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FeedLast Saturday morning, while some women are at the gym, getting manis and pedis, or dressing up for a tete-a-tete at the Shoppes of Galleria, I am pounding an Americano at Caribou in preparation for a total mind-and-body-beating at Costco.
This has become a sacred ritual that I complete every few months with my friend, Caitlin. She is willing to drive from St. Paul, and I am willing to get out of bed, for an experience that is consistently both traumatic and deeply satisfying.
Traumatic because the parking lot is full of large SUVs, weekend drivers (i.e., people who don't know how to drive), strollers, seniors, snow, and a general sense of urgency that there may be only one 60-pound jar of pickles left inside. Equally puzzling, but far more disconcerting, is the attitude of these shoppers once they enter Costco. They seem to lose all sense of propriety and goodwill. Shopping carts become not only a holding cell for flats of Frosted Flakes and vats of mayo, but also a weapon. I've been rolled over, cut off, bull-dozed, and intercepted on my way to samples (pizza, if it's a good day; dried goji berries if it's not). But the worst part is that no one smiles or says "excuse me" or "after you." After all, I might be gunning for the 72-ounce bag of croutons, too.
So why do Caitlin and I subject ourselves to this madness? Aside from enjoying the commaraderie and needing each other's protection, we go for Amy's chicken sausages, baby bell peppers, batteries, butter lettuce, Bolthouse carrot juice, Dubliner cheese, Emergen-C, frozen berries, Lara bars, Ling Ling's potstickers, Mach 3 razors, marcona almonds, Patron, pork tenderloin, ravioli, rotisserie chicken, organic tomato soup, and Speedo swimsuits. It's not fancy or stylish or Byerly's. It's Costco and I love it.
Posted on Monday, January 14, 2008 in Permalink
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Reader Comments:
Does not exist. I should know this by now, but I live so near the store, it's hard to resist making an attempt. The quick Costco run is impossible, mostly because of the parking lot and in-store dangers you mentioned above, but also due to their lack of "10 items or fewer" checkout lanes. Nevertheless, I still try to make those quick runs. Only because I never need multiple things in bulk, just one or two items, here and there. Especially liquor. I mean, who can pass up their great deals on giant bottles of booze and 24-packs of beer? Not me.
I have this theory that the danger in a parking lot increases in a linear relation to the quality/quantity of deals perceived to be inside. Carelessness and general disregard for the wellbeing of others increases when perception of scarcity is greater. Greenspan should have been using parking lot injuries as one of his economic indicators!