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I haven't done one of these for a while but then I haven't been inside a Costco for a while…a long while. When COVID started, I went in and stocked up on paper towels and toilet paper, which were occasionally hard to come by for a time. I went in once to use a coupon that had to be used in-person. And since then, I've done all my Costcoing by home delivery, usually once a week. I get a rotisserie chicken plus enough other stuff to reach the Free Delivery amount of $35, which is usually a cinch to reach.

Almost sad to say, I especially haven't been to a Costco this year due to my busted ankle. It's mostly healed but since January, I haven't left my home except to visit (a) various doctors' offices and medical facilities or (b) Comic-Con International in San Diego. The two necessities of life for me. Cruising the Internet though, I know what I'd find if I did now visit a Costco. I'd find dozens upon dozens of people with their cell phone cameras out making videos they'll put online telling us what's new at Costco, what's on sale at Costco and what's healthy at Costco.

It feels like the Worldwide Web now has more of these videos than it has videos of porn. The recent hurricanes that hit the American Southeast were not covered as extensively and immediately as what the various self-appointed Costco Reporters let us know what to buy and not to buy at their local Costcos.

The two most ubiquitous ones are probably The Deal Guy, Matt Granite, whose beat also covers Amazon, Dollar Tree, Walmart, Sam's Club and anyplace you can get stuff cheap, and the guy behind Flav City, Bobby Parrish, who also covers Trader Joe's, Aldi, Walmart and a few other outlets that sell food that's healthy — or that he considers healthy. Most of the new Costco Reporters on the 'net were probably inspired by the success of these two gents.

I admire the help-people-be-healthy motives of Mr. Parrish, though maybe not quite enough to completely overcome my justified (I think) skepticism of getting medical/health advice from folks who are not certified, been-to-medical-school-and-gotten-their-licenses doctors. Bobby seems like one of the more informed ones but the majority of non-doctors out there lecturing us on this stuff create what sound to me like those Sovereign Citizens who read something on the Internet and decide you can't possibly be arrested for driving without a drivers license. I have no numbers to back this up but I believe the number one cause of death in this country is bad medical advice.

I watch Bobby's videos but I can't apply much of his counseling to my diet. He recommends we replace most other oils in our diets with Avocado Oil, which may be good advice for some folks but I'm very allergic to avocados and my Nephrologist has told me to avoid their oil. I have the same problem with almonds and almond flour, which Bobby endorses mightily, and quite a few other things non-doctors tell me to ingest. Artificial sweeteners are all bad for me but for a while I tried Stevia and monk fruit (not technically artificial sweeteners but they serve the same purpose) and they gave me terrible headaches which stopped immediately when I stopped the Stevia and monk fruit.

Friends who want to cook for me — a very bad idea, by the way — often ask me what foods I can't eat. The list is very, very long and it includes just about everything Bobby urges us to buy. We used to agree on one item: Rao's Marinara Sauce. He loved it and I loved it…and I still love it but it's no longer on the "Bobby-approved" list. Apparently, since the Campbell's company acquired the product, they've made a change. Instead of olive oil, they're now using a blend of olive oil and "refined olive oil" and in Flav City, the latter is a no-no.

Bobby urges a switch to Paesana Organic Marinara Sauce — which he can get at his Costco in Florida (I think that's where he lives) but I can't get it in mine or any local markets. I may start experimenting with other brands once I've used up all the Rao's in my cupboard but I'm kinda flying blind on this. Reading labels might not always tell me if "olive oil" means "olive oil" or it means "olive oil mixed with some unspecified amount of refined olive oil." A friend of mine who's in the same quandary says, "I'll believe the change in Rao's is truly harmful when Bobby takes down the dozens of videos he still has on YouTube that recommend it."

I'm not saying his recommendations might not be solid for you or even the vast majority of humans on this planet. I guess I'm just frustrated because I live in a world where most people who tell you what to eat and what not to eat seem to think everyone can eat everything.

An awful lot of them also seem to think everyone can cook as easily and as well as they can. No matter how bad the additives to a Costco rotisserie chicken could possibly be, it's a lot safer for me to eat one of them than any chicken I might prepare at home. Bobby recommends home-cooked chicken too but the last few times I tried, I was like a rhinoceros attempting to dance hip-hop. I ended up with chickens that were like leather on the outsides, raw on the insides and the steam coming off them formed into a little skull and crossbones hovering over what I had prepared. Every time I decide not to cook anything more elaborate than rice, I may be saving my life.

Another rerun, this time from October 22, 2012. In this time of COVID, I don't have any Tales from Costco because I get home delivery from them. I visited one Costco early in the COVID era to stock up on the necessities of life (toilet paper and paper towels, of course) and one since because I had a coupon to use up that could only be used for in-person shopping. But otherwise, Costco is no longer a place I go. It's a place I order from. I feel a sense of loss because home delivery doesn't give me anecdotes like this one. Or free samples…

It's been a while since I did one of these and not because I haven't been to a Costco. I just didn't find any interesting stories there while I was purchasing my five-year-supply of dental floss and my ten-year-supply of chicken wire. (By the way, someone wrote me that next time I was in Costco, I should pick up a lifetime supply of cole slaw. I already have that. For me, a lifetime supply of cole slaw is no cole slaw. I keep mine right next to my lifetime supply of no candy corn.)

So yesterday, I was driving back from San Diego and I needed to stop for lunch and gas. I arbitrarily got off the 5 in San Clemente, which is a good place to look for such things, and I guess my instincts secretly picked the off-ramp. Without consciously choosing to do so, I wound up driving past Sonny's, which is one of my favorite Italian restaurants. If you're ever in or passing San Clemente and you want a good, cheap place for a plate of pasta, try Sonny's.

