THE HIGH COST OF COSTCO

For the last 35 years or so, I’ve been watching my weight. Every year it gets easier to watch!

Recently, I needed ink for my printer, a HP 8500, with dual carbs and 4-speed tranny, chopped and channeled.

Entering into Costo, where TLW (The Little Woman) told me to go (she does that a lot) I head for the printer’s inks and select the right ink for my printer. Do I go out the door after paying for it?

NOOOOOOOOO!

I have to look around first. I like to look at the appetizer section and the bakery and the meats. Kind of like a toyshop for a kid. As I traverse the store, there is various food tasting sites. Out of the hot oven, they place in little paper cups or napkins different types of foods to taste.

So, that morning at home I had a bagel. So they call it. I must say: the bagel is made with only the freshest sawdust, and ersatz butter, left over from the kitchens of a gulag, along with a cup of coffee that came from a pod! This is what I call breakfast. Why? Because my doctor is annoying, my wife helps him be annoying, and so do the bastards that make all that crap I have to eat so they can make money and I have to starve!

When I used to think of breakfast, I thought of bacon, eggs, sausage, pancakes and waffles, with buttered rye toast, and coffee that came from a coffee pot that perked its little heart out. You threw in a donut and you were set until lunch. On Sunday you added a buttered Kaiser roll!

Now you say breakfast and I think of lunch, because breakfast is non-existent.

So here I am, standing in front of a woman with a hairnet, and clear plastic gloves, divvying out morsels of food, food that smells good, and taste good. I try it, and think, WOW! I should take TLW here for our anniversary! Ca-ching goes my calorie counter, Chicken wings in a honey glazed sauce. Ca-ching goes it once more, a tiny piece of cakes with nuts and chocolate. Ca-ching goes the counter once more, this time it is a small helping of ravioli filled with cheese.

I think: “I hope they are running out of things to sample soon, I’m feeling the pound buildup!

Mercifully, I run out of testing stations, I make a dash for the checkout, but alas (There is that darn Shakespearian quote I use) I am getting harder to move! I have gained 20 pounds in the last 15 minutes!

I AM NOW ONE OF THE FAT PEOPLE!

I start to shake as I enter the parking lot, looking for (Really guessing) where I parked my car. I think: The fat police will jump into the car and make me drive to a fat farm!

Guilt, you are my shadow!

I get home and try to forget the whole experience, but alas (there it is again!) I can’t shake the mistake I made. At this rate, I’ll never get “Too skinny” and curse my luck.