I went to Costco this morning, my monthly grocery run. I got there at 8:30, and the doors were already open. The sign said Seniors over 60- only. I got my cart and headed inside.
“Are you 60?” the dude at the door asked.
“65!” I said, a new bounce in my step.
I’d been carded, sort of. He had questioned my old-agedness. Woo hoo for me!
The mask helps. It hides the sagging jowls and wrinkles around my mouth. The mask is giving me senior citizen acne. The irony does not go unnoticed.
I get all the necessities and even score some Clorox wipes. My kids on the East Coast can’t find them anywhere., I will mail them some when I get other stuff gathered up for them.
The Marakesh painted bowls in red, yellow, green and blue are sold out. They just became available on Monday, and they are already long gone, except for the display set. I ask the Clorox hander-outer-dude if there are any more somewhere. He calls for the manager and soon Joseph heads over to do a stock check. He offers the display set, but not at a discount.
“I don’t need a discount,” I said.
The beauty of buying the display set is that there is no packaging to dispose of, but they might break on the way home. I take my chances.
By 9:05, I am checked out and ready to go. The guy bagging groceries has place the bowls carefully on top of the pile.
Once I hit the yellow truncated domes (for blind people) out in the parking lot, the bowls start to clatter. I scoop them up and carry them while trying to drive a cart filled with $400 worth of stuff to my car.
I get the car loaded, and put the bowls and the flowers for my sis in the front seat. So far, so good. I climb inside and drive out of the parking lot as people pull in to shop.
I drop off the flowers at my sis’s board and care home, right on the way home. Normally I would take the flowers home, find a vase, cut fresh stems, arrange them, and then take them over later. But today is full with a friend walk and a Zoom meeting this afternoon, and I want her to have them now.
Hey Jude is playing from the CD player as I unload the car and put the cold stuff in the garage fridge and the rest in the house.
I am exhausted. I had to move those groceries three times — into the cart, into the car, and into the house.
I love Costco. I hate Costco. It’s complicated. But today I love it more than hate it because the bouncer dude questioned my senior citizenship, and Joseph let me buy the display bowls.
I have feta, blueberries, lettuce and some doodads for my son’s birthday, plus early Christmas gifts, flea collars for two dogs, granola bars, Snapple, Tejava, Post-it notes, Scotch tape, toothpaste, mouthwash and everything else on sale this month.
Where else can you do that, plus get fresh flowers and colorful Marakesh serving bowls?
I rest my case.