To Rant and Rave

Corporate America is so interesting. Markets, economies, all those great resources being utilized and studied. Honestly, the only things I know about the field are from people who do know a thing or two about them. Like one of the interns here at Mosaic, he's an International Business major and his insight on small and major issues ranging from small marketing to the economics of Africa is astounding and so profound. I'm captivated. But what is even more captivating is to first-hand witness such results. Like Costco.

Costco is the West Coast version on Sam's Club. Since we have 9 girls in a 3 bedroom apartment, food goes fast.

So buy it in bulk.

Bulk supply in anything you would imagine. Bulk in cereal. Bulk in toilet paper. Bulk in vodka. Bulk in candy.

Trying to navigate your way through one of these joints is like riding on the LA freeway, only grabbing food along the way (and if you know anything about LA freeways, you're getting a great visual). Everyone herded together with monsterous carts wandering around for the right isle that is stacked to the roof with crates upon crates of food and materials. It's like a refuge house in case the next Cold War came knocking at your fridge door.

Then you have vendors. Granted, they are hard workers, kissing up and promoting their product, but they serve as drive-in billborads among the rush of shoppers swerving and cornering around each other from section to section. Because of the size of the buggies, a traffic jam occurs when a crowd of three or more come. It's as if traffic was trying to be scriptural. "When two or more (carts) gather, I will be there".

You do get a great deal. Membership is required because of the wholesale discount you are getting. A lot of things are significantly cheaper, no doubt, but the means of aquiring grub is exhausting. I might pay my mother to say away from such places to compensate for the cost of anger management sessions that would result. She hates Wal-Mart in our small town to begin with. I thought of her today and rendered Costco a "no-shop zone". She'd be a chewin', as we would say.

I now see why some families reproduce frequently. It's so they have hands to unload the goods from the car when you finally get home. Then you crack open a yogert from a package of 18 and savor the victory as you wipe the sweat off your brow, praying that the food you hauled in will last you a significantly long period of time.

Many hands make light work. Too bad they have mouths.