The last time I went to Costco — about three years ago — I came out with two bathing suits my daughter never wore, boxes of snack foods that purchased in a normal size my family would have devoured but in supersize we never seemed to eat, and a surprisingly big charge on my credit card. One friend of mine went in for dog food and came out with a tent. Yet I know others, people I trust, for whom a trip to Costco is a bi-weekly must. They swear by the white fish salad, the bags of frozen shrimp, the turkey meatballs.
I was afraid to get back in there, renew my membership and start again. But this weekend an opportunity presented itself. I was out of precisely the things I think I should be buying at Costco: not food, and not the odd random impulse item. But ziploc bags, cleaning supplies, paper towels, toilet paper. I was planning a cocktail party so I needed paper plates, plastic cups and napkins in large quantities. Eliot was game. Actually he was more than game, he was eager (something about Costco definitely appeals to men — and I don’t think it’s just the Hebrew National Hot Dog and soda deal). So we went late on Sunday afternoon.
The line to renew a membership was mercifully short. And we maneuvered around the aisles fairly easily. He hit the pharmaceuticals — Advil, extra large, if you please — while I went for paper products. I would have loaded up on printer cartridges if I had remembered to check the style number before I left the house. I resisted the urge to buy new beach towels ($9.99) and steered away from the best sellers. And I didn’t even go near the food.
Not even an hour later, we emerged with a year’s worth of precisely what we went for, plus some much-needed pens. (Do pens disappear in your house, too?) I felt triumphant with the extra-large laundry detergent which cost soooo much less than in the grocery store, with enough Bounce to last a decade. As I was checking out, I even felt a twinge of jealously looking at the big-sized package of fresh blueberries the woman in the next aisle had snagged. Food at Costco? Maybe next time.
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