When I was in my early teens, I liked to shop at Costco with my mother. It ended on the occasion she directed me to fetch a box of panty liners. I didn’t notice the bottom of the box was open so I was completely surprised when all 500 fanned out on the floor in a sea of Rorshach that I’m pretty sure spelled “shame.”
Instead of projecting my embarrassment and anger like a normal teenager on my mother, I decided I hated Costco and mass consumption. It took needing to feed a family on a budget before I made my peace with Costco.
I still don’t love shopping there, but I have adopted a few tips that make getting in and out a little easier.