I didn't, yesterday. Just wasn't in the mood for Eye-talian so I kept going, browsing San Clemente in search of lunch and petrol. Before long, I found them in the same place: The Costco in San Clemente. Spotted it. Noticed a Pollo Loco next door. Figured I could dine at Pollo Loco, then gas up at Costco. And hey, while I was there, I could pop into Costco for that most futile of goals, "just a few items." I decided to do Costco first, then the Pollo Loco. As it turned out, I dined so well on free samples at Costco, Pollo Loco was unnecessary.

So lunch was free. Of course, I did spend $300+ on cat food, electronics stuff and cleaning supplies while I was there. But lunch was free.

One of the snacks on which I snacked was the combined sampling of two products Costco sells: King's Hawaiian Sweet Rolls and a heat-and-eat package of shredded beef cooked in Jack Daniel's barbecue sauce. A nice, friendly lady at the end of an aisle was heating the beef in a small microwave, then scooping the meat onto rolls to make mini-sliders we could try. "They make their sauce with real Jack Daniel's Whiskey," she announced. "But the cooking process burns off all the alcohol."

As I helped myself to a sample, I said, "Good…because I'm driving." But the truth is there's about as much chance of me ingesting alcohol as there is of me feasting on cole slaw and candy corn. Less, even. I've actually tried cole slaw and candy corn. As I turned to continue with my Costcoing, an older woman customer asked me, "Is that true? About the alcohol burning off? Because I shouldn't have any of that if it doesn't."

I told her I was pretty sure it was safe and pointed to an eight-year-old who was not being restricted from helping himself to a sample. This woman was probably seventy and she said, "You were being cautious because you're driving…"

"That was just me being silly," I explained. "But even if there was alcohol in there, the portion size is too small to get a mosquito tipsy."

"That's good to know," she said. "I haven't had a drink in almost thirty years. What it did to me…I couldn't ever go through that again. Maybe someone like you can handle it…"

"Well actually, ma'am, I've got you beat. I haven't had a drink in sixty years and seven months."

"Really? How old are you?"

I said, "Sixty years and seven months. I've never had a drink in my entire life."

"Really? Not even beer? Or wine?"

I said, "Not even beer or wine. About thirty-five years ago, I had a Nyquil. I gather that's kind of like Jack Daniel's for people with bad colds."

"Never had a drink," she muttered to herself. And as she was muttering, my eyes fell on her shopping cart which was full of Grand Prix cigarettes. Maybe a dozen cartons of them.

"So you didn't have to quit because you never started," she exclaimed. "I wish I'd taken after you."

I had to get back on the road but there are times you'd hate yourself if you didn't say something. I said, "What you should really do is not take after my mother. Have you got two minutes for me to tell you about her?"

The Pandemic has forced a lot of us to alter our life styles and I'm sure I'm not the only person who has discovered some modifications that I prefer.  I have friends who once worked in an office, now work at home…and both they and their employers have decided they like it better that way.  Most voiceover jobs are now done with the actors not commuting to outside recording studios but instead recording in studios they've built in their homes.  It may stay that way even after we have the Absolutely All Clear from the C.D.C.  (A top cartoon voice actor confessed to me that when he records now, he dresses only the part of him that is visible on-camera.  The rest of him is in pajamas.)

I have come to really appreciate the ease of home deliveries from Costco, which I get via my membership with Instacart.  As I mentioned here, once a week I get a delivery from them.  It has to be over $35 or I pay a delivery fee but reaching $35 with Costco is a cinch.  I order two rotisserie chickens — one for me, one for my cleaning lady — and that's $12.42 right there.

When they aren't out of it, which they often are lately, a two-pack of Rao's Marinara Sauce is another $13.42 so that brings me to $25.84.  I can easily make the $35 with almost any supply the cleaning lady needs to keep my home spotless or anything else I want or require.  Recently, it dawned on me that a weekly (or so) order is a very cost-efficient way to shop at Costco.

When I used to actually go into the store, I didn't do that every week or even every month…so I stocked up.  I certainly never get out of a Costco for anywhere near $35.  I bought a lot of things on a "just in case I run out" basis and I probably overbought on occasion.  There were also those irresistible Costco Impulse Buys when you see, say, a set of four snow tires for $34.42 and you think, "I can't pass that up.  What if it snows in Los Angeles for the first time since January 15, 1932?"  (They got two whole inches that day.  Is that enough to require snow tires?  I wouldn't know.)

Costco, using the same principle on view at Disneyland or almost any casino, is laid out to promote the Impulse Buy.  The items you want when you go in there — toilet paper, paper towels, pet food, laundry detergent, rotisserie chickens — are at the back of the store. You have to walk past 7,000 items to get to them…7,000 moments when you might say, "Hey, that's a great price on that." And before you realize you don't need fifty gallons of French's Mustard, it's in your cart.

And then you get to thinking how many hot dogs you're going to need now that you've got all that mustard. Plus, you'll have to have matching amounts of buns, relish, Kirkland Signature Ultra Strength antacid tablets…

True, you don't get all those great free samples by ordering online from Costco. But I'll bet not going into the store saves me a Costco-sized bundle of money.

And as I said, I always get two rotisserie chickens. They're easy, they're cheap (I get about six meals out of one) and they're delicious. So you can imagine my shock/horror/surprise the other night when I placed an order to be delivered the following morning and saw what's just below this paragraph.  I could "request" my chickens but not order them because they were "Likely out of stock."

Costco out of chickens? When? How? Why? Where? That just can't be. It's like McDonald's running out of burgers, New York running out of pizza, the Baltimore Orioles running out of ways to lose, Baskin-Robbins running out of flavors, Kellogg's running out of corn flakes (frosted or not), Philadelphia running out of cheesesteaks, Bic running out of lighters, Trump running out of lies, Reese's running out of Pieces, Gladys running out of Pips — well, you get the idea…

I won't keep you in suspense another moment: I got them. I ordered my two chickens and despite all warnings, they arrived. I'm thinking they were never out or close to being out; that it was just a computer error for a day or so. At least, I hope it was just that. The site where I order them now says nothing about a shortage of rotisserie chickens and I pray it never will. In these perilous, unpredictable times, it's nice to have one thing you can count on. I may check every hour on the hour just so I can feel secure. As of twenty-two minutes ago, they still had them.

