It was a busy morning. On the schedule were a doctor appointment practically before the sun was up that required fasting, a long visit with the tax man, some business stuff that needed attention and a short, at least that was the plan, shop at Costco for plastic wrap and bacon bits. Just two items, an “in and out.”
Of course, the quick shop and the fast in and out were as close to fantasy as a quick trip to Mars. Has anyone ever just gone into Costco and bought only what they intended? If there is such an individual, they should be put in charge of important stuff, like world peace and the state budget. These heroes might be able to explain why printer ink costs more than enriched uranium.
My shopping cart included my two planned items and a bag of cashews, a big sleeve of double A batteries, paper towels, a jar of Kalamata olives that could hold the house down in a strong wind, an enormous container of steak seasoning, a humongous bag of something called onion flavored rings and a rotisserie chicken. Did I mention that my spouse was with me on this expedition? Guess which items he put in the cart.
So, we checked out and since it was now well after 1 p.m. and neither of us had had breakfast, let alone lunch, the draw of the $1.50 hot dog and drink (with refill) was enticing. While I found a table and guarded our loot, the spouse purchased our gourmet fare and we settled in for a bit, me enjoying both the “every-once-in-a-while” hot dog and the pleasure of people watching.
I so enjoy people watching. Each person gives up clues about who they are and, if you are a story kind of watcher, you can fill in the blanks with your interpretation. Take the two gentlemen who were checking out not one, not two, but four stacked-high Costco shopping carts. The first thing that came to mind was how they managed to maneuver the carts around the store. I have trouble with that one. And then what will they do with all of the stuff, which from my vantage point was mostly food items? And lastly, where would they store all of this? Were they shopping for an event? For a group home? Planning on lasting through some climatic disaster? Take your pick, but even more … how are they going to get these carts out to their vehicle? The latter answer came with three additional people who came running to the cash register with other items in their arms to add to the total. My interpretation? A family reunion to take place tomorrow. Why tomorrow? Where would you put all of this food, some of it perishable, unless you were going to use it quickly? Of course, they could be shopping for an institution that has storage space and coolers, but that was too pedestrian.
There was the family with three very energetic children accompanying a cart that contained two boxed kayaks. I don’t know when and where they were going, but I distinctly could see, in their future, laughter and shouts of “put your life jacket on.”
I especially enjoyed watching a lady who had four items in her cart. There were two gallons of ice cream, a big bottle of chocolate sauce and an equally big container of whipped topping. I thought of following her home.
I continued in my short reverie of imagination and hot dog satiety pondering what another people watcher would have concluded viewing me and my cart. Would they consider that I can’t remember when was the last time that I bought steak?
