FREE.99

Everyone loves free samples. Everyone also loves Costco. Now I'll go ahead and apply some of that scientific research skill I am learning in grad school to create the following theory: Everyone loves Costco because they have free samples.

I honestly think that's the stone cold truth. I mean why else do people need to shop there? Who could possibly need at 80 ounce bucket of peanut butter? Or a 150 pack of cup o noodles. Let alone if it's not a perishable item, who even has room to store all of these bulk bargains. I remember when I moved to college I thought Costco and I were going to build a beautiful relationship, but I quickly realized it was going to have to be either my wardrobe or a semester's worth of peanut butter in my closet. Despite San Francisco being "liberal" they still haven't developed a clothing optional policy, so my choice was pretty much made for me.

Now if you're a real stickler for some facts to back up this theory of mine, I think the last trip I took to Costco will  sufficiently suffice. Last Friday around noon my Dad and I ventured to the great bulk food supplier. When we pulled into the parking lot, my first concern was why there were so many freaking people at Costco on a Friday at noon. Don't people work anymore? Well I am sure you are asking, "Hey Lauren, you weren't at work either..." My response to that, "I doubt all of those people at Costco are blessed with a glorious retail job like myself." I know some of them are just sneaking off on their lunch breaks to cash in on free samples, which leads me to my next issue.

The love people have developed for free samples has become unhealthy and possibly damaging to our society. I was actually concerned for my safety while in the store. Now granted, since my new found (well not so new anymore) glutarded-ness, I can rarely eat the free samples, so possibly that has given me a much clearer mind. Everyone else has freaking tunnel vision. They're minds are on one thing and one thing only: free samples! MUST GET FREE SAMPLES! Those people take that mentality and run, literally run. From this trip alone, I realized that these crazed sample get-ers can be categorized into five different categories; each just as problematic and tantalizing as the rest.

1. The Repeat Offender: I saw you try and sneak a second sample! Move over buddy, some of us are still waiting for firsts. I understand that that spinach ravioli was a burst of flavor to the mouth, but maybe you should stop being such a Jew and just invest in a bag (or in Costco's case, eight bags) and enjoy the delicacy at home. Despite what you think, not making direct eye contact with anyone does not make you invisible. I saw that attempt at a second sample and so did the woman running the station. Get some dignity and just walk away.

2. The Immediate Stopper: Yes, I agree, that roasted turkey was good, but was it really that good that you needed to stop in the middle of the aisle, the space that is actually designated for WALKING or passing other stopped people on the sides, abandon your cart, and rush over to the sample station? Have we learned nothing from Dane Cook?  I doubt that the three seconds it would have taken for you to politely push your cart out of the way would have deterred you from receiving that small piece of turkey. A little something for you to think about next time you're willing to risk cart abandonment, just for a fraction of a small snack.

3. The Immediate Stopper and Cart Turner Outer: Just imagine shopper number 2, only this time she turns her cart horizontal in the aisle, so there is no hope of breaking through. I could give you the benefit of the doubt and assume this is some sort of protective tactic to slow other people down and ensure that you receive your free samp, but I won't. Instead I know that you live in a world of oblivion, where other people's lives mean nothing to you. Especially when there is the possibility of  a free sample on the horizon. but please don't worry about me, I'll just stand around behind your blockade staring mindlessly at the 12 packs of cereal. I was hoping for a 15 minute period of rest time anyway.

4. The Patient Waiter: They say that patience is a virtue. In this instance though, I think it's more a pathetic attribute to have. Is it really so necessary that you wait fifteen minutes so you can try a eighth of a ham and cheese hot pocket? I can tell you, having had a hot pocket or two in my day, it's not really worth the wait. So creating crowds around the sample tables not only makes it harder for everyone to maneuver around, but it just makes you look sad and desperate. If you plan to sit and wait fifteen minutes for every sample table, you have just extended your quick trip to Costco into a 2 hour debacle. There is a pretty simple elegance to doing Costco sampling right; you hit up all the ready ones first and then double back cart less (for better agility) for the ones that you missed. Then at least you're much more discreet about your desperate need to have every sample in the store.

5. The Cuts You Off Bee-Liner: This in my opinion is the worst of all the offenders. This person has lost every ounce of their integrity and humanity, and is to the point where they will do ANYTHING to get their free sample. They have sold their soul to the sample Gods and go into a complete frenzy when they see the opportunity of something free close by. They use their cart as a weapon to cut you off, slow you down, or just cause you repeated physical pain until you get of their way. Their only duty is to dispose of anything blocking their path to the hair netted woman holding a cube of cheese on a toothpick. They are relentless, and it's best if you discover one early on, to stay out of their way, because they will have no problem mowing you down if you so much as slow them from getting their sample.