Hello. This first ran here on December 14, 2010. Everything in it is unchanged except for the line in the first paragraph where I said, "I don't need to spend money now for mustard I won't use until 2022." I am now spending money for mustard I won't use until 2022, which commences a little less than four weeks from today…

Costco has loads of stuff that I need and plenty of items I don't need. It also has many items I need but not in those quantities. Every time I'm in there, I see the multi-pack of French's Mustard they offer and I think, "Oh, I use French's Mustard" and make a move to put one package in my cart. Then sanity (or my reasonable facsimile) prevails and I think, "Wait a minute. I don't need that much French's Mustard! That's enough to douse ham sandwiches until the decade after next." Yes, I know the stuff keeps. Food these days does not deteriorate. Food these days is so well-packaged and filled with preservatives that it can sit on your shelf for eons. That doesn't mean it should. At the very least, I don't need to spend money now for mustard I won't use until 2022 and I could use the storage space.

First rule of Costco Shopping: Never buy anything without first answering the question, "Where am I going to put this?"

Once in a while, I see a group of friends who've gone to a Costco together as a kind of collective. They've decided to buy things they all need, split the low prices for buying in quantity, then divide up the items later. This makes a lot of sense if you can make it work for you. My last visit, I saw a kibbutz of three out in the parking lot trying to divide their purchases and it looked contentious and friendship-ending to me. One was upset that in their communal purchase of blister-packs o' batteries, they'd gotten plenty of AA and AAA but no 9-Volt, which is what he required. You know how ugly it can sometimes get when pals try to split up a restaurant check? This was worse. I actually overheard the strident phrase, "My needs are not being met."

One of the things that occasionally annoys me about Costco is something I call The Kellogg's Variety Pack Frustration. It harkens back to the day when my parents would let me pick out the cereal I wanted at the supermarket. Naturally, getting a sufficient quantity of one I liked was less important than getting those neat little boxes of them that you could stack up and play with. Why get a decent-sized box of Rice Krispies when I could get the Kellogg's Variety Pack and get a little Rice Krispies and a little Sugar Smacks and a little Sugar Frosted Flakes, etc.? It looked so great but there was that drawback…

Shredded Wheat. The cole slaw of breakfast foods.

A Kellogg's Variety Pack contained ten boxes, five to a side. On each view, I found three cereals I loved…one I could tolerate (Special K, for instance) and one I just plain didn't want. Shredded Wheat was always one. On the other side, there'd be one, as well…usually something with "bran" in the title like Raisin Bran or All-Bran. Whatever it was, it was Shredded Wheat to me. The contents changed from time to time or Kellogg's would issue other samplers. There was a variation called the Request Pack which wasn't bad but the ones I saw in our market only had six boxes and if you did the math, you paid more per little box. I really wanted the ten-pack but I didn't want the Shredded Wheat. It spoiled everything.

I remember standing in the cereal section of a Safeway once — I must have been six or seven — examining every Kellogg's Variety Pack on the shelf. Surely there would be one where someone in the plant in Battle Creek, Michigan erred…one V.P. with no Shredded Wheat and maybe an extra Sugar Corn Pops. That Shredded Wheat spoiled everything for me but I never found a package without it.

I feel that way often in a Costco. They have this nice-three pack of picnic condiments: A bottle of mustard, a bottle of ketchup and a bottle of relish. In this case, the relish is the Shredded Wheat. I never use relish. They have cases of Progresso Soups, every one of which contains two of this one I like, two of that one I like, and so on…but also has two that might as well be Cream of Shredded Wheat. There's a box of little bags of various kinds of Baked Lays chips that I'd buy except it includes Doritos…which are, after all, made out of Shredded Wheat. Or maybe All-Bran, which is just Shredded Wheat in a clever plastic disguise.

Having told you how much I love Costco, I am now attempting to be fair and balanced by telling you I don't like these assortment deals. I don't know why the case of little cans of Chef Boyardee Spaghetti and Meatballs can't be all Chef Boyardee Spaghetti and Meatballs…why it has to contain Beefaroni. Or in a non-food aisle, why the 20-pack of Gel Pens has to have 14 black, three blue and three red. It is far more likely I will need just black pens than that I will need black, blue and red in precisely that ratio. Come on, folks. Why does everything have to have Shredded Wheat in it?

If there's anyone in the L.A. area who loves to go to Costco, needs roughly the same kind of things I need but loves Shredded Wheat, let me know. I think we can work a deal and I promise you won't hear me crying, "My needs are not being met."

This is something that occurred in 2010, back when I used to occasionally commute to Indiana to work on Garfield cartoons.  It was reported here on 9/24/10.  Much has changed since then including the fact that I no longer have business in Indiana…and neither does B.D.'s Mongolian Barbecue, the chain where I stopped for lunch that day.  Their seventeen locations are now situated in Kansas, Missouri, Kentucky, Illinois, Ohio and Michigan…but no longer in Indiana.

On the other appendage, when this happened, Costco had two locations in the Hoosier State and now they have eight.  Also, I no longer buy crates of Friskies Cat Food to feed feral pussycats — and an array of other species — in my backyard. But nothing else has changed…including, I assume, the way Southwest Airlines handles luggage. Here then is another of my…

A few weeks ago, I found myself driving from Indianapolis, Indiana to Muncie, Indiana in a car the Hertz people rented me. Did I say "car?" "Moving van" would be more like it. It was way more vehicle than I wanted or like to drive but it was the only thing they had available that had a GPS in it. I have unerring directional capabilities on my home turf but when I'm a stranger in a strange land, I can't find my way from the toilet in my hotel room to the sink. The Hertz folks put me in it for the price they'd quoted for a mid-sized sedan so I took it for the duration of my stay in Indiana. I figured that if I had some extra time, I could pay for the trip by moving some pianos.

