With Great Power Comes 50 Rolls of Toilet Paper
Absolute power corrupts absolutely. And a Costco membership is absolute power.
In a previous life, I was able to purchase just one dozen eggs at a time. In a former existence, I bought 24 plastic knives in a single trip to the grocery store. In a preceeding state of being, I obtained tissue paper one box at a time.
But now all of that is no more. Those golden days of bliss are long behind me now.
It began innocently enough, as it usually does. Who among us is strong enough to resist the seductive calling from the beautiful siren that is a quarter-pound all-beef hot dog with unlimited soda refills for $1.50? For those that (for some incomprehensible reason) are not hungry and only thirsty, the unlimited soda is available by itself for 55 cents. 55 cents! You would have to be some kind of soda eunuch to turn that down.
And then it escalates. Now we're running home with whole rotissery chickens for $4.99 apiece. That's food for three days! Unless you're me, in which case it's food for one day, but still very economical.
The trap is sprung, and the devious fangs of wholesale are firmly entrenched now. They've gotten us in the door, why wouldn't we stay for the $200 4GB iPod Nano? I had thought I was just getting the membership for the frighteningly cheap food for the rest of my life, but now it's 432 ounces of soda for $7.99. Now I'm buying enough paper towels to wipe off a kitchen counter the size of Texas. Now I'm acquiring plastic knives by the thousands, as though I were girding for battle against the massive legion of primitive invading marauders from Plastic Barbaria. After the titanic battle, I could hand each one of them a can of soda as a consolation prize.
But alas, I cannot continue this indulgence in self-pity. I have to run off now to replenish my supply of garbage bags. For the next sixty-two years.
pb78
In a previous life, I was able to purchase just one dozen eggs at a time. In a former existence, I bought 24 plastic knives in a single trip to the grocery store. In a preceeding state of being, I obtained tissue paper one box at a time.
But now all of that is no more. Those golden days of bliss are long behind me now.
It began innocently enough, as it usually does. Who among us is strong enough to resist the seductive calling from the beautiful siren that is a quarter-pound all-beef hot dog with unlimited soda refills for $1.50? For those that (for some incomprehensible reason) are not hungry and only thirsty, the unlimited soda is available by itself for 55 cents. 55 cents! You would have to be some kind of soda eunuch to turn that down.
And then it escalates. Now we're running home with whole rotissery chickens for $4.99 apiece. That's food for three days! Unless you're me, in which case it's food for one day, but still very economical.
The trap is sprung, and the devious fangs of wholesale are firmly entrenched now. They've gotten us in the door, why wouldn't we stay for the $200 4GB iPod Nano? I had thought I was just getting the membership for the frighteningly cheap food for the rest of my life, but now it's 432 ounces of soda for $7.99. Now I'm buying enough paper towels to wipe off a kitchen counter the size of Texas. Now I'm acquiring plastic knives by the thousands, as though I were girding for battle against the massive legion of primitive invading marauders from Plastic Barbaria. After the titanic battle, I could hand each one of them a can of soda as a consolation prize.
But alas, I cannot continue this indulgence in self-pity. I have to run off now to replenish my supply of garbage bags. For the next sixty-two years.
pb78
posted by pandabear78 at 9:57 AM
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