There are only certain people you can imagine seeing at Costco, none that you want to. There was this guy that I used to work with at Apple, Lee. I can predict running into him there. He would spot me before I could smell him and then I wouldn't be able to escape unnoticed. He would be filled with inane advice about what to buy and and what not to, and why - offering it all freely, as is his consistently uninvited nature. His reasoning never held but that wouldn't stop him. He would just blather on at double volume with his perverse hillbilly wisdom. As a game, I used to force myself to find other ways to accomplish things if I had ever heard him giving advice, just so that I could be sure my life-path was as far from his as is possible, as a cautionary procedure. Every now and then he would find something that we agreed on and I would have to point out that it was purely accidental, that in life even a fool will occasionally happen upon the right way of doing something. Imagine how much uncredited invention has been the result of this will to avoid resembling those that you avoid.
Jesus, what the fuck am I doing writing about that nincompoop this morning. What's the line? Everybody has the right to be stupid from time to time, but comrade Rodrigues abuses the privilege...
So, we went to Costco yesterday. Jesus. It really was like the biblical two-fish-and-five-loaves story. Jesus must have visited a Wal-Mart and found that there weren't enough boxes for everybody so he just started tearing boxes in two. Costco was the result. That's just a little new testament magic, pure and simple. Feeding with multitudes.
No other myth from the gospels illuminates the moronic as this tale does. The claim was that two fish fed 5000 men, not including women and children (Of course, why would you? You might as well start counting slaves at that point. Is there no end to the madness?).
I should keep it down in here, Rachel will probably want to take Rhys to church if she knows I'm downstairs being a heretic again.
So, Costco.... What a well-named enterprise. You see where they were headed with that. Cost-co. Pure marketing genius. Their economy of language suggesting your economy in savings. Though, if they were really honest with themselves their company logo should have looked more like this.
Costco. Costco. Costco. Costco.
Costco. Costco. Costco. Costco.
Costco. Costco. Costco. Costco.
Costco. Costco. Costco. Costco.
Costco. Costco. Costco. Costco.
Costco. Costco. Costco. Costco.
Does it make me a snob that I took some pride in not knowing anybody there? I actually prowled the store in concentric circles just to verify. I almost made the mistake of eating before we got there. Man, would I have felt stupid... If you ever want to help a person in hunger just invite them to Costco with you, or buy them a membership. They could go in every weekend day (I assume) and gorge themselves on free samples - meatballs, sausages, cheeses, deserts, you name it. Wine tastings! If they did that every day they could easily become the king of pork products. I swear to you. It's easy.
The dynamic of a Costco is so strange that at one point I turned a corner and saw some people adjusting their cart - I really thought for a moment that they were squatters. I was impressed. I looked around at the ceilings and thought, Fuck, this place is really huge. Who would have guessed that they have their own urban problems in here....
I ingested enough sodium nitrate that I'm certain I've doubled my shelf life, my urine has yet to regain its odor. I was so pleased when I waddled out of there that I insisted on being addressed as Sire Kirkland.
I had become multitudes.
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