I don’t remember if I’ve written about the Costco experience before, but what does it matter? If I can’t remember every one of my blogs over the past decade I’m assuming nobody else will either. So . . . Costco.
Until last fall, Earl and I traveled to either Grand Rapids, MI or Merrillville, IN to shop at Costco. And we did so a couple times a year, making a day’s excursion of it. However, Costco came to South Bend, IN late last year; and South Bend is just forty minutes down the road. Which means we’re becoming more frequent customers.
Today, we visited again and had a great time. There’s something about the gigantic shopping carts that makes me giggle, as if our paltry items will be lost in the bottom of them. But since nothing is paltry at Costco, that never happens. You want croissants? You have to buy a dozen, not just one or two. You want boned chicken breasts; you get twelve or none. And tilapia? You could open a restaurant.
Then there’s the various tasting stations where Earl enjoys lunch, and we often find something we wouldn’t have bought without a tasting. Or something we decided to leave behind. This trip we bought beer battered cod and didn’t buy artichoke stuffed chicken. Costco knows what it is doing.
We spent an hour and a half roaming the aisles, picking up bargains, and comparing notes. In the end, we spent over three hundred dollars – which is something I never do at the local supermarket – but we are now the proud owners of 68 rolls of toilet paper and twelve boneless chicken breasts and enough K-cups to last Earl through the summer.
When we got home, I spent another hour and a half breaking the large packages into smaller ones for two people. Earl collapsed in front of the TV.