Here is what I think if you mention Costco to me - AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!
Despite that response, I have nothing against Costco. In fact, I really like that Costco exists and I appreciate when my wife goes to Costco and comes back with reasonably priced good stuff for us, but I really, really, really, really hate going to Costco. I mean, I hate it. Really.
Why, you logically ask next? Because of people.
You know exactly what I am talking about, right? It's all those damn people pushing carts around Costco like they are drunk. Some wander, so go way too slow, others way too fast, and most exhibit idiocy on a grand scale - just the way drunk people act.
If someone gave me a million dollars to waste (I agree that this is not likely, but just for the sake of discussion), I would spend that money recreating any given day's activity in an aisle at Costco but with cars on downtown multi-lane street. First, all street lanes, stop lights and sense of direction or decency would be eliminated. Cars would be allowed to travel both directions on all areas of the street. Most cars would stop suddenly, without warning and certainly without brake lights, because that is just the way people operate their carts at Costco, right? Cars would suddenly veer left or right with no rhyme or reason to it. And, the piece de resistance would be the "free food" cart that would cause cars to drive straight towards it with complete obliviousness to any other vehicle or obstacle. The overhead view would show this fan of vehicles pointing out in every direction from the precious sample station. And the only positive from that is that for a few moments no one would run into anyone while everything is at a standstill.
The cars wouldn't bash into each other; it wouldn't turn into demolition derby. That's not what happens in Costco. Instead, those paying attention would be dinged, banged and otherwise gently abused for actually paying attention, while those who seem to operate with utter indifference to their fellow man would be rewarded by careening unaware from 29-packs of toilet paper to 50-lb boxes of pigs-in-a-blanket, with a quick stop at the novelty sweatshirt and work-out video stack.
It is a symphony of controlled chaos where the oblivious reign supreme and the observant suffer.
|Not quite right, but you get the idea.|