Slaves of Costco
I fucking HATE Costco. I hate it! I hate it! I hate it!
Costco is a land of lawlessness. People cut you off with their big, giant carts. They block you from getting to the "shelf", and will tear out your jugular to get at the free samples.
The parking lot is a madhouse. Perfectly nice people suddenly zoom in and steal spots from people who have clearly been sitting there for 5 minutes with their blinker on. Families rush behind my truck as it backs up as if they had a death wish. Maybe I would have a death wish too if I just spent an hour in Costco with three kids.
Every year we promise we are not going to renew our Costco card.
Then we throw a party.
There is no party without Costco. Their meatballs are seriously the only decent meatballs that don't require hours in the kitchen. And when I'm throwing a party, every minute saved is a godsend.
Of course, the giant carts and giant aisles fool me into buying too much food, so there is not so much savings as waste. When I get to my car, my groceries have mysteriously doubled in size. I am convinced they hire giants to work there.
I am always stressed out by the time I finally make it out of the parking lot. But the liquor sales, the hotdogs, the chocolate toffee almonds that are the only thing keeping me calm right now - they all keep me attached to the teat.
I am totally Costco's bitch.
Photo courtesy of postsecrets.com