Mark Evanier's been writing a lot lately about how much he likes Costco. Those posts are worth a chuckle. I hate to tread the same ground as a fellow blogger, especially one who writes so much better than I do, but I find I must.
We renewed our Costco membership last week. Since Patricia is going to the cottage tomorrow for a spell, I will be at loose ends, and have some time to kill. I think I may go there after work on Tuesday. It has been several months, and I am jonesing for some free food. All I have to do is mix in with the crowd hovering around the costless samples, and then return to the scene of the crime a few minutes later. I repeat this process for each of the women who offer these samples. Instant meal.
Costco sells things you can't get anywhere else in quantities large enough to sustain you for the rest of your days. I liked the cans of Stagg's chili all linked together by plastic tabs back before I started making my own again. Want to buy 12 cans of mushrooms, even when you live by yourself? Costco. Need to purchase a package of AA batteries large enough to power my office building for a week? Yep. Costco. How large a first aid kit does the average family need? Doesn't matter. The first aid kits at Costco have enough contents to patch you up from any injury short of something requiring an amputation. Need a package of candy bars, enough to push you into a diabetic coma? Go to Costco. Want some good deals on books you'll never get around to reading? Guess. Guess where you need to go. Go ahead. I'm patient enough to wait.
I haven't been to Costco since the Spring, since before Dad passed away. I'll think of him as I'm walking through the aisles.
He always liked the multi pack of fuel injector.