She took my silver spurs, a dollar and a dime,
And left me cravin’ for
More summer wine…
Something weird is going on here. Yesterday I ran up to the Costco to pick up a month’s supply of dog meat and other Beloved Costco Necessaries. This is normally a $300 to $350 venture.
But…in spite of buying two pairs of camis ($20 + 10% sales tax) and a lifetime supply of electric toothbrush heads ($30 + etc.), and a bottle of wine ($9 + etc. + some other gouge), I only spent $202!
If I took the camis back this afternoon, we could claim I spent only $180.
But I’m not gunna. They fit and the new version, lacking the formerly much desired and now redundant shelf bra, is very comfortable. And the colors…mmmm-mmm! Summer wine!
The set of 8 electric toothbrush thingies will last me about a year. So that ain’t goin’ back, either.
Two hundred dollah and out the door! That is ay-mazing.
What’s most ay-mazing, though, is the realization that nothing in the place called out to me to take it home!
Costco is normally Impulse Buy Hell for me. But as I strolled up and down the aisle, I didn’t see a single thing that I absolutely positively just HAD to have because the next time I get there it’ll be gone, ohhh eeek!
Each month since I started the “go there only once a month” scheme, the tab has dropped by fifty to a hundred dollars.
First it was four hundred. Then three hundred. Now two hundred?!? And no craving for more summer wine????
Seriously: I wonder if returning regularly to a place like Costco — a huge, bazaar-like place whose aisles are lined with temptations — somehow keeps you coming back for more, and if you stay away from it, maybe the desire for more goes away. And if that’s so…
Does that or does that not define an addiction?