Costco shoppin' hungry.

Or how to shop while the world spins real crooked.

It’s impossible to be grounded enough to tackle Costco on a Saturday afternoon. For some reason, I always feel like I have the impulse to go to Costco whenever it will be challenging and tiring for me. It’s like some kind punishment I am inflicting upon myself for letting household supplies get so low.

Laundry detergent. We need laundry detergent. But I want to be the kind of Costco shopper that comes out ahead, you know, the kind that fills the pantry with the perfect amount of provisions to have all meals prepped for a week, have healthy snacks on hand, lots of La Croix and tons of toilet paper. This. This is winning!

These are some of my Costco hacks. I park as close to a cart return stall as possible. This way, I can grab my buggie near my car, since sometimes you have to WAIT for a worker to replenish them at the entrance. Streamline that shit. And save a Costco employee ONE less cart to have to corral. Win win, really.

Definitely make eye contact with the greeter. Say hello! Why not brighten someone’s day before you get ready to rumble? Then go straight to the cold veggie room and decide what can survive a two person household without going bad before it is eaten. Today it was brussel sprouts! They always linger well in the fridge and roasting them is easy and hassle free. Then, I look at all the meat specials. Decide it would be so fancy to braise some short ribs, but can’t think of a recipe off the top of my head, so try to google one really fast but get mowed over by eight other steely-minded Costco shoppers side-eyeing me pulling up the NYT Cooking app before giving up and grabbing a $4.99 rotisserie chicken instead.

Jordan Peele’s COSTCO.

Not be able to get near the toilet paper section. Decide it can wait for another day.

Does Costco carry #4 coffee filters? No! They do not! Why would they??

OH right! Laundry detergent! Ugh, the pods are like bad, I think? But they weigh so much less that the huge jugs? Ugh, the jugs ALSO have tons of plastic. Try not to feel guilt about wanting clean clothes but not having the energy to use a tub and washboard, so grab the lighter box with the pods because you can manage to carry it and you threw your back out ten days ago, and, while it is healing, it’s recovering as slow as molasses at Christmas time and you can’t re-sprain your lumbar because it has been humbling, emotionally challenging and physically disruptive.

Always get the Costco olive oil. Must have buckets of olive oil at all times. Oh, sure, this dried pasta looks like a great deal! Wow. Six pounds of dry pasta. I mean, ok, I guess? I will eventually be using six pounds of pasta IN MY LIFETIME so it seems prudent to stock up on it now?

Admire the fresh flowers. Don’t buy any, because even though you WANT to be that person, you can’t stop gaming out the whole trimming them, refreshing the vase, then tossing them out while they smell rancid and cleaning up the mess they made scenario. Thank yourself for caring about your future self’s precious time. Understand that you are neurotic and even moreso when the world feels like it is completely going off its rails.

Freak out because they have those Starbucks brand egg bites. Take a photo IN the Costco and text about them to your Years Long, Many Times a Day, Galpal Thread that consists of constant marveling at how unhinged everything is ALL the time but also funny GenX memes and me squealing about egg bites that I tried for the first time on a trip to the desert with said girls a few years back AND receiving INSTANT validation (I’m looking at YOU, Samantha, you see me, and I see you). Conclusion? Worth it.

This was the extent of my week’s future meal prep!

Not be able to get near the soda water section. Decide it can wait for another day.

Get in on the action of a group freaking out at the smoothie sample table when they learn the mix costs forty bucks. “Haha, your wife WOULD kill you, Guy In The Hat!” WE HAVE FUN RIBBIN’ AT THE SAMPLE TABLES!

Make intentional small talk with the cashier to make sure they know you acknowledge their humanity, even though it is busy and stressful, definitely exchange pleasantries with the employee that cross checks your receipt with your items. Then, get home, lug all of your stuff inside, engage in some recycling theatre, deconstrcut the rotisserie to its shredlike state to stick in a tupperware next to your egg bites. (Meal prep, remember?)

Randomly decide to watch THE INSURRECTIONIST NEXT DOOR documentary. And, just, WOW. Wow. Huh. That was something. Decide to think about how fun it is to shop at Costco instead of large swaths of folk’s harmful addiction to grievance while resisting indulging in your own thoughts about the current state of affairs that are less than constructive to achieving some semblance of sanity and perspective and purpose.

Remember flowers. Shoulda got some. Dang.

Cute, aren’t they?