En route to Muncie, I lunched at a B.D.'s Mongolian Barbecue — a favored chain they have back there but not out here — and while chowing down thought, "Gee, I oughta stop off somewhere and buy a new suitcase." Southwest Airlines had rendered my old one unrollable and it was fracturing up one side. I consulted the Yellow Pages app of my iPhone and found a nearby store that from its name seemed like it might have what I wanted. It didn't. Neither did another luggage shop. Both had plenty of bags but not the kind I had in mind.

As I got back into my oversized rental, its excessive bulk made me think of Costco and I realized I'd seen the perfect suitcase a few months earlier at a Costco in Los Angeles. I consulted the app again and it turned out there was a Costco less than two miles from where I was at that moment. This struck me then as unremarkable. After all, there must be Costcos all over Indiana, right? Not right. I later learned that there are only two in the entire state. I just happened to be near one of them…the one in Castleton, Indiana. Minutes later, I was pulling into its parking lot.

It looked just like the ones in Southern California which, in turn, all look like each other. I've been to five different Costcos around here. They vary a bit in whether they have certain add-ons like a tire store or a gas station but they pretty much all look the same on the outside. Within, they look pretty much the same as well, though some are mirror-imaged. As you face the rear of the warehouse, sometimes the groceries are on this side and the tools and appliance-type stuff is on that side.

Sometimes, it's the other way around. It's one of those left brain/right brain things. One of the nice aspects of Costcos, comforting in a way, is their conformity. First time I walked into the one in Burbank, I knew right where everything was. It was in the exact same place as in the Costco I've been known to frequent in Marina Del Rey.

At first glance, the Costco in Castleton was laid out just like both of them and like the one in Los Feliz and the one in Inglewood…but as I moved through it, I noticed subtle and then some not-so-subtle differences. Not everything was in its proper place. The computer software, which should have been over here, was over there. The display of batteries, where you can buy one package containing enough AAAs to power everything you will ever own that takes that size, was not where it was supposed to be, either.

I do not generally have any trace of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder but I seem to get it at Costco. I found myself wanting to grab employees and tell them, "No, no! The contour pillows go at the end of the aisle!" If everything or even most items had been in different spots, I could have coped easily…but you know how it is when just one venetian blind slat is twisted and you just have to correct it? It was like that for me at the Indiana Costco. 95% of its layout seemed correct but I couldn't stop wishing the 5% would conform.

Remembering the purpose of my visit, I took myself to the aisle where the luggage was supposed to be. It wasn't there, which I found doubly unsettling. Never mind that my needs were not being met…it was just plain wrong. There should have been luggage there, not just for me but for everyone.

I wandered the entire store to see where they'd recklessly put it and couldn't find suitcases anywhere. I was just thinking that maybe they didn't carry them when a friendly Costco employee, spotting bewilderment on my brow, asked if she could help me locate anything. We were near the spot where I could point and say, making clear I didn't think this was her fault, "Why aren't there suitcases in that aisle there? There are supposed to be suitcases there."

With a forced smile, she pointed halfway across the warehouse and said, "Luggage is right there, sir. Next to the down comforters." And indeed it was…maddeningly in the wrong place. Believe me, it was not comforting to find it near the comforters. I got back some of my bearings though when I happily discovered they did at least have exactly the suitcase I'd coveted in Los Angeles. Costco had not let me down and I have to tell you, it was a good, reassuring feeling.

Once I had my attention off the baggage crisis, I could browse the store with wider eyes. I free-sampled some new kind of potato chip that I enjoyed…and would later learn is not available, at least not yet, at the Inglewood Costco. I watched the guy preparing the hot rotisserie chickens for purchase and I was consoled to see it was the exact same guy who prepares them for purchase in any Southern California Costco.  Costco acquires everything in bulk, including that guy.

Only one other thing unnerved me. I kept spotting items I needed back home and would momentarily forget it was stupid to purchase them there. Like, I noticed the crates of Friskies I buy, two or three at a time in L.A. to feed my backyard kitty committee. For a half-second, I thought, "Hey, this would be a good time to…" before realizing I didn't really want to pack sixty pounds of canned cat food into my new suitcase and haul it back to California.

So it felt a bit odd to be checking out of a Costco with but one item. Everyone else had a cart that looked like the carts I usually push through checkout, loaded down with enough paper towels to blot up the entire B.P. oil slick. I didn't even have a cart…just one suitcase which rolled quite nicely, by the way. A friendly crew member saw me waiting behind a dozen such carts and suggested I avail myself of the self-service checkout counter. I've never seen one of those in any Costco out here but I steeled myself for something else different and did as he advised.

As I was swiping my credit card — and wondering as I always do why we use that confusing verb for that action — yet another cheery Costco crew member approached to inquire, "Did you find everything you wanted, sir?" I told him yes but added, "I'm from Los Angeles and out there, our Costcos are laid out a little differently." He smiled even more and said, "Well, we do things a little different here in Indiana." Indeed, they do…and I'm not saying any of it's wrong. In fact, in time I could even get used to the crates of yardsticks being next to the nine-packs of Kirkland-brand paprika. But it would take a lot of time.

This post was first posted here on 9/19/10. In recent years, for reasons I'm sure you understand, Costco has gone from being a place where I shop often to a place I go on rare occasions but I get a lot of deliveries from them.

Since this first appeared, the KMart near me has done what KMarts everywhere have done: Gone out of business. But that's okay because I have all the ball peen hammers anyone could ever need. I have one.

I gave up on Brita filters after deciding they were no match for the shouldn't-be-there things in our drinking water in my area and I no longer buy white vinegar. But I do buy lots of Rao's Marinara Sauce and I still feel the same way about the business establishment from which I get it…

For reasons I'm not sure I can explain, I like shopping at Costco. Well actually, I don't really like shopping anywhere but since one must at times shop, this one prefers to do it at Costco and not that many other places. Some of that is because when you shop at Costco, you go home with such large quantities that there's less need to shop again soon.

