Comments on: An Insider’s Look at Costco

By: Charlie

Charlie — Thu, 13 Nov 2008 00:06:34 +0000

I think you need to stop drinking and let other people enjoy their hot dog!

By: IQ9

IQ9 — Sun, 20 Nov 2005 17:15:05 +0000

Thank the Gods there is one other sane person in this world! Costco F’ING DRIVES ME BATTY! I had never been to Costco before two years ago. The development we moved into is right next to one.

People would gasp, “Oh my God! You live by Costco? Oh, that must be so great. You’re so lucky! Honey, come here. They live by Costco! Isn’t that just wonderful?”

From the way the townspeople spoke of it with such reverence, such utter respect, I had visions of a shimmering warehouse of gold, laden with glowing marble floors and walls, where magical winged Customer Service Fairies would fly me through the store, showing me exactly what I needed, while we laughed gayly as the infinite savings gushed forth, directly into my pockets.

What exactly IS the fascination with Costco? The prices are the same as everywhere else. You spend $40 a year to save $40 a year, but get a shitty shopping experience in deplorable conditions, pitiful service, with downright dangerous food, surrounded by the world’s least evolved sapiens. Furthermore, the money you save buying a 12-gallon jug of olive oil is lost when you have to get rid of it because it is either taking up too much room or is going bad. Costco is actually COSTing me more money!

For some reason, I keep returning, being lead there by my nose to join in the “wondrous bargains”. I guess it is half morbid curiosity and half utter perplexity as to what the hell my 40 bucks is buying.

Can’t figured it out.

By: MR

MR — Fri, 11 Feb 2005 23:40:01 +0000

That picture is hilarious, but it needs a better caption:

“Admissions staff member Dave Allen craves a weiner.”

By: MR

MR — Wed, 09 Feb 2005 21:10:37 +0000

Only Oscar Meyer, huh? You are the connoisseur. I like how you’ve grown finicky over which brand of asshole you consume. It’s the sign of a true gourmet.

One final thought, if there was ever someone that could justify the cost of the Costco membership just in the hotdog savings alone, it is you my friend.

By: Bailes

Bailes — Wed, 09 Feb 2005 03:33:16 +0000

You geeks have way too much time on your hands.

By: DA

DA — Tue, 08 Feb 2005 23:20:03 +0000

For the record (you jotting this down, Matt?), I never put mustard or ketchup on my hotdogs as that degrades the “lips and a-hole” taste I came to love as a child. In fact, I’ve come to a point in my life where I can only eat Oscar Meyer hot dogs, thus the 7-11 connection as that is their brand of choice.

In NY, I’d rather get a slice over a dog any day but, hey, if a dog is barking at me, who am I to turn it away? I’m a humane guy and I don’t believe in letting dogs go stray.

By: solo

solo — Tue, 08 Feb 2005 22:45:29 +0000

I’m not knocking the hot dog. It took me about two years before I started eating street dogs in NY. Somehow I’ve overcome the fear, it’s not a bad snack, and for a $1.50, I know you’d get 2 DA, WITH mustard and onions. Buyakah.

By: DA

DA — Tue, 08 Feb 2005 17:37:08 +0000

Someone put me up to buying those dogs for you at your bachelor party, I swear! I think I gave them to some homeless guy named Bailes or something when you decided to get a closer look at your entrails.

The Kielbasa in Boston was all my idea however. Oh, Anne Brown, wherever you are, I’ve got a botttle of Orangina that I’ve been saving just for you!

By: MR

MR — Tue, 08 Feb 2005 17:03:59 +0000

And what about that bar in Boston, where you ordered like a 20-inch Polish Sausage? That thing was huge. You were hitting on the waitress between bites of this huge phallic piece of meat. Ultimately, you won her heart, so I guess I can’t question your methods…

I apologize for back-to-back comments, I’m being flooded with memories of you and hotdogs right now…

By: MR

MR — Tue, 08 Feb 2005 16:54:51 +0000

What about my bachelor party? You ordered two footlongs after we left the bar. Just the sight of one made me puke on the sidewalk. I was too busy puking in the cab to remember what became of those hotdogs, but I assume you double-fisted them on the way back to the hotel.