I love Costco. I love that you can buy dog treats, towels, a hand mixer, and get your prescription filled while you visit the optometrist and load up on 3-gallon jars of mustard to go with your 65 pounds of lunch meat. Plus, you can snack your way through the store while you’re waiting for your tires to be installed.
But all of the things that make Costco amazing make it suck, too. For whatever reason, when people are in Costco they forget their manners, kindness disappears, and basic rules of the road just fall to shit.
I usually brave Costco on a Saturday or Sunday, which seems dumb because the place is teeming with people. But on weekends I have my husband with me, so we can protect each other and divide and conquer when necessary.
Yesterday I needed to go at lunch because I had to pick up a few things for my office. I didn’t think it would be too bad on a weekday at lunchtime, but it’s actually worse than Saturdays. Old women walk side by side three deep down the main aisle, so Fuck You to anyone else who wants to get anywhere. They stare you down and dare you to cut them off, divide them or otherwise interfere with their leisurely progress. And shame on you if dart out in front of them, hoping to cut across to the other side. It’s like a game of Geriatric Frogger.
Then there are the Stroller Mamas. Because the Old Lady Brigade won’t let me through, I’m stuck in no-man’s land, trying to navigate the cart out of one row and into another. I’m straddling the row I’m leaving and the main aisle I’m trying to cross and the Stroller Mama has clearly had enough of my slow progress, so she lets me know I’m not moving fast enough by repeatedly banging into the back of my ankles with her stroller. Her little monster sweet baby kicks me for good measure (just in case I didn’t get the point).
Side note: In the hierarchy of Costco Shoppers, the Old Lady Brigade yields only to Stroller Mamas.
Assuming I safely cross the aisle (or at least arrived with minimal damage), I encounter the Row Hogger. This is the mindless twit whose cart is skewed across the entire row, all willy nilly. The Row Hogger is about 20 feet from her cart, halfway up the row deciding between the 2-gallon can of olive oil or the 5-gallon jug. If you can’t maneuver around the cart and actually try to push it out of the way, the Row Hogger will scream obscenities at you for touching her stuff. Depending on my mood, I will wait patiently or shove her cart with mine. And my mood depends on how many other Row Hoggers, Stroller Mamas and Old Lady Brigades I’ve already encountered.
Along the way you’ll probably encounter the Grabber. This is the person who grabs whatever you’re looking at right out of your hand. This usually happens in the clothing section. She waits for you to dig out the size you’re looking for and grabs it right out of your hand. The Grabber feigns that she was coincidentally reaching for the same item but instead of being gracious, she grabs the item, shoves it in her cart and takes off.
I’ve always understood that in supermarkets, and by extension, stores like Costco, you follow the basic rules of the road. You know—drive on the right, stay to your side, don’t make any sudden U-turns, signal your intent and don’t cut people off. I’ve realized that I’m the only one who believes this. Apparently, the aisles of Costco are like Bumper Cars. People “drive” up the center, zigzag across the store, stop abruptly, make right turns from the left, push against the flow of traffic.
Assuming you get out of the store safely, you have to contend with the parking lot, which is quite possibly more frightening than trying to crawl down Talledega Raceway in the middle of a NASCAR event. People will kill each other over parking spaces. When you push your cart out into the sunlight, you don’t dare rejoice in escaping Costco because if you let your guard down, the Space Stalker will run you over. This is the guy who follows you through the parking lot, repeatedly asking how much farther to your car. And if there’s already a car staking out your space when he gets there, he’ll pull up behind your car to let the other driver know to move on because he’s already claimed you. But because the other guy has been waiting he’s stubborn and won’t move. So they have a face-off behind your car. You can’t get out and no one can move. And if you have lots to unload, the Space Stalker will let you know you need to pick up the pace with a not-so-gentle toot of his horn. This is when I suddenly develop a disability that prevents me from lifting more than one item from my cart at a time. This is also when I become very concerened about where to put my cart when I’m done. Just for spite, I will walk it all the way back to the front door.
I don’t get it. Maybe people walk in with the best of intentions, but lawn furniture, pianos, new books and the abundance of mayonnaise must derail that. We become crazy with the thought of buying 652 rolls of toilet paper that we have nowhere to store.
Whatever it is, I will never go to Costco alone again.
Trust me, I'll use it.