Costco can be a jungle of crazy people. If you're not interested in fighting to the death, it's probably a good idea to either go early on, or later in the evening, when the samples are closed. Then you will find other like minded, fearful, and timid shoppers, jumping at the sound of any shopping cart speeding up behind them. I think it has been one too many times that I have had to deal with the cesspool of idiocricy that has developed in this store, and it has definitely decreased my need to go in. I am happy to say that I finally realized the samples just aren't worth it. Plus my ankles can't deal with anymore cart ramming damage.

A Letter, With Love

Dear Man from the Jersey Shore, shopping at my store this afternoon,

First of all this is California. I don't care how popular MTV has made the Jersey shore, but I'm not having it. You're obnoxious accent and "all about me" attitude was not charming the customer service out of me, and I could care less if all you do is gym, tan and laundry. But that's okay, I could tell you were a d-bag the minute you walked over to the graphic thermals. Really? Nothing quite says douche like "Untouchable" written across your chest in a smocked velvet.

But as if that wasn't enough, because it definitely wasn't, I think it was probably pretty unnecessary to melt into a panic over the lack of sizes we had. The shirts are dirt cheap, and we don't have a thermal tree behind the store, so when people buy them, we tend to run out. It's a tough life out there. What I especially loved was the fact that you asked me eight times if we had any in the back. Each time I politely responded with "No", but I guess you didn't hear. I probably should have gone back and checked though, I forgot about how if a customer asks if you have stock in the back ten times, it magically appears. My bad. Even when I explained that I am actually the visual merchandiser for Men's, and therefore I have a very accurate grasp on how much stuff we don't have in our stock room, you didn't seem to quite understand.

What concerned me most though was your apparent worry for what size you wore and whether or not it was going to shrink. The whole situation really seemed to stress you out. For me, it was less stress and more.....frustration. It was pretty disheartening that I actually got to put my degree to use, explaining that a 40/60 cotton/poly blend really wouldn't shrink, being that polyester is a super fiber and all, and it just went in one ear and right out the other. I assume you had more important things to worry about like gym, tan, and laundry. So for the fifth time, when you said, "Are you sure this won't shrink?" I just answered with, "Yeah, you're right, it probably will." I hope you have a good steroid supplier at home, because you're gonna need something to fill out that lack of shrinkage. Although, I have heard steroids could cause some shrinking of their own......

But the cherry on top of the entire rendezvous was when you asked if you could try the shirt on right there. I auto replied yes, because I assumed, like when I try shirts in IN stores, that you had an under shirt on. What you should have asked was, is it okay if I take my shirt off, and stand topless in the front of your store. Being that this is not Abercrombie and Fitch I would have replied, "No, I think that's a bit inappropriate." Because it was. Not one person who walked into the store during the ten minutes you didn't have a shirt on enjoyed it one bit. Especially not me, who had to sit and advise on which size I felt was better. And I have to comment, it looks like you need a little work on both the gym and the tan.

So please spare me next time. I am pretty sure our entire interaction cost me more brain cells than I would have liked to give up. And a little advice for next time: No shoes, NO SHIRT, no service: it's a rule for a reason.


Love,
Lauren

Things I Learned/Thoughts I Had While in the South

navigation tool collection

You should check your GPS software before you embark upon your adventure. Dealing with a GPS that does not recognize Mississippi, Tennessee, Arkansas, and Oklahoma as actual places, can be quite difficult to work with, especially when you are traveling to Mississippi, Tennessee, Arkansas, and Oklahoma, specifically. 

Every street is a “highway.” Every “highway” or “freeway” or “interstate” has at least three names it goes by. Therefore not only is it Highway 66 East, but it is also Highway 142 North and Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd. This makes directions increasingly harder to understand.

While automatic toilet seat covers might sound cool, they don’t work. Therefore I would appreciate you providing a second method for “my protection.”

The one issue I now have with California malls, in fact malls across the U.S who haven’t jumped on this bandwagon, is that they do not have frozen daiquiri bars in the middle of them. 

Even though Johnny and June thought Jackson was the place to “get married in a fever,” there is in fact nothing there. Definitely wasn’t worth the combing of my hair. 