But I also like the feel of the place, the mood of the customers and employees, the little women in the hairnets dispensing free samples…and the fact that in almost every visit, I take home something that makes my life better in some way. I have been to five different Costcos in Southern California and as I'll tell you in the next installment in this series, one in Indiana. I felt very welcome in all of them.

That is not the case with other huge stores. In the last few months, I found myself in a Kmart, a Best Buy, a Target and a Walmart. I couldn't wait to get out of the Walmart. There was something tacky about the place…a joyless mood with customers afraid to make eye contact with one another. I was there because I was looking for three items I'd been unable to procure anywhere else and the Walmart website said this particular store had all three in stock. It lied. They were out of two and had never heard of the third…or so said a pale store employee who looked like one of the orphans in a bad road company of Oliver. I was almost happy to hear that they didn't have what I wanted because that meant I could leave immediately. Which I did.

The one nice thing about the store for me, though I didn't purchase anything, was that anything they seemed to have in multiple colors, they had in orange. Some Walmart exec must have ordered this because usually when you have to pick the color of something you're buying, my favorite color is not an option. I'm even surprised when you can get an orange in orange. Anyway, I got out of there fast and didn't even pause to buy something that was orange.

My assistant Darcie and I stopped into a Target a few months ago to pick up a new vacuum cleaner for my mother's house. They had about twenty sample models on display and once I'd made my selection, I had the nigh-impossible task of flagging down a store employee to fetch me a fresh one from the back. Darcie and I fanned out to scour the aisles but we could find no one. You'd have better luck trying to hail a taxicab in Times Square on New Year's Eve if you were non-white and bleeding.

Finally, one clerk apparently made a wrong turn and wandered close enough that Darcie could tackle him. He grudgingly looked up the model I wanted and told me it was out of stock. Then he looked up my second choice and told me it was out of stock. After he informed me my third choice was out of stock, I told him, "Let's do this the easy way. Tell me which of these vacuums you do have in stock." He actually said, "All of them, except for the ones we're out of."

I go occasionally and voluntarily to a Kmart near me because it's near me and sometimes, you have a sudden urgent need for a ball peen hammer. Best Buy isn't bad but for some reason, every time I find an item I want, it's the only one they have left and it's been purchased by someone else, returned and resealed. The sales people sometimes look that way, as well.

So it's Costco for me and I am well aware that it's a different kind of store from the other institutions. For one thing, at Kmart you can buy one of something. But at Costco, people look at each other like they're not ashamed to be there. Oh, one may occasionally fight over a rotisserie chicken but for the most part, it's a very friendly place.

When I take my business there, I not only come home with truckloads of toilet paper, case lots of white vinegar and enough Brita filters to purify Lake Michigan…I usually come home with an anecdote or two. I've told some of them here before and will be sharing a few more under this category heading in the next few days. You may wind up with more of them than you want but I'm afraid that's just part of The Costco Experience.

8/7/10 was when this adventure was first detailed on this site. This was back when I used to actually go to Costco rather than let Instacart shop for me and bring my order — usually including one rotisserie chicken for me and one for my cleaning lady — to my door.

The piece is also dated by a reference to a lady named Orly Taitz, who was popping up on cable news shows a lot then. Dr. Taitz (she was a dentist) was a Russian-born conspiracy theorist who claimed to have irrefutable evidence than Barack Obama was born in a country other than the United States and was therefore ineligible to serve as President of this nation. Like almost everyone who ever gets referred to as a "conspiracy theorist," her irrefutable evidence turned out to be highly refutable and even people who wished she could prove her claims gave up on her. She is still apparently around, promoting other silly scenarios and she has run for office three times in California and, by an amazing coincidence, lost three times.

So here's another rerun. These will stop soon…

So yesterday I go to a Costco…and it was really a new "low" for me in that I got out for (barely) under a hundred bucks. Usually, I go in to buy just paper towels or just peanut butter and I wind up leaving with eight computers, six snow tires, twelve birdbaths and enough Eucerin to moisturize a rhino into having the skin you love to touch. But this time, I pick up just a few goodies and then head for the rear of the store to get one of the yummy, plump prepared rotisserie chickens to take home. I can live off one of them for a month.

Usually, they have a dozen or so out and in the back, you can see the expert setup where the staff is rotissering (is that a word?) more and it's all timed out so that just as customers have grabbed up the last batch, the next flock comes out. Today however, the procedure hits a snag. Two men, working in tandem and each pushing one of those Hummer-sized Costco shopping carts, come in and denude the display. With the expertise of the Ocean's 11 team cleaning out the Sands, they grab up all the available chickens that are left over from the previous output…and they're there as the latest ones are put forth so they seize all of them, as well.

They have about 23 chickens plus about a half-dozen orders of BBQ ribs in their two carts as they head for the checkout, leaving zero chickens for the rest of us. I am among about a dozen shoppers who are left to stare longingly at empty shelves. One of us inquires how long it might be before there are more available and the answer turns out to be about 40 minutes. This is dangerous, at least for me. If I hang around a Costco for 40 minutes, I will buy thirty crates of A-1 Sauce, nine more computers, enough blouses to clothe Paraguay and at least one Goodyear Blimp, except it will say "Kirkland" on the side.

Others around me are outraged. Most expected to carry home a hot Seasoned Chicken to feed the family that evening and their plans are awry. They begin demanding immediate chickens and the beleaguered rotisserer (that can't be a word) is having trouble explaining that he cannot furnish more cooked hens on demand; that they require a certain amount of prep time. One lady in particular — our Self-Appointed Spokeswoman — proclaims she speaks for us all. We are all good, loyal, longtime Costco patrons and we are incensed that our dinner menus are inoperative. I don't recall voting for her and I don't think she has the proper outlook on the situation. She seems to think that if one is loud enough and angry enough, Costco can make fully-cooked poultry instantly appear.

