Why Do I love CostCo So Much?

It's dingy. The lighting stinks. The floors are scuffed linoleum. The products are just shoved out there on pallets or arranged on top of metal tables. It smells like warehouse mingled with whatever samples are being cooked for shoppers' delectation that particular day.

And I love it. I'd take it over Nordstrom or Saks or Neiman any day. I love pushing my gigantic cart up and down the aisles. I love pawing over the discounted books and DVDs. I love staring at 10 gallon cans of Lindsay black olives. I love wondering what anyone could possibly do with a vat of melted American cheese sauce and live to talk about. I love mountains of socks, giant bags of shelled walnuts, tractor lawn mowers pushed right up against the display of fresh shrimp and salmon.

CostCo has no style, no flash, no nuthin' but good prices, great quality, and a no-nonsense ambience that I have to admit I've come to love.

Yes, we spent the afternoon at CostCo. We are $157 poorer but if you ever need the world's biggest jar of roasted red peppers, call me. I might be able to help.