The myth of the “Southern Gentlemen” extends to all wait staff in restaurants. Never have I had such polite and convenient service. Why yes, I would love you to split the check, and if you have a chance, could you call California and get them interested in this phenomenon.

Beale St, Memphis

After about seven "Honey” s come out of your mouth, your cute Southern drawl, tends to wear off and just becomes annoying.

There is NOT an abundance of cowboys walking down the streets in hats…and no shirts…much to my disappointment. 

If you try and smother your bed mate (being kimi) with love (or a pillow) she'll make you suffer the next day. (i.e. force you to take all your pictures solo.)

There seems to be a lack of spinach in the spinach capital of the world. Especially a lack of giant spinach cans. But water on the other hand, now they have huge towers of those.

Popeye Park. Alma,AR

Being single is no way to make friends with any of those Southern gals. They are all married, and your obvious singledom is considered a national threat to their own marriage. 

on the road

One way car rentals are ridiculously expensive. Gas on the other hand is cheap. And even if Archie, at the New Orleans Rental place chooses not to let you know, you should always get a gas receipt. That way, when you return the car, you can prove that you didn’t actually siphon water into your gas tank. FYI to the car rental companies: If I just gave you an obscene amount of money to drive a car 800 miles across the South, I’m not going to cheat you out of another 20 dollars worth of gas. Not to mention, if I even had the talent to siphon water into the car's gas tank, you should give me the rental for free... out of principal.

Oklahoma sucks. Your one redeeming quality were the shirts in your airport, “Nothing tips better than a cow.” But it’s not enough to escape from my shit list. 

the blushing bride and reason for this entire trip.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

In like 36 hours I'm getting on a plane and heading South to New Orleans to embark upon Kimi and I's Southern adventure. I am in severe need of a vacation and I am really excited to go exploring. So what's the problem you ask? Just the fact that planning trips are STRESSFUL. And if you know me at all, you know I don't handle stress that well.

Towards the end of high school and my first few years in college I noticed that whenever I got stressed I would get sick. It would build and build and build as I was frantically studying for my statistics final, and then the second I finished the test, it would hit me as if I just ran into a brick wall. And I would be out for a week. Unfortunately for me the only times I would get stressed would be around midterms and finals, all right before we would have breaks from school, so that meant I spent a lot of thanksgiving, winter, and spring breaks laying in bed in my parents house being sick. I guess it was better than having to take those finals while also fighting the illness, but still, coughing your head off in bed while all you're friends are partying and celebrating sucks.

As the school work, and sorority responsibilities, got harder, the way I dealt with stress got worse and worse. Junior year had me throwing my back out every three months to the point where I couldn't move for a week. that was the absolute most frustrating way my body decided to "calm me down." There is nothing more stressful than having to miss work and school, and not being able to move anywhere without having your roommate help you put your pants on. I spent a good part of my spring semester in my fourth year of college on the floor with back issues. And my school work suffered greatly.

Since then I have been extra careful with my back, so of course my body being mine, it had to devise new ways to make me suffer. The most recent occurrence during my last semester was canker sores. Now those sucked! There is nothing like having canker sores (multiple multiple ones) all over you're mouth, hurting and preventing you from eating and talking. Too much information? Hey, they are canker sores, not herpes, and it was stress that caused them, not a lack of personal hygiene or anything.

So just my luck that past few weeks have been stressful to the max. Between work and school and planning this trip, it's no wonder that after working eleven straight days, I completely crashed on my two days off. I have been home sick with a horrible cold the past two days, and I have to get it under control before I sit on a plane for five hours Monday. The pressure of that time constraint isn't helping my calm down though. Not to mention I have been scrambling to get my suitcase packed and all my homework finished, and all the final touches on the trip in order. It has not been fun. I feel like I am no where near completing any of them. And now I seem to be breaking out in some sort of hives. Seriously? What is my problem?! I think I need to become a hippie and care about nothing and just sit around and relax all the time. Would that be a waste of my future master's degree?? If I am happy and stress free than I guess who cares. Now how do I break that new discovery to my parents.....oh, well guess this blog just did it for me. Sorry Mom and Dad, I'm gonna be a hippie, here's to hoping Ally is infinitely more successful.....someone's gotta support us.

Anyway, Bon Voyage! I promise stories and pictures when I return. Kimi and I have a competition going to see who can look like the biggest douche bag the entire trip. I might have a couple popped collars hiding in my suitcase. Hilarity and pictures to ensue. Until then.....Au Revoir!