The Costco Incident.

Posted on 06 July 2009

The mission was simple.  Get into Costco, acquire bratwurst, and get out.  It was the date that made it interesting.  After noon, the day before a major holiday (in this case 4^th of July), is not a time any sane person wants to be near Costco’s or any food store really.  Holidays have the same effect on shoppers as major snow storms.  Everyone has to rush in as if the world was going to end tomorrow and fight over the last gallon of milk or package of hot dog rolls.  I’ve known this for many many years.  However I was not about to let good sense get the way of have the perfect brats to grill at my BBQ.  It was a matter of pride.

So we knew we were in trouble when me and my side kick, Josh “da player” Laube rolled into the parking lot.  It was, as expected, a mad house.  Issue one was finding a parking space.  There wasn’t one to be seen and I’m not one to stalk exiting shoppers for a space.  You know the folks I mean, the ones that find a victim and slowly follow them around the lot.  It’s one of those slow mo police chases.  Really really sad.  The first spot I found was nearing Planet Honda (and for those not local, that’s pretty damn far).  No worries though, walking is good for you, and I only needed one item.  Easy.

Josh is old enough he likes to walk, which is good, but then we are locked into the 3 year old speed.  Which , for those without access to a 3 year old, is just a bit faster than old person with a cane speed and just a bit slower then molasses going uphill in the winter.  It short it takes awhile.  In the parking lot we narrowly avoided being run down by two civics and something that looked a bit like big foot (the truck, not the Yeti).

Once inside, I passed on a cart, again only needing the one item.  We cut through the electronics, doing our manly duty of “ooh”ing and “aah”ing at the 60 inch TVs.  It was quickly clear as we approached the food area, Josh was still small to be seen by those people with carts.  A keen eye was needed to shepherd the boy through the crowd.

Bratwursts were acquired in one particularly busy row, in which Josh was nearly crushed by a cranky older woman who decided 3 year old speed was just too slow, and it was best to go through the child.  Collision was averted and we made our way towards the front of the store.  On the way, I spotted Charcoal.  I had forgotten I had needed that, and this being Costco, you can’t buy just one bag.  So I grabbed 32 pounds of charcoal, balanced my bratwurst on top, had my son hold on to my belt and we were off again.

The checkout lines were a site to behold.  People were everywhere in lines that went nowhere.  Of course Josh and I got on the slowest line possible as apparently the folks a few people in front of us had decided to buy out the entire store.   The charcoal, a meager 32 pounds a few minutes ago was slowly gaining mass.  Gravity is a cruel mistress.

In front of us was a woman with a cart (smart) and a four year old girl in front.  I know she was four because when we first got in line she said “Hi, I am four years old.  Not four and a half”. She repeated this greeting another 4 times and then followed up with “Hi, I am four and a half years old, not four.” And then corrected herself again.  She was obviously trying to get a response from Josh (already a lady killer at three and a half).  He didn’t know what to make of this strange parrot girl.

At last the girl switched tactics and said “My Daddy is better than your Daddy.”  This was not insulting to me, as I often had to prove my supreme Daddy-ness in Mortal Combat (and sometimes Street Fighter).  Josh still didn’t bite though.  Ever being to shy, or simply to smart to reply.  The mother, though, stepped in at this point and explained that this was not nice.  The little girl did not stop.  Instead to her mother she said “I will tell you why.”  And then in the way little kids tell secrets by “whispering” (aka shouting with their hands over their mouths) she explained to her mother why her daddy was better.

“My Daddy is better because he is fat!”

The mother slapped her own palm against her head, turning pink from embarrassment.

Mercifully we had made it to end of the line, the woman and parrot girl were distracted by the ceremonial placing of items on the belt.  It was about then I noticed Josh was doing a little dance.  Perhaps a little “Thank god that girl shut up and went away” dance?  No of course not, that was the “I gotto go, I gotto go right now dance”.

“Josh… is there something you would like to ask?”

“No”  Josh’s standard response fired back.

“Do you have to go to the bathroom?”

“Yes Dadda” Of course.

This would be Josh and I’s first trip to the men’s room there as he was only potty trained a few days.  And honestly we rarely went shopping together.  Instead focusing on fun things.  Aka anything but shopping.  Well ok how bad could it be?  It was our turn then and I was at last free of my charcoal which has somehow increased its weight to at least a hundred pounds.  After paying, I left my items with the cashier and headed off to the bathroom.   We just barely missed being crushed by an Asian family and an overweight woman intend on buying out the worlds dog food supply.

The instant inside the men’s room Josh started to strip.  Somehow getting one sandaled foot out from his pants and underwear, but not the other.   He spotted the urinal.

“Ohh Dadda,  I want to use the special toilet!”

“Sure, why not?”  I responded.  Josh proceeded to hope over to the urinal, spin around, and made to sit on the urinal!  I grabbed him just in time.

“You know, why don’t we just use the normal one today”

Using standard toilet technology we took care of the issue, flushed, washed our hands and headed out.  We then had to work out the miracle of getting the sandal back through the underwear and shorts.

First trip to the men’s room was a success.  Although a close thing.  On the way out we were almost run down by an old man’s cart.  Dangerous place this Costco.

I picked up the massive charcoal and headed to the door, Josh in front of him so I could shout directions for him to jump to avoid incoming carts.  Once outside I decided to get a cart, to protect my son and carry the now 4 mega tons of charcoal in my possession.  Of course another man jumped in front of me the last moment, because he had to get his cart first.  Otherwise the world would end.