Have yourself a very Costco Christmas. Or not.
With the holiday shopping season here, I’m sharing recent experiences to remind people how fun it can be to hit a big box warehouse shopping club pretty much any time of the year.
A few weeks ago, I went on a mission to find almond flour. I have a couple friends who are on high protein, low carb, diet drug diets. I’m the fat guy in the group now. And the only one with the Costco membership.
They heard Costco had a 3-pound bag of the flour cheaper than anywhere else. And they wanted to try it because it’s allegedly nutrient dense and low-carb.
According to the internet, the Costco closest to where I live – 15 minutes away – doesn’t carry it. So, on a nice fall afternoon I drove to another location.
The one I visited stands in a higher demographic kind of town than my more local Costco. Despite that, this Costco has a crappily designed parking lot – like my local.
Yet, things started out well enough. The aisles seemed wider here than at the Costco by me. Things weren’t as cramped. That made things seem more relaxing.
To my surprise, despite being like The Clash and frequently getting lost in the supermarket, I found the almond flour.
But I did not shoot the deputy. Nor did I partake in any of any free samples. I’ve given that up in advance of Lent 2026.
Plus, they make the poor sample givers dress as if they work in a laboratory. That makes me sad.
Also, probiotic kombucha gluten free radish nachos. It all blends together in those little cups. It no longer appeals to my sense of adventure.
All in all, I was happy with my visit..
Along with the found flour, I picked up a big ass bottle of Kirkland Canadian whiskey for $20. I grabbed some potato chips cooked in avocado oil. For health purposes. And Cetaphil because I get itchy in winter.
I took a pass on the $5,000+ Star Wars pinball machine. It wouldn’t fit in my car.
So far, so good. But then I picked the wrong line for checking out.
Not being a fan of self-checkout – especially since I had a store credit – I looked for a cashier-operated lane.
In the one I picked, the woman in front of me had her cart filled with giant jars of Kirkland protein powder. Fittingly, she was wearing Lululemon leggings for her shopping excursion.
What she didn’t have was her credit card. Which was weird, because at Costco, to get into the store and to check out, you need your Costco card. Also, she didn’t spring her lack of lucre news on the cashier until after she heard her total due.
Then she asked the cashier if she could go get it – from her car. The cashier obliged.
Meanwhile, we shoppers had to wait for the lil gym dandy to get back.
I joked to the cashier, Would you mind if I leave my cart here in line while I go pick out a TV? She didn’t get it.
Finally, after a few long minutes, the woman came back. She offered no apology for holding up the rest of us.
This left me puzzled. And hungry.
In case you’ve never been, Costco is set up to tempt you to chow down on cheap way-too-long hot dogs and sort-of pizza on your way out of the warehouse. It’s tough for me to pass up the deal. Maybe for Lent. In 2027.
While I ate, I watched a grandmotherly-looking woman pitching vinyl siding or some other sort of housing material to customers as they left the store.
Is that really an impulse buy? How does one get such a tough job?
My belly full, my head spinning, I wheeled my comically big Costco cart out to my car. Across the lane I saw a woman in a red SUV trying to back out of her space. To her left was an older couple standing next to a white SUV, nonchalantly talking to a driver. The SUV blocked part of the lane as the three talked.
I raised my voice so the people could hear me. Hey. She’s trying to get out of her parking space, I said. Could you move so she can get out?
No, the old dude standing outside the car says. She has plenty of room.
Really? Your pal can’t move his car? What an entitled asshole I mumbled. Loudly.
They didn’t care. They all kept talking.
The woman in the red SUV very slowly and cautiously makes her way out of the parking space.
I wheeled my cart back to a holding pen, pissed at how privileged some people think they deserve to be.
Proving my point, I see the jagoff couple get into their car. A white Porsche. Perfect. Perpetuating a stereotype, even.
Of course, you can run into jerks like this anywhere. That’s what the camera on your phone is for. Alas, I forgot to record them, to make them TikTok-infamous.
Thankfully, my own anecdotal evidence shows it’s not always like this.
In line on a Sunday evening buying stuff and with two of Tom’s grandkids, someone was kind enough to let us cut in line. I probably looked frazzled. That happens when I shop at Walmart with kids.
More recently, I bought some flowers at Jewel for Tom’s granddaughter to give her after her elementary school show. Again, somebody let me pay before they did.
So it’s not all bad. You never know.
As they used to say on Hill Street Blues, let’s be careful out there.
Be kind, like the people who let me cut in line. Otherwise, shop online.