Over comes a manager or some other official who's heard the shouting and also noticed that customers who couldn't care less about barbecued fowl are crowding around to watch the dinner theater. He tries to placate this woman who will simply not be placated. He explains that it simply takes X number of minutes to cook more of what we want. This does not satisfy the Orly Taitz of barbecued chickens. She insists that he grovel a bit, admit that the system is seriously f'ed up and in dire need of correction, and then present her with an immediate chicken-to-go. Or else.

The Costco boss-person insists the system works fine, 99% of the time. It just doesn't work if two guys come in and buy 23 chickens all at once, which in all his years of managing has never before happened. He explains that Costco sells no chicken that is more than two hours old; that once a hen has gone untaken that long, it's removed from the shelf and either discarded or stripped of its meat to make Costco's chicken soup. With the patience of Job or maybe even an Obama supporter, he tells her that it's all expertly timed for the normal traffic and that if they made more than they do, they'd wind up throwing out too many unsold chix and have to raise the price. And of course there's no guarantee that if there had been ten more chickens there, those two fellows wouldn't have purchased 33 chickens.

He is just explaining why Costco couldn't limit the number of chickens per person when I notice that standing next to me among the amused spectators, is a man with about fifteen Kirkland Seasoned Chickens in his cart. It's one of the two gents who'd bought out the available supply and it looks like he's returned to the scene of the crime to see if and when more might be available. I turn to him and say, "See what you caused?"

The man chuckles, then hears our unofficial spokeswoman start to ratchet it up to yelling and insulting the manager's sanity and parentage. Out of some combination of guilt and peacekeeping, the man with all the birds takes one from his cart, thrusts it at the lady and says, "Here…go home and feed your family." Then before other chicken-cravers can pounce on his stash, he turns and pushes his cart away. As he passes me, he says, "You want one, too?" I say yes and he hands me one and then gets the hell outta there. I look at all the unfulfilled folks who desperately wanted what I now have, see the expression on their faces and decide to also go and pay.

In the checkout line, I find myself standing behind the loud lady. She is still outraged in a manner that suggests to me this is how she is about everything in life. At the moment, she is outraged that she had to make a fuss to get what she should have had all along…but to me she looks kinda proud of herself.

I start to think, "I don't know how people can go through life being that rude, especially about something as mundane as a rotisserie chicken." But then I slap and correct myself: They do it because it works. For some people, getting your way is more important than what you get, and "winning" can justify any means. Even though her rudeness indirectly got me what I wanted, I wish it hadn't turned out like that.

Then again, as I'm writing this, I'm lunching on a damn fine sandwich made out of leftover chicken.

There was no line to get into my local Costco yesterday and not much of one to check out even though I think they removed a few cashier stations so they could move the remaining ones farther apart. No free samples, of course…but they had plenty of hand sanitizer, masks, toilet paper and paper towels for sale. The last time I was there, which was in March, they didn't have the first two and they were rationing the last two. I didn't need any of those things then or yesterday but yesterday, they were totally out of two vital things on my shopping list.

So that was a disappointment and as I left, I thought there was another one: No funny anecdote to share here. But then outside as I paused to take a cell call, I began watching a man eat a Costco-sized slice of pizza with his mask on (see this tweet).  And as I ended the call but continued to watch the slice-eater, a lady stopped to ask where she could get a mask like mine.  I told her and she said, "You know, I don't like this whole mask thing but I suppose it's necessary."

I said, "Only if you care about silly little things like survival."  She chuckled and I added, "I don't think it's such a big deal to wear them."

She replied, "Oh, I don't mind wearing one.  I just don't like everyone else wearing them.  I like to recognize celebrities on the street and with everyone wearing masks, it's awfully hard.  Two days ago in Beverly Hills, I think I saw Martin Sheen but with the mask, you can't be sure."

Just then, someone walked by wearing not a mask but one of those transparent face shields.  She pointed to him and said, "See?  They oughta make celebrities wear those."  I thought that was silly but I also thought it might be easier to eat a slice of pizza with one of those on.

I haven't done one of these in a while because the last few times I've been to Costco, nothing interesting happened. Yesterday afternoon though, it was kind of interesting to be there with the Coronavirus Scare on. On my way in, the lady at the door who checks to make sure you're a member was announcing over and over, a list of items which the store was out of (like hand sanitizer) or rationing (like water and toilet paper).

There was a long line in the back of the store to get the rationed items. It apparently moved slowly because a number of folks didn't just want to put the one package of bottled water in their carts and move on. They wanted to argue they should be allowed to buy as many as they wanted. One woman began yelling because she saw a couple get two so she demanded that she could buy two even after it was explained to her that the couple had two Costco accounts.

I didn't get too near this because, maintaining a well-stocked home, I wasn't seeking anything that was sold out or in limited supply. They had plenty of rotisserie chickens, cases of cat food and other necessities of life. I did though have to fight for that case of cat food.

I picked it up in one corner of the store and placed it in my cart. Ten minutes later, I was over in the opposite corner of the store — about as far from the pet supplies aisle as one could be — and I left my cart for about thirty seconds to grab a few nearby items. When I returned to my cart, a man close to my age was taking the cat food out of it and putting the case into his. I said, "Excuse me. I think that's my cat food."

The guy said very firmly, "It's not yours. You haven't paid for it yet."

I said, "But it's got my name on it."

He looked quizzically at the case and asked, "What's your name?"

I said, "Friskies Paté. But my friends all call me 'Frisk.'" He laughed, put the case back into my cart and said, "I'm sorry." Then he reached out to shake hands and I extended my fist so we bumped knuckles. Until this scare is over, I'm not shaking hands with anyone except people who have been tested and Howie Mandel. The Friskies Thief said, "I just didn't want to walk all the way over to the other side of the store."

I said, "Get in the baby seat and I'll push you over there." He laughed again and that was the end of that.

I was expecting to see people shopping with masks on but I didn't. The most noticeable sign of virus concern at Costco apart from the line for certain supplies was that they've eliminated the free samples. Folks seemed disappointed but they understood. I heard a woman in a Bernie Sanders t-shirt say, "They could at least give out free samples of hand sanitizer" and I told her, "…a product that is in no need of special promotion these days."

