Ever since then, I'd sworn never to live more than 20 minutes from one of their glorious warehouses: in New York, there was one nestled in Brooklyn; in San Antonio, I was in the Bermuda Triangle of warehouse shopping, where entire days could be lost at various stores; and in Sausalito, I have Novato (and it really is the only reason anyone ever goes to Novato). Despite the apparent similarity of all the stores, there are some major differences and memorable occasions.
The Costco in the center of San Francisco is like no other: with a large Asian community, it's full of Chinese and Japanese foods that can only be found here. Crispy Ducks, shrimp wonton soups, seaweed and edamame - it's all available in massive quantities. It's also supremely busy, like the Highway 101 of supermarket shopping, with carts 3-lanes across driving at breakneck speed. There's no variation in business: 9.30am on a Tuesday morning is the same as 6pm on the Friday before Christmas - 50% of all people in San Francisco live here permanently.
The shop floor activity at this location is best described as a disturbed nest of fire ants, with Costconians fighting aggressively, desperately unable to walk in straight lines, scurrying around with shopping carts in a way that makes you fear the fact they all have drivers licenses. I've been the victim of multiple hit-and-runs. I've even been cart-jacked when I left a lone 12-pack of butter croissants and came back to find the cart gone and the croissants unceremoniously wedged into a 6-pack of engine oil. Soon there'll be shootings in the aisles if the food sample war heats up, leaving piles of bodies where demonstrations of chicken potstickers once were. If they would position a few homeless people and drug-dealers around the store, Costco would be a microcosm of the city at large. They could even build steep hills out of merchandise to make it even more authentic.
The Novato store is more sedate, though weirdly I met Tony Curtis there at a book signing, and he's now approximately a thousand years old. What on earth was Tony Curtis doing in Novato? We all ask ourselves the same question in the line for the dollar-fifty hot dog and fountain soda. The routine has become so ingrained that I know all the things I need simply by flying on autopilot: chicken breasts every month, toilet rolls every two months, a case of diced tomatoes every three months. And once a year, I get to go a little crazy and buy something completely unnecessary like a home theater system or a electric scooter.
I am a sucker for quantity discount purchasing. I cringe at the prices in regular supermarkets and practically have a conniption every time I have to pay $3 for one organic avocado at Whole Foods. Yet I hate Wal-Mart, which seems like a kind of consumer purgatory, reminiscent of the hospital in One Flew Out of The Cuckoo's Nest. Whereas Wal-Mart is dank and miserable, devoid of soul and a beacon for every that's wrong with consumer mentality, Costco is bright and cheery and a great place to spend an hour. The staff at Wal-Mart look like hunted animals with the hope of retirement being the distant light at the end of the tunnel; Costco employees seem more energetic and lively.
No supermarket will even win my affections from Costco - you're not going to find two gallons of milk for $5 at any Safeway. And while supermarkets fill the first aisles with fresh produce, Costco goes straight for the male jugular and piles flatscreens and cool electronics at Internet prices. Then there's always the pointless must-have items, such as a $2000 Atari throwback arcade machine, the $1000 outdoor canopies that are larger than most city apartments, and the $600 patio table with a built-in fireplace. Everyone needs these things. And let's not overlook the $7 18" pizzas that have to be sliced into fourths just to get in the freezer. And $10 trays of whole salmon. It's like having Thanksgiving once a month.
Speaking of tourists going to Costco, my relatives in Canada, Asia, and Europe LOVE going to Costco when they visit and always bring a ton of stuff home. And one time, my friend had a foreign exchange student visiting from South Africa, and when he asked him what was the first thing he wanted to see in the States, he said that the foreign exchange student looked him in the eye and said, "Take me to Costco" in totally seriousness.
True story.
Does it make you jealous that I only live a 5 minute drive away from the Richmond Costco?