Tuesday, January 17, 2012

The Costco Experience

I like Costco, I really do, but....
I don't know if every Costco is like my Riverdale store, but I have to say the parking lot is a nightmare. I'm utterly shocked that it's not the official murder capital of the world. The layout is idiotic and it doesn't seem to matter what time of day I go or even what day of the week I pick, but there is NEVER a parking spot even remotely close to the entrance. Let me rephrase that. There is never a non handicap parking spot available. It's as if Costco is hosting the para-Olympics. I can't imagine that 100 handicap vehicles would need to park there all at once, but I've never conducted a real scientific study on this. When I say handicap, I mean people who actually cannot walk, not these folks whose handicap status would be ended by a stint on "The Biggest Loser". If someone falls into the "to chubby to walk" category, I'd say Costco is the last place you need to be, followed very closely by the Chuck-o-Rama buffet. I'm not trying to be insensitive, but you know you've thought the same thing one hundred times before.
There are tons of people who just stop their car near the entrance and pray that a car might miraculously disappear from a spot. I want to scream at these idiots! Most people who shop at Costco move at a snails pace as it is, so there is no way in Hell that anyone is going to rush to unload their lifetime supply of mayonnaise just so you can get the money spot. It seems like I arrive at the parking lot in a good mood, but that's where the good mood ends.
I then walk into the store and there is all this confusion about the need to show your card. I personally don't want to fish my "membership" card out of my wallet to show it to the greeter. I feel sort of victorious when I waltz though the doors, like I own the place, without presenting my card. It's not as if it's illegal to walk inside the building without one, right? Why do I need to show proof that I'm a member at the door. If I want to buy something, I'll show you my special card at the register.
Then there are the weirdos who act like they aren't sure if they need a cart. How can you be confused about getting a shopping cart? Unless you're some sort of power lifter, training for a competition, you NEED a cart. Are you really gonna browse through the store while holding your 20lb. bag of frozen chicken and your 60 rolls of toilet paper? Even if that was you plan, you're screwed when you get up to the check out line. You'll be in line 10 minutes at the very least!
Besides, you need a cart so your hands are free when you walk up to the sample cart and act as if you've never tasted yogurt before. "What's this strange creamy paste? Oh yogurt you say? Well I'll have to try this and form my first opinion about it. Delicious indeed, but I don't know if I'm ready to invest in 52 individual containers of it. That seems like a big commitment."  I watch people approach the sample table and notice that they are careful NOT to make eye contact with the person working the station. As if Edna is going to take it super personal that you don't actually buy the super sized container of what she's sampling. I hate when people pull that stupid act. It's like come on fools, you PAID for a membership! Those samples aren't free, you just forgot that you paid for them earlier in the year. I take every single "non-disgusting" looking sample they offer. Hell, I practically ate lunch while shopping the other day. And I don't even pretend that I'm going to by 65 sausage links. But thanks sweet old lady for preparing them for me in your little portable toaster oven! Now if you don't mind I'm going to head up front and pay a small fortune for all this crap that will undoubtedly never fit in my freezer. Then it's on to the old man who doesn't count any of the items in my cart, but makes a magical pen mark on my receipt that somehow makes it okay for me to leave the building with all this crap I already paid for.

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