Palletized Excess -- Part 2

Continuation through the belly of the beast…

Many truths are universal to mankind; honesty will set us free, light overcomes darkness, money is always diminishing, and love is generational connective tissue. I can add another one - drinking orange juice after brushing your teeth is just plain stupid. Who at Cosco dreamt up the brilliant end cap of Colgate breath strips next to the frozen concentrate sampler? With ground down incisors causing the rage to build, thank goodness the soothing sounds of Alphaville came over the house speakers calming the beast within… Forever Young, I want to be forever young. Do you really want to live forever? I say no Marian Gold. I just don’t want to die in this consumption juggernaut. Then go my son… the bulk dried fruit isle is over yonder.

With fresh legs and diamonds in my eyes, the dried fruit isle was a mere carnival of dehydration. At one point I heard the synthesizers in the next isle demoing the theme to Chariots of Fire, nearly derailing my clown sized cart, the spirit of the Flying Scotsman came over me as I willed my flowing chlorine matted hair to the industrial fans head winding my exodus. So many adventures could happen this day… Luckily the box boys had cleared out the excess cardboard, allowing me to J-hook various cellowrapped selections without ever breaking stride. I would’ve taken a 30-pound block of Limburger cheese if it had been restocked incorrectly (Mini-Van and Novalee would’ve been collectively backed up ‘til their 18th birthdays with that much queso.)

By this time compassion for fellow man had died on the vine, it was every oversized cart driving suburbanite for themselves. Rounding the corner, with sanity held by a thin strand and mob mentality taking hold in the freezer section, it was time to get my bounty of bulk out of this high ceilinged, big box prison without bars before I picked up a 60’ plasma screen, new snow tires, and a year’s worth of water purification tablets. Slapping my exclusive membership card and Hello Kity themed debit card on the stand (no joke, I’ll show you all later). I yelled to the bag boy, “Don’t go cheap on me. Bust out the good stuff… I know you got the double walled boxes in the back!"

Racing to my truck, dodging text deprived house wives backing out by Braille in not ESP; I cleared the real life version of Frogger with only a minor fear of the population we call “can you believe the nerve!”

Next time, Wal-Mart at 2am for diapers and turkey bacon.