On the way home, I stopped at a Von's Market for a few things they either don't stock at Costco or they stock them in bundles too large for me to deal with. Again, items were being rationed. Here's a photo that I took of a sign that was at all the checkout counters…

I read the rationed items out loud: "Liquid anti-bacterial soap…liquid hand sanitizer…gloves…face masks."  The cashier said, "I don't know why we need that sign up.  We've been smack out of all those things since the middle of last week."

The woman behind me in line said, "We just ordered hand sanitizer online.  They wanted $20 for a container that's usually three dollars."

The cashier said, "Honey, you don't need that.  We've still got bar soap on the shelves.  Hot water…soap…that'll get the job done."

Just to be silly, I said, "I see you're limiting each customer to five gloves.  Shouldn't that be an even number?"  Nobody laughed.  They all gave me one of those "Can he possibly be that stupid?" looks so I grabbed up my groceries and headed for the car.  On the way out, I saw they had a little stand with a Purell® dispenser next to where you select your shopping cart. I briefly considered stealing it but decided not to. Someone else will…probably that lady in the Bernie Sanders t-shirt.

My amigo of about half a century Tony Isabella and his too-good-for-him wife Barb were in town for one day, flown in for the premiere of the Ant-Man movie. They were on such a tight turnaround that the only way I could see them was to volunteer to pick them up at their hotel in Hollywood and drive them to their flight at LAX, stopping off for breakfast on the way. I wish I had a friend like me.

I chauffeured them to Pann's, an old-style coffee shop that seems to exist largely as a place to eat breakfast when you're going to or from Los Angeles International Airport. Tony, Barb and I talked about all sorts of things including the current TV show and comic book resurgence of Black Lightning, a hero born of the vast imagination of Mr. Isabella.

We also had an interesting discussion about how when we re-read comics we liked back in the seventies, we find that some of the work holds up well, some actually improves with age and some of it causes you to wonder, "What the heck did I like about this back then?" I shall expand on this topic one of these days in this space.

Before we left for the airport, I had to use the restroom. I was delighted to find that Pann's has now designated one just for me…and I know this because it has my initials on the door. I shall have to stop in and use it more often…

Dumped them off, then went to Fry's Electronics in El Segundo and couldn't find a single thing I wanted to buy. If you've ever been to a Fry's, you know that something is horribly, horribly wrong when you can't find nineteen things you want to buy. I'm just not sure if it's wrong with them or me but I suspect it has much to do with the ease of ordering from Amazon Prime.

I had no such problem at my next stop, which was at a Costco — and I think I'll stick in one of these which I haven't done lately…

What I think I love most about Costco is that moment as you and your cart head for checkout, you look at the mass quantities you've selected and you momentarily think, "This is great! I won't have to go shopping again until late next year…if then!" This is followed by the sad realization that some necessities of life are perishable so you cannot stock up with them at Costco and not have to stop in at a supermarket later in the week. Oh, why oh why can't Costco stock bread and vegetables that stay fresh forever?

Of course, I feasted on some yummy Costco dim sum, which is what I call the free samples available throughout the store. I watched as one young man sampled a little cupcake-wrapper full of "kettle" potato chips, enjoyed the hell out of them, then began going around and around one of those long aisles so he could pass the potato chip lady again, grabbing another free sample each go-round. She either wasn't paying attention, didn't care or thought that every ninth shopper who helped himself to chips was a clone of the same person.

Ahead of me in line at checkout was a lady with a cart that looked like this truly was the last time she would be shopping until late next year…if then. And she certainly had enough toilet paper to last a family of six until about 2027. She was giggling and expressing audible delight at the great prices as she transferred everything from the basket up onto the conveyor belt.

That was when the checker asked her for her Costco membership card — to which the woman replied, "Oh, I don't have one. Do I really need one?" Behind her in line, all of us thought, "Oh, we're going to be here for a while." Others farther back immediately shifted over to other lines but I was next and I decided I'd do better to tough it out. It got pretty tough.

The whole concept of membership was explained to this woman. She could not shop Costco without a Costco card, the cheapest of which runs $60. She should not even have been allowed into the store without one but somehow, she'd slipped past the person at the door at whom you proudly flash your card so you can feel momentarily special. Her reply? "I don't want to spend sixty dollars on a card. I'm spending hundreds of dollars here. You should just give me a card!"

A very patient sales person explained it doesn't work like that. He pointed to the rest of us with our carts bulging with cat food, paper towels, laundry detergent, Kirkland® Signature Organic 100% Juice Box Variety Pacs, beef jerky, snow tires and the obligatory rotisserie chickens and he said, "Everyone spends hundreds of dollars here and they all buy cards!" I held up mine as proof of what he said.

The lady was not budging from her position and it looked like the conversation would last longer than the metric ton of Ritz Crackers in my cart which I had opened and started eating, lest I starve while this brouhaha ensued. Fortunately, Costco employees are sharp and another one of them saw what was happening. She quickly opened the adjoining checkout counter so I and the rest of the line could take a detour around Ms. "Why should I have to buy a card?"

When I departed with my swag, I could still hear the woman protesting having to spring for a Costco membership in order to receive membership privileges at Costco. The unfairness of it all. I can be stubborn at times but I do usually recognize that there is something in this world called An Argument You're Not Going To Win. This is especially true when you're fighting with someone who hasn't the power to do what you think should be done. It's like demanding that your mailman do something to get your Uncle Morris on the new Forever Stamps.

Being able to spot systematically unwinnable arguments can save a lot of time and stress in your life. It's a good thing to remember, especially if you come upon someone who thinks the precise opposite of whatever it is you think about Donald Trump. As far as I know, that woman is still standing there at Checkout Counter 4 at that Costco, trying to get a guy with no power to change the rules of the corporation to see things her way. When I run out of 13.5 lb. sacks of Arm & Hammer Pure Baking Soda and have to go back there for twenty more, I will not be surprised to see her there.

