Cost-UH-Co

Got paid on Monday and on Tuesday night went on an epic Cost-Co run with some of my coworkers. Cost-Co has always created mixed feelings of excitement and a mixture of severe anxiety and panic. On one hand you can buy 6 pounds of pretzels for 12 bucks. On the other, it's a warehouse where you are boxed in by chain link fences while wooden crates of toilet paper reach all the way up to the rafters. And once you infiltrate the area of the store where samples are given people turn positively feral.

I guess everybody got paid on Monday, because Cost-Co was positively terrifying last night. I got separated from my people and when straining on tip toe to reach the last block of sharp cheddar, a woman with babies strapped on both her back and her front side, attempted to steal my cart. Then, when I was going down an aisle where a woman was giving samples of some noodle dish I got a flat tire from a cart that was going full speed to load up on the rapidly disappearing dixie cups. Have you ever had a flat tire from a grocery cart? It hurts. Really, really hurts. After 5 hours filling our cart to maximum capacity, we elbowed our way to get a table in the food court for some 2 dollar hot dogs where we met the western teacher who was responsible for bringing swine flu into the country.

The four of us were heading out, and while in the midst of insisting to my male coworker that I was not as weak as I looked and could indeed carry my own bag, I missed a step and went flying on the sidewallk, crushing the first loaf of wheat bread I have owned in this country while simultaneously removing the layer of skin from my knee cap.

I feel as if I have survived a battle. And now I need to recover.