans waiting for a space and blocking the entire lane, while Mr. small business owner loads his vehicle with so many supplies that he looks like he's going on a UN mission to Nigeria. Finally, I park so far away that I need binoculars to see a store that is the size of Wembley stadium. What time does the shuttle come by again? I'm not really up for doing a 5K this morning.
When I get to the entrance it's complete mayhem. People are coming out in droves and I am digging through my wallet for the damn membership card that says "Yes I pay $55 a year to come in and buy stuff from you." and the cart guy is pushing 9 million carts in from the parking lot in one long row that also jacks up the entire flow. Then, as soon as I get past the membership ID checker the jagoff in front of me stops and looks around like a tourist at Macchu Picchu. The lady to his left stops right beside him to load her five kids into the cart and the old guy on the right stops and stares at the plasma TV's like he's in the cockpit of the Starship Enterprise. And there I am knowing exactly where I want to go and what I want to buy and I'm facing the defensive line of the 1978 Pittsburgh Steelers.
Twenty minutes into the Costco trip and I'm finally into the store. I get about ten steps in and everything comes to a grinding halt, because there is a free sample lady handing out tunafish on a cracker. People start losing their shit. OOOH I gotta have me some of that. I gotta have it so much that I'll abandon my cart in the middle of the aisle and stand there and eat this cracker. Like they've never had tunafish on a cracker before. Then they make the face, like wow that is good, what's on that again? Tunafish? Amazing! What aisle has the case of tunafish? And where can I find the crackers? Excuse me dude can you get your cart out of the aisle so that I can grab my four items and get out of this place.
I finally get back into the bakery area and what do I see? Chocolate versions of the US Capitol building that are almost life size. Even Augustus from Willie Wonka couldn't finish one of these. And who buys these things? Is that really what you get your kids for Easter? Hey kids, yeah no bunny this year, no colored eggs, no Jesus rising from the dead, just a chocolate, life-size version of the place where bills become laws. "Oh I'm just a bill, yes only a bill and I'm sitting here on Capitol Hill..."
Thirty-five minutes into the trip and I have steaks, wine and I'm making the turn to come down the home stretch to get cereal and diapers, when I see the lady serving crabcakes at the end of the frozen food aisle. Yes! Score! I am so getting hooked up. I see the tray with four left and only one guy in front of me. He stands there and eats one, then he eats two and I'm getting a little impatient, then he grabs the last two and takes them over to his wife. Dude? WTF? The jerk store called and said they're out of you. No way am I waiting for 80 year-old Grandma Moses to open a new package and bake a new batch. Looks like I am-a-no-getting-a-no crabcakes today.
Steaks, wine, cereal and diapers, check-check-check-check. Time to get in line, if only they had an express lane, but of course they don't. Now getting in line on a busy Saturday is like making a pit stop at the Indy 500. You dodge, you weave and finally land in a line behind someone who looks quick, but ends up being a nightmare. Her transaction goes something like this: "Honey have you seen my card? I had it when we came in? Did I leave it in the dog food aisle? Oh nevermind it was in my pocket. HAHAHA it was in my pocket. Ma'am your total is $169.73. Ok, let me write a check. Harold, what's the date? Ooops I wrote 2011 on this one. I guess I'd better write you a new one. I can't believe it's 2012 already, time sure does fly. Those crackers and tunafish were delicious, weren't they?" Hey lady, being behind you, I can attest that time certainly does not fly, in fact it almost stands still. In the time it's taken you to get through the checkout process, I could have played a game of Monopoly from start to finish.
Yes! I am on my way out after somehow spending $95 on four items. Only one more obstacle, the check your receipt against your cart guy. Will I get the I don't give a shit guy who looks for two seconds and marks the receipt or will I get the must check every item guy. Of course I get the latter and because I have my daughter with me he has to mark the receipt with a smiley face. Yo dude, I know you don't have anywhere to go, but my kid hasn't eaten in three hours and is about to lose it, so you can skip the art school drop-out caricature.
Costco on the weekends is more aggravating than trying to play hide and seek with Helen Keller. The anger level begins to rise as soon as I get into the parking lot. There's a line of mini-vans waiting for a space and blocking the entire lane, while Mr. small business owner loads his vehicle with so many supplies that he looks like he's going on a UN mission to Nigeria. Finally, I park so far away that I need binoculars to see a store that is the size of Wembley stadium. What time does the shuttle come by again? I'm not really up for doing a 5K this morning.
