Sometimes I have to leave Northampton to buy things. Like tires. You can get tires in Northampton, but we joined Costco to get deals on things like that. So sometimes we have to drag ourselves down I-91.
Costco and I have a good, respectful relationship and they have a good corporate reputation. Nonetheless, the following is how every single trip to Costco plays out in my head.
Gosh the people who work here are nice. And not even in a pasted-on smile kind of way.
Cool biz, I can transfer our family videos to DVD here! Gotta remember to do that.
Look at all these great deals up front. Fred needs a new jacket—maybe I should call him about this one. And hey, my cell phone even works in here.
Damn, if we ever need a new TV, we’re buying it here.
Look at all these appliances. Maybe I should finally replace the microwave. Eh, I’ll wait a little longer.
I LOVE this place!
Wow, those folding tables are inexpensive. We need a folding table, don’t we?
I wonder if I can lift that package of batteries.
Ooh, the food. Oh, the giant chocolate cake. Oh the gargantuan pies. Samples!
Nom nom nom.
Maybe I should buy lots of this food and stock up until the end of time. Too overwhelming, too overwhelming, too overwhelming. Keep moving.
Those blueberries aren’t local, are they?
How can anyone find room in their house for that much toilet paper?
I could never use that much food.
Why does anyone need these giant packages of food?
WHY DOES ANYONE NEED THIS MUCH FOOD? WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS COUNTRY?
Can I afford a $30 bottle of calcium even if it is a bargain?
I hate this place.
What? No bags?