I braved Walmart on Saturday of last weekend–and that was crazy! I still need a few things at Costco. Do I dare visit the big box store on Friday before the start of the three-day weekend?
A local newspaper columnist recently wrote an article about her obsession with Costco. Who doesn’t agree with this?
Sometimes I think there should be a 12-step program called Costco Anonymous. People call it the “$300 store,” but last time I was there, I spent $500 and, here’s the sad part, I don’t even know what I bought.
This writer compares Costco to a local grocery store chain: “I’ve never, ever spent $500 in one trip to Stater Bros. (even with a teenage son). Nor does Stater Bros. induce that strange “must-buy-must-buy” trance that seems to come over me when I enter the giant warehouse. I wonder if it’s something they pump into the air, like the extra oxygen they pump into Vegas casinos. Or maybe they play special music that makes you want to get out your wallet and empty it.”
I have a friend who visits Costco about twice a year. She lives alone, so the 36-roll pack of Kirkland toilet paper lasts her six months and there isn’t much else there to buy for a single person. The newspaper writer figures she saves money when she buys the big bags of dog food, is it worth the time and hassle trying to park and then find the dog food? Maybe not.
So what do I need that’s so important at Costco? My vitamins come in a two-month box and I ran out of them on Sunday. I ask myself, “why did I wait?” and my answer always is, “we don’t need toilet paper yet.” Besides, where would I store 36 rolls of toilet paper right now?
The best and laziest? Order your groceries online from your favorite supermarket, pay the $5.99 delivery charge, and have the driver deliver all the bags to your front door (or garage). Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezey.