So , yesterday I made a trip down the mountain to pick up some necessary accoutrement's for camp. A staple in my diet of fine shopping establishments is Costco. It had been a while since I had been inside the wholesale juggernaut with such a large crowd and let me say, they were out in force. As I stealthily and smoothly wove my way through the endless sea of clanking metal shopping carts I heard the desperate plea of a Costco Food Sample Employee. "They told me I was at chimichangas like five minutes before I had to be there, I didn't even know where my product was located!" she said with angst. Truth be told I had a small inward giggle and kept on my way to the back right corner of the store.
Upon arrival to the paper products section of our marvelous super center, there was a child sitting in the middle of the aisle wailing for some reason; needless to say I chose another corridor to get me to my tp dreamland. At this point my list was nearly complete and I asked a woman who was hawking pepper jack cheese at her food sample booth, "do you guys carry bug bombs by chance (you know, the little fogger thingy's you shoot off in rooms to get rid of unwanted pests)?" She replied gruffly, "I just do cheese, you'll have to find someone with a costco name tag." So I set off on my new quest, to find an "actual" Costco employee. What does "I just do cheese" even mean?
My wanderings lead me past the aforementioned chimichanga table and I felt morally obligated to grab a sample. As I continued to weave my way around people, carts, clothes, bikes, chocolate muffins and small running children, I noticed that I hadn't seen a costco name badge in quite some time. I decided that enough was enough and I was just going to get out of this zoo. When I finally got to the register, I asked the cashier person-we will call him professor x as to not reveal his identity-if he knew the whereabouts of any bug bombs and he looked at me as if I had slapped his momma and said, "you wanna know if we sell bombs?" I tried to explain myself, but to no avail so I grabbed my receipt an went on my way. Now that I think of it, what if there's an APB out for me, because I'm that guy who wanted to buy bombs at costco? Anyway, I loaded all of the spoils of my adventure in to the back of the MPV (one of the camp vehicles) and went to put my cart back in one of those parking lot cart gatherers that nobody seems to be able to get their carts in to since they are strewn all over the lot in those compact car landscaping squares. Upon my arrival to said cart gatherer there was an extremely old man attempting to push his cart over the little speed bump at the opening. No joke, he backed up and re-pushed like three times as I was making my final approach! So, I helped him out (and back to his car) and we went our separate ways.
The final thought going through my head as I exited the maze of a parking lot was how did that old man navigate that crazy house? And I thought I was cool for my skills with a cart?
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2 comments:
As a family rule we avoid all types of shopping on any Saturday or Sunday. I won't name names, but some of the family, mostly only those who can grow beards, get e-x-t-r-e-m-e-l-y angry at total strangers and can't handle crowds, or the public. Some of the family start to get rude and say things that shouldn't be said in public. I don't want to not protect the innocent, but it's not me, and it's not the dog and it's not Famous Amos, although I truly believe that Amos may use curse words more than anyone else in the family. (And honestly, who would have thought that it wasn't ME who would get impatient and rude... incredible!)
... still waiting for you and your wife to visit Boulder... we are pretty cool.
I, too, avoid all shoppping on Saturday and Sunday for that very reason. and I totally ditto Julie. I also am waiting for you 2 to visit. lets remedy this situation sooner rather than later, ok?
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