Don’t forget folks, tomorrow’s Franksgiving.
Some guy named Frank.
Wondering which televised Catholic Mass will win the ratings war during Jesus Sweeps Week.
That’s what I call my Costco visit the Saturday before Thanksgiving. But I’ve studied the martial arts and am well versed in self-defense. So I’m not afraid of a crowded shopping experience.
Or am I?
I knew I was in trouble when I first attempted to pull into the parking lot. Have you ever seen a demolition derby with cars wheeling around in random directions? What about shoppers diving for safety like Rodeo clowns? As for me, I actually was glad to have 2 tons of steel separating me from the rest of the crazed morons thinking we can actually get some shopping done today.
The experience inside the store was remarkably similar to the aforementioned experience in the parking lot. Except for the lack of motorized vehicles (unless you count people in motorized shopping carts…and you should). I don’t know what it is, but Costco shopping causes me to undergo some kind of reverse evolution where I revert to a more primitive form. I actually found myself intentionally crashing my cart into another that I felt was protruding into the aisle at more than an acceptable angle. I think this is how neanderthals shopped tens of thousands of years ago.
I tend to visit Costco at lunchtime, when it is less crowded (I know. I laughed when I typed that, too.). While this usually is a good strategy, the downside is that I start to get quite hungry at the 2/3 point. No matter; I’ll just visit one of those tasting stations, right? As I got closer to the Marinated Alaskan Wild Salmon kiosk (and man, did it smelled great), I was greeted by an exhausted “chef” who informed me it would be a full 15 minutes before another batch was made. Don’t worry, I don’t think they’ll find the body.
In the end, I managed to find approximately 98% of what was on my list (No shredded mozzarella or individual hummus packs?! Not cool, Costco). Perhaps it’s for the best. As it is, I now have to figure out how to tell my daughter that I just spent her next semester’s tuition at a pricey, private college. No matter; who needs higher education when you have 6 cases of baby wipes and no baby?
I think I’m giving off some kind of creepy vibe lately. The coworker I was to drive home announced, “You can drop me off here,” and we were still a block away from where I parked my car.
Took the day off from work so I could bring my daughter to see her surgeon and then back to college. Took the day off from work but mistakenly scheduled a phone interview with a parent, which I will have to conduct from home. Took the day off from work but need to contact a teacher to confirm a meeting for next week. Took the day off from work but realized that I had to go to school later this evening for Parent-Teacher Conferences. Took the day off from work.