Went to Costco. Now What?

I’m still recovering from my first trip to Costco. I needed a couple of Ibuprofen after carrying the crate of Ibuprofen to my truck, which, by the way, I needed to get my entire shipment home. However, that’s not what I’m recovering from. I just can’t get over the sensational impact of the size-itudinality and quanti-bogacity of that experience.

What if I had bumped into Pope Francis there shopping for the poor, pushing his own cart and not being hauled around in the decommissioned pope mobile? Damn right, I’d have given him a piece of my mind. “Che, pibe!” I’d have yelled at the Pontifical Porteño. “Go back and get that pope mobile, and load that sucker up!” But, who am I to judge?


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