Movies and random appliances are not my problem. Rather, I fall prey to the snack samples. Which taste so extra delicious while shopping. I swear they lace them with an opiate or Oprah's essence or something. I'll be standing there, idling my cart, munching on a pebbly cracker, spread with some sort of pulverized roasted vegetable and goat cheese concoction, when suddenly it is completely and totally necessary that I buy the snack to keep my family morally upright and healthy and disease-resistant. And even if I try to resist and walk away to start shopping elsewhere, that snack starts sending aftershocks of delicious flavor from the back of my teeth until I return and buy the product. Hence, a vat of hummus always seems to end up in my cart.
We go off and on our membership. Costco is like my family's complicated ex-boyfriend. Currently, we don't have a membership, but this autumn we will have a new Costco that is close to where we live! And I just know that one day I will be craving a churro and end up with a membership, a mongo brick of stinky cheese, a triple-sleeved box of imported scandinavian cookies, and enough allergy pills to make Charlie Sheen suddenly speak fluent Korean.
|nosferatu likes churros, too!|