Costco: Wholesale Hate


photo from costco.co.uk

To begin with, I must make this clear.  I love Costco.  I really do.  I like any place that will sell me everything I ever needed in quantities that ensure I may never need to buy it again.  I think I bought a lifetime supply my my facial cleanser this past weekend.  That’s a whole train of worrying I can just jump off.  From now on, I know my face will be clean.  Done.  Checked off the list. Though I will totally second guess my cleanser choices every month when InStyle arrives and they highlight cleansers that will smooth my wrinkles, fade my freckles, shrink my pores, and balance my checkbook.  But unless they’re sold at Costco?  I’m probably not going to buy them.

But everything about the Costco experience stresses me out.  The parking lot, the crowds of very slow people lumbering about the aisles in search of the perfect bargain on toilet paper, the wild-over-stimulation of so much stuff in one place that leaves me walking around with the dazed look usually seen on recently awakened coma patients on soap operas.  Sometimes, I walk through the doors of Costco and have to fight the urge to flee, flee, flee back into the fresh air and run far away and just grow my own tomatoes rather than stepping into the abyss where I can purchase 8-packs of canned diced tomatoes for about $4.99.

My only defense is to walk around with an Inner Monologue of Hate going on in my head the whole time I’m there. What does that sound like?  I’m so glad you asked.  Here’s a sample.

“Move.  Move, please.  Move your damn cart!  I can’t get around your cart and I really need that 6 pound bag of Sugar in the Raw!  If I can’t have sweet coffee tomorrow because your stupid cart was in my way, I’m coming to your house at 5am to borrow a teaspoon of sugar and while I’m there, I will wake up your children and feed them the whole triple-sized box of Cap’n Crunch in your cart.  See how you like me then.  Ah, good.  Moved.  Free sailing.  Doo-dee-doo, rounding the corner toward the frozen chicken aisle and WTF???  Another cart, all alone, in the middle of the aisle?  With a little kid in the front?  Who leaves their cart and kid in the middle of traffic where it blocks other shoppers plus the kid is ALONE and…of course.  It’s a dad.  Who was getting the kid a free sample of cake.  Only a man would abandon a kid and even worse, block the whole damn aisle with his cart.  Men should not be allowed in Costco unsupervised.  OK, what next.  Pizza.  Wait, where is the three-pack of frozen pizzas I was going to buy?  How can they be out of pizza? Nooooooo!!!!” (soft weeping ensues)

Enemas?  Should not be sold in bulk

The other troubling thing about Costco is that they sell everything in bulk.  Even things that should not be sold in bulk like:

Gefilte fish
Depends
Depends for Men
Fiber supplement (particularly when they’re shelved near the Depends)
Enemas

No really.  They sell enemas in bulk.  And yes, that thought gives me nightmares.

But it will not keep me out of Costco to begin the whole cycle again. Because what if I do run out of cleanser?

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5 comments for “Costco: Wholesale Hate

  1. March 19, 2010 at 4:50 am

    We have no Costco here. There. I said it. I've never even been IN a Costco. But I imagine it must be like Sam's Club, which stresses me out so I feel your pain. 🙂

  2. March 19, 2010 at 10:00 am

    Any wholesale type place gives me nightmares. I just can't do it. MacGyver loves them all and will spend afternoons there with our son. Probably getting him cake samples and blocking aisles with the cart.

    (found you through TMC Network and am following!)

  3. March 19, 2010 at 2:17 pm

    We can never go there together. Never. I think the store would implode from our rage at dumb people.

  4. March 20, 2010 at 10:57 am

    There is one thing worse than Costco:
    Sam's Club!!

    Emilia
    Fun Playroom

  5. March 20, 2010 at 3:33 pm

    HAHAHAHA! Enemas sold in bulk, I could die. I TOTALLY agree with you on this. I love my some Costco but the experience is so bothersome (and expensive) that I sometimes wonder if it's the right decision depending on my shopping list. I can't walk out of there spending less than $200, no matter how hard I try!

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