I recently celebrated a milestone: my first anniversary as a Costco member.
That’s right. Costco. I’ve come over to the dark side.
My man and I actually joined years ago. We had a newborn baby and it seemed like a good idea. It wasn’t. Jumbo jars of roasted red peppers threatened to take over our fridge, our cupboards were overrun with enormous boxes of cereal that couldn’t fit, and our basement was overflowing with canned goods and paper products. Our house was becoming a depot of forgotten groceries. And it was costing a fortune.
We never renewed. Au contraire. The mere whiff of Costco and we were snarling, turning our noses up at such mass market suburban crap. Easy as ABC: Anything But Costco. It didn’t help that those who shopped there were obsessed.
Remember that Modern Family episode when Cam introduces Mitchell to the joys and wonders of Costco? Cut to: Mitchell zipping down the aisles on a trolley of wasted olives and baby wipes. That was me.
But not anymore. At least not to that extent. Mostly.
After boycotting the big box, I returned last year. We were now a family of five (with a bigger basement and a garage fridge) Now I’ve learned the Costco ropes and have my (weekly) trips down to a science. Now it’s “no” to vats of grilled veggies and trios of tortillas. And while I’m not buying my cashmere sweaters there, I do find perfect pajamas for my guys. French green beans, sugar snaps and berries are a bargain. As are pet food, plants and maple syrup. Their meat department is legendary, tho’ their frozen prepared foods is not: skip the appetizer party plates and grab the best deal on Parmigiano Reggiano in town. Ditto their roast chicken – sublime (and $6.99)
My Costco guru, Vern, is truly hardcore. She gets everything there: Yoga pants, garden urns, outdoor furniture. She can read that flyer in a matter of seconds and is quick to point out the best deals that can only be found in that one, enormous, airport-hanger of a store. And while I have yet to purchase any serious big ticket items, it’s only a matter of time… And cash flow (no credit at Costco).
I’m hooked. No longer a Costco tourist, I am now a full-on guide, taking my non-member friends on Costco Safaris to find gum, frozen shrimp and nitrate-free roast turkey.
I never thought it would happen but….I’m saying it loud: I’m a Costco shopper and I’m proud.
I hate that I love it. It sort of depresses me in there – but was I happy I bet the turbo pack of OB’s when the city went (ahem) dry.
I meant bought BTW mother