Costco, Minus 20 Points!

I literally just walked in the door, with a box o' meat under my arm.

And I'm still mad/perved/peeved/pissed/irritated/wtf'd.

Umm, ya, Costco, just a couple questions. But let's start at the top.

1.) Why do you not have someone at the register to box my things?

If asked, "would you like boxes?"...yes, I'd like boxes, I'd like my things put in those boxes, I'd like my things put in those boxes by someone on your payroll. I got off work early (because I clocked in at 6:58am and my boss let me go for the rest of today), therefore I am no longer responsible for things which occur outside my workplace.

You, however, are on the clock. This is your job. Maybe even your second job. You get paid to 'boop' things. Did they not cover 'putting things in the box for the bitchy redhead' in class? (And a statement, I wasn't bitchy to anyone's face...just gave glares after the fact - just to clarify - I'm still a Saint to the outside world).

I'm curious whether these Booger Eating Morons (credit for that phrase goes to the Sheriff) are just retarded, lazy, both, or in this neck of the woods...is boxing things Costco-style (you have a style for a reason!) just not in their job description.

I go to Costco for 2 things. Okay, 3. Sometimes 4. First off, the samples. Dur. Secondly, cheap prices on those big @$$ boxes of Cheerios. Third, "a slice of Costco pizza a day keeps the Dr. away" (but in all honesty, once a month when I don't feel like cooking lunch/dinner...the deliciousness calls). And last but not least, my dad and I would forage there when bored. Not so hard to believe, right?

So until I find the wine opener, or maybe I'll settle for a cold beer since it's a little warm outside, the perturbness will have to linger until my liver can take appropriate actions.

Ugh.

And now I've forgotten my second question.

But I was able to procure (is that right?) a large filet of Wild Alaskan Salmon. Yay.