Once in a very great while, I find myself compelled to go to Costco. Most of even those times, with diligent concentration and a can do attitude, I persevere and find a way to avoid the experience. However, there are those rare occasions when the tides swell, the planets line up, the wolves howl with the gibbons, and I resign my self to actually entering that vast warehouse of doom. To do that on a Saturday afternoon is a once in a lifetime tragedy.

Think of me kindly.

note: have they switched over to visa? Didn’t I hear they had stopped taking Amex?

note2: it’s a gorgeous day outside. Why are there people strolling here hand in hand whispering dreamy nothings to each other??

note3: I have everything I need. I’m just picking up gigantic boxes of things just because, like Everest, they are there.

note4: the lady in front has several pieces of jewelry and about twelve dozen bananas. Hmm.

note5: I forgot the protocol. Now I remember. They have all my information, they checked my id as I came in, they will check my cart and receipt when I leave, BUT there is still a danger I might hide something in my cart so I must push it to the other side.

note6: I’m out. I’m out. And I only spent about $500. I’m safe.

note7: where the F is my car??????

note8: found her, she is safe. But I didn’t like the looks of the MDX and Sienna both waiting for my spot. 37 min. It’s a record!!

Apologies to the gentleman whose ankle I scraped with my cart. It was Costco aisle rage. I’m a very polite person otherwise.