This will probably amuse about six people but since I'm one of them and it's my blog, here it is. At first, it may not sound like a Tale From Costco but be patient. We'll get there.

We all have silly little words and phrases that inexplicably make us laugh. One of mine came from a comedy writer named Fred Rosenberg who, alas, is no longer with us. There are a number of Fred Rosenbergs alive and working in the entertainment industry but not the one who did the great impression of comedian Jack Carter.

It was a really dumb impression — that was kind of the point of it — but Fred did it every time I was around him and I always found it funny. He wouldn't replicate Carter's voice but he'd mimic the man's posture and frantic onstage manner. (For those of you who came in late to comedy: Jack Carter was a popular comic of the fifties and sixties, often seen on The Ed Sullivan Show and any other venue that booked stand-ups.)

So Fred would do this inane impression and it consisted of one line out of Carter's act. This is from around 1962…

These kids today with their dances! They do the Mashed Potato! They do the Baked Potato!

(And again, to translate for these kids today: The Mashed Potato was a dance somewhat like The Twist. There was probably a dance called the Baked Potato somewhere but Carter's joke was based on the assumption that there wasn't…and wasn't it absurd to think there might be? That's part of why Fred's impression was so funny to me, hauling out that silly line.)

Anyway, I laughed whenever Fred did the impression and to this day when I see mashed potatoes somewhere, I am often reminded of Fred's portrayal and I laugh. Yesterday afternoon, I was in Costco. I put a rotisserie chicken in my cart. I put a packaged Kosher-for-Passover turkey breast in my cart. I put four large bags of Arm & Hammer Baking Soda in my cart. I put a case of organic chicken broth in my cart. I put a case of canned cat food in my cart. I did not put either a large package of paper towels or toilet paper in my cart and I was wondering if they'd let me out of the building without one.

And then I spotted a big package of prepared mashed potatoes on display and it made me think of Fred Rosenberg's Jack Carter impression and I laughed. It's been more than twenty years since I last saw Fred but I heard his voice in my head and I laughed out loud. Other shoppers looked at me strangely but I didn't care.

One elderly gent who glared at me was driving around on one of those little scooters that Costco provides for shoppers who can't walk. He stared at me as if to say, "What's that idiot laughing about?" And I stared at him and thought, "Hey, I know who that is…" And I swear to God — it was Jack Carter.

It's been a while since I did one of these and not because I haven't been to a Costco. I just didn't find any interesting stories there while I was purchasing my five-year-supply of dental floss and my ten-year-supply of chicken wire. (By the way, someone wrote me that next time I was in Costco, I should pick up a lifetime supply of cole slaw. I already have that. For me, a lifetime supply of cole slaw is no cole slaw. I keep mine right next to my lifetime supply of no candy corn.)

So yesterday, I was driving back from San Diego and I needed to stop for lunch and gas. I arbitrarily got off the 5 in San Clemente, which is a good place to look for such things, and I guess my instincts secretly picked the off-ramp. Without consciously choosing to do so, I wound up driving past Sonny's, which is one of my favorite Italian restaurants. If you're ever in or passing San Clemente and you want a good, cheap place for a plate of pasta, try Sonny's.

I didn't, yesterday. Just wasn't in the mood for Eye-talian so I kept going, browsing San Clemente in search of lunch and petrol. Before long, I found them in the same place: The Costco in San Clemente. Spotted it. Noticed a Pollo Loco next door. Figured I could dine at Pollo Loco, then gas up at Costco. And hey, while I was there, I could pop into Costco for that most futile of goals, "just a few items." I decided to do Costco first, then the Pollo Loco. As it turned out, I dined so well on free samples at Costco, Pollo Loco was unnecessary.

So lunch was free. Of course, I did spend $300+ on cat food, electronics stuff and cleaning supplies while I was there. But lunch was free.

One of the snacks on which I snacked was the combined sampling of two products Costco sells: King's Hawaiian Sweet Rolls and a heat-and-eat package of shredded beef cooked in Jack Daniel's barbecue sauce. A nice, friendly lady at the end of an aisle was heating the beef in a small microwave, then scooping the meat onto rolls to make mini-sliders we could try. "They make their sauce with real Jack Daniel's Whiskey," she announced. "But the cooking process burns off all the alcohol."

As I helped myself to a sample, I said, "Good…because I'm driving." But the truth is there's about as much chance of me ingesting alcohol as there is of me feasting on cole slaw and candy corn. Less, even. I've actually tried cole slaw and candy corn. As I turned to continue with my Costcoing, an older woman customer asked me, "Is that true? About the alcohol burning off? Because I shouldn't have any of that if it doesn't."

I told her I was pretty sure it was safe and pointed to an eight-year-old who was not being restricted from helping himself to a sample. This woman was probably seventy and she said, "You were being cautious because you're driving…"

"That was just me being silly," I explained. "But even if there was alcohol in there, the portion size is too small to get a mosquito tipsy."

"That's good to know," she said. "I haven't had a drink in almost thirty years. What it did to me…I couldn't ever go through that again. Maybe someone like you can handle it…"

"Well actually, ma'am, I've got you beat. I haven't had a drink in sixty years and seven months."

"Really? How old are you?"

I said, "Sixty years and seven months. I've never had a drink in my entire life."

"Really? Not even beer? Or wine?"

I said, "Not even beer or wine. About thirty-five years ago, I had a Nyquil. I gather that's kind of like Jack Daniel's for people with bad colds."

"Never had a drink," she muttered to herself. And as she was muttering, my eyes fell on her shopping cart which was full of Grand Prix cigarettes. Maybe a dozen cartons of them.

"So you didn't have to quit because you never started," she exclaimed. "I wish I'd taken after you."

I had to get back on the road but there are times you'd hate yourself if you didn't say something. I said, "What you should really do is not take after my mother. Have you got two minutes for me to tell you about her?"