When I get to the entrance it's complete mayhem. People are coming out in droves and I am digging through my wallet for the damn membership card that says "Yes I pay $55 a year to come in and buy stuff from you." and the cart guy is pushing 9 million carts in from the parking lot in one long row that also jacks up the entire flow. Then, as soon as I get past the membership ID checker the jagoff in front of me stops and looks around like a tourist at Macchu Picchu. The lady to his left stops right beside him to load her five kids into the cart and the old guy on the right stops and stares at the plasma TV's like he's in the cockpit of the Starship Enterprise. And there I am knowing exactly where I want to go and what I want to buy and I'm facing the defensive line of the 1978 Pittsburgh Steelers.
Twenty minutes into the Costco trip and I'm finally into the store. I get about ten steps in and everything comes to a grinding halt, because there is a free sample lady handing out tunafish on a cracker. People start losing their shit. OOOH I gotta have me some of that. I gotta have it so much that I'll abandon my cart in the middle of the aisle and stand there and eat this cracker. Like they've never had tunafish on a cracker before. Then they make the face, like wow that is good, what's on that again? Tunafish? Amazing! What aisle has the case of tunafish? And where can I find the crackers? Excuse me dude can you get your cart out of the aisle so that I can grab my four items and get out of this place.
I finally get back into the bakery area and what do I see? Chocolate versions of the US Capitol building that are almost life size. Even Augustus from Willie Wonka couldn't finish one of these. And who buys these things? Is that really what you get your kids for Easter? Hey kids, yeah no bunny this year, no colored eggs, no Jesus rising from the dead, just a chocolate, life-size version of the place where bills become laws. "Oh I'm just a bill, yes only a bill and I'm sitting here on Capitol Hill..."
Thirty-five minutes into the trip and I have steaks, wine and I'm making the turn to come down the home stretch to get cereal and diapers, when I see the lady serving crabcakes at the end of the frozen food aisle. Yes! Score! I am so getting hooked up. I see the tray with four left and only one guy in front of me. He stands there and eats one, then he eats two and I'm getting a little impatient, then he grabs the last two and takes them over to his wife. Dude? WTF? The jerk store called and said they're out of you. No way am I waiting for 80 year-old Grandma Moses to open a new package and bake a new batch. Looks like I am-a-no-getting-a-no crabcakes today.
Steaks, wine, cereal and diapers, check-check-check-check. Time to get in line, if only they had an express lane, but of course they don't. Now getting in line on a busy Saturday is like making a pit stop at the Indy 500. You dodge, you weave and finally land in a line behind someone who looks quick, but ends up being a nightmare. Her transaction goes something like this: "Honey have you seen my card? I had it when we came in? Did I leave it in the dog food aisle? Oh nevermind it was in my pocket. HAHAHA it was in my pocket. Ma'am your total is $169.73. Ok, let me write a check. Harold, what's the date? Ooops I wrote 2011 on this one. I guess I'd better write you a new one. I can't believe it's 2012 already, time sure does fly. Those crackers and tunafish were delicious, weren't they?" Hey lady, being behind you, I can attest that time certainly does not fly, in fact it almost stands still. In the time it's taken you to get through the checkout process, I could have played a game of Monopoly from start to finish.
Yes! I am on my way out after somehow spending $95 on four items. Only one more obstacle, the check your receipt against your cart guy. Will I get the I don't give a shit guy who looks for two seconds and marks the receipt or will I get the must check every item guy. Of course I get the latter and because I have my daughter with me he has to mark the receipt with a smiley face. Yo dude, I know you don't have anywhere to go, but my kid hasn't eaten in three hours and is about to lose it, so you can skip the art school drop-out caricature.
Ok, where did I park again? Oh yeah, right beside the Griswalds in Wally World lot 3 row S. After doing my second 5K of the day I reach my car, throw the box of loose items, that always seems to weigh more than it should, into the trunk and after dodging more carts I have a flashback to 1979 as I drive past the long line of cars at the gas pumps. I notice that the car that just pulled up to the front of the line was the guy that was in front of me on the way into the parking lot. Was it really worth the $3 you saved to wait in line for an hour to get gas? Finally, I manage to make it home.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to take a Valium, drink a beer and try to bring my internal anger alert system back down to yellow.
