The shopping trip||Portland
Several years ago, my parents quietly awarded us a membership to Costco. They have had an ongoing love affair with this store for years: my dad will jump in the car and head to the warehouse anytime my mom gives him the Costco nod. He generally arrives home with an extremely large container of artichoke dip and a 10 pound bag of mini pretzels. I on the other hand, want to love it, but every time i approach the entrance and have to flash my membership card to the red-vested personnel, I break out in a cold-sweat. When I walked through the Costco doors last week, out of the rain and into an aisle with 200 big screen TV’s, I was having an especially awkward and unlucky day. Within the first 5 minutes of my shopping spree, Sawyer choked on a spaghetti sample and I had to finger swipe him in the aisle containing unbelievably large squeezable bottles of mayo. After he proceeded to chuck multiple food items onto the floor from his tall perch in the cart, I decided it was time to wrap it up and head to check out. That was the point when Sawyer made the very poor decision to tip over the plastic container of rotisserie chicken (that i had so carefully balanced on top of the case of toilet paper), causing its oily juices to seep all over the contents of my cart. When the cashier told me 315 dollars, please, I had already realized that my debit card was lying at home on the kitchen counter. I asked if he could please put it on my tab. He blinked. After a near breakdown in the checkout line, I managed to work out a deal with the shift supervisor. After he hung up the phone with my mom, the warehouse authority announced that i would indeed be able to charge my parent’s costco credit card and forge my mom’s name on the dotted line. After I signed her letters in loopy cursive and thanked the costco higher power for taking pity on me, I walked out the wide doors feeling particularly lame, but also lucky: I was bringing home 45 rolls of toilet paper, 8 lbs of bacon and a very large jar of pickles. Thanks mom & dad–your check is in the mail….