Ramblings from the Desert

The man who trades freedom for security does not deserve nor will he ever receive either. ~Benjamin Franklin

My Photo
Location: New Mexico

Author of the urban fantasy novel, The Music of Chaos, and the paranormal romance, The Canvas Thief.

Saturday, October 29, 2005

Golden Greyhound and Adventures at Costco

If I'm gonna shop at Costco, I'll need a bigger house. There isn't enough room in my pantry for a twelve pack of paper towels.

Last week the J-man and I made our first journey into the land of bulk shopping. His company provides a free Costco membership. Free is good, so we gave it a try.

This is why America needs McMansions. To house all the crap purchased at buy-by-the-truckload stores.

We wandered around the store like rubes who'd just fallen off the turnip truck:

"Check it out! A vat of mayonnaise!" "Lookie! Enough tampons to keep me supplied until menopause." I slapped my hand on an enormous bag of sugar. "Who needs fifty pounds of sugar?" The only things we buy in fifty-pound increments are horse food and cement.

"Dang. Everything's big. It's like Texas, only without the shitty Dallas Cowboys." Even the pharmaceuticals are big. I stared at a six-pack of Monistat. I've never had a yeast infection, not even entirely sure what one is, but if a bread making factory sprouts between my legs, I know where to get yeast killer.

Soon we were sucked into the savings. "That's a good deal," said J-Man, his attention on a three pack of turkey bacon. Before long, our oversized shopping trolley is filled with a case of soy milk; a family-sized box of cereal; a 55 bag pack of instant oatmeal; huge jars of vitamin supplements; the aforementioned bacon; and enough toilet paper to wipe every ass in the neighborhood.

Any savings are obliterated by a trip down the chachke isles where all kinds of consumer crap--toys, appliances, and Christmas ornaments--sing their siren song. I ended up buying a turtleneck top and a book. I never buy clothes or books. (That's what Christmas and birthdays are for.)

We only intended to buy a calling card and some frozen dinners.

Given the size of The Greyhound's latest veterinary bill*, we will be eating everything we bought, including the toilet paper and book.

And possibly The Greyhound.

(*The vet's staff brought The Greyhound out after we paid our bill. We looked him over and asked, "Where's the gold plating?")


Graphics and Content Copyright © Patricia Kirby 2005