I went to Costco today to buy a bag of artichokes and grabbed a cart in case I spotted anything else I really need, like a patio heater, zero gravity lounger, or a player piano.
On my way back to the artichokes, I stopped by the food demo stands (aka senior buffet) and enjoyed a sample or two. I even added a jar of Mediterranean Tapenade to my cart. I would have enjoyed the samples more were it not for an Asian woman who operated her cart very aggressively while talking on a cell phone in stacatto bursts of a language I could not decipher.
She invariably cut in front of other people to obtain samples, regularly took more than one and at one point rammed my cart in an effort to grab the last grilled shrimp on the tray.
Congestion in the aisles slowed traffic, so I parked my cart and maneuvered between the sample stations without it. When she saw my progress, she did the same, but never quit talking on her cell phone.
After hitting the tamale stand for a second time, I made the decision to move on. I reached the front of the store and found the shortest line. The boxer stepped in to place my items on the conveyor belt and I was pretty oblivious until I looked down and noticed that my artichokes and tapendade were missing.
“Wait a minute,” I said, “someone took my cart.” The checker looked at the boxer (Costco does not use bags or baggers, only boxes and boxers) and the boxer looked at the checker. Then they both looked at me before removing the items from the converyor and placing them back in the cart.
I was a little sheepish and in a bit of a hurry to leave them behind as I pushed the cart toward the back of the store. As I reached the frozen foods section, I spotted a cart that contained only a bag of artichokes and a jar of Mediterranean tapenade. It was my cart and I quickly exchanged if for the one I was pushing, the one that had earlier belonged to the Asian lady with the cell phone and language I could not understand.
Once the exchange was complete, I headed back to the check stands and moved quickly through, until I got to the door where a checker wanted to see my receipt for the two items in my cart – the receipt I absent mindedly dropped in the waste basket in front of the eye glass counter.
I returned to the eye glass counter, poked in the basket and retrieved my receipt before returning to the exit door.
The brain fog hung pretty heavy. It was that kind of day.
I probably should have gone hunting or fishing.