Zen Shopping at Costco

          Zen Shopping at Costco

 

I drove a friend to the East Bay Costco, and while she shopped for a month of supplies, I went shopping too. All I planned to get were two cigarette lighters, but alas, they only carried big lighters for barbecues. But I thought, why not pick up something else? I thought this because the store seduced me. Costco’s a capitalist Wonderland. I was bedazzled by the cavernous layout, the towering shelves, the bright lights, and the busy crowds. Like a Vegas casino, there were no windows or clocks; nothing to remind you of the passage of time.

          So I wandered around, impulse-buying this and that, everything economy-size. A gallon of Palmolive, two loaves of multigrain bread (for they were bound together, you could only buy them in pairs), four packages of muffins (also bound together, six muffins each, for a total of 24), two bound-together quarts of Dr. Bronner’s Soap, two packages of wild salmon (I’m a one-man extinction event!), four cans of tuna, eight tins of sardines, and I forget what else.

          I went to the checkout counter. The clerk asked for my Costco card. My what? I offered cash, but she explained that I needed a card to purchase. Only $60, good for a year!

I thought it over. I’m not in the East Bay often enough to shop at that Costco. Besides, do I really need 24 muffins? So I walked away. I left the cart at the counter. Hands empty, wallet untouched, light as air.

          It felt... exquisite. Like spending, yet also like saving. Nothing will get you nothing; what a deal!

Freeee!