Although I’ve completely bagged Costco in the past, there’s been a growing sense that I need to visit their stupid new store and buy copious quantities of EVERYTHING THEY SELL.
Why the sudden turnaround? It’s the same thing that happens when I don’t visit Ikea at least once a month. Or if I don’t quietly add the new Katy Perry single to my iTunes. Or if I try to stop watching Desperate Housewives AGAIN. Or if I don’t buy a new Apple product each fortnight.
What happens is that my homo gland ruptures and I spiral out. of. control, and you don’t want to be around when that happens. It involves glitter.
The excuse I bleated at Adam to visit Costco is that we have a housemate now. Doesn’t it make a great deal more sense to buy everything in bulk and save money? AND DID YOU KNOW THEY ALSO SELL CANOES AND GRAND PIANOS AND COFFINS AND WE COULD BUY ALL THESE THINGS IN ONE PLACE?
Anyway, it wasn’t the most convincing argument on my behalf, but M People were never convincing either, and they managed to succeed somehow. Adam eventually agreed we needed to buy a rug for the hallway, so I emphasised the undoubtably gargantuan range of floor coverings that Costco no doubt stocked.
Off we drove to their heaving warehouse store. As we trotted curiously towards it, we noticed a lengthy curving line spiralling outside. It looked remarkably like an impromptu bogan conga line with additional shopping trolleys. I sensed Adam’s immediate reluctance, seeing as he hates crowds in all forms.
We decided to try barging into the strangely empty door marked “Entrance”, only to be verbally shot down with a sniper rifle. Of course, we didn’t have a Costco membership, so we weren’t allowed to enter. The way this was communicated was akin to a school principal admonishing a child who’d defiantly pooped on his desk. The conga line we’d spotted was actually the lengthy queue to sign up for a membership.
Rather than face an hour of waiting just to get into the bloody store, we decided to call it quits while we were ahead. Of course, by this stage Adam had really worked himself into a fury, so he decided to perform a little free word-of-mouth advertising on behalf of the store. As we walked back towards our car, he warned everyone heading towards the store: “You have to pay to get in, and it’s an hour’s queue.” Amazingly, a great deal of the people he yelled at turned from the store in surprise and began walking away. If there was a measure of how smug Adam looked by the time we returned to our car, it would have rated at 100 on the Peter Costello scale.
My wish to inspect the stupid store remains unsated. But don’t worry – soon enough those new Dyson fans will be released in Australia, and my homo glands will be working themselves into a fury of desire over those instead.
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
My friend lives in a sharehouse, and she went to Costco and bought like 45 rolls of what she thought was toilet paper, only to discover it was really Paper Towel. Mmm Sandpaper.
Oh well, at least we always have towel to wipe up the mess after Beer Pong! :D
how have i not heard of the AIR MULTIPLIER before! thats awesome! i cant wait for cider to be laying through the ring and someone turn it on!