When we lived in the heart of Minneapolis, I had a membership at Costco. I’d drive a long way, spent more than I should’ve on things I normally wouldn’t buy, bought my prescriptions, had photos developed, got ink for my printer, could buy a car if I wanted to and thought it was the ideal place to save money. My yearly membership fee reminded me of that.
When we moved to small town, Minnesota I discovered there was a Costco only two miles from our house. I could go there for a free lunch if I wanted by tasting all the samples. That first year I managed to stock up on things that I still have three years later. Since we downsized I no longer have room for all the accumulated “good” deals, so I reluctantly failed to renew my membership. It’s been a couple years now and I feel I’m finally cured of wholesale shopping mania. It can become an addiction of sorts.
I still have two large jars of coconut oil, just finished off the final can of a giant, economy sized Pam and really miss going through the store and testing all the nifty food choices. I’m over it though – really.
When you retire there isn’t a huge need for a lot of anything, except perhaps toilet paper. First you’re purchasing a membership, which puts a strain on your fixed income. You don’t need as much as you once did since you rarely entertain. Two elderly people can only consume so much fruit in a week. The cheesecake which serves at least 40 people would instantly go to my hips, not to mention the gigantic muffins and oversized pies. Did I mention the baked gods were amazing?
I recently watched an episode of “The Golden Girls,” where the matriarch, Sophia bought a warehouse membership and went berserk buying cases of items she wouldn’t be able to use in two lifetimes. The episode ended with her making dinner one night. It was a sardine casserole covered with crunched up oatmeal cookies – a lot of it.
I have a theory that our society is headed for cocooning in the future. We’re almost there in fact. We work at home. We shop and order meals to have them delivered to us. Our prescriptions can be mailed to us. If you have a warehouse shopping card, you only have to shop once every three years. You can get an education online as well as go to church. You can even study the Bible on your phone – there’s an app for that. You won’t have to interact with anyone face to face except for those who deliver things to you. Praise God I won’t live to see that day.
This is so sadly true and hilarious at the same time
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We are retired and we have an executive membership. You pay twice as much, but you get a 2% money back on each purchase. In the past, we’ve cleared our membership fee just in medication costs alone, but as my wife eliminates one expensive one, including donut wholes, we may soon get to the point of having to pay for our membership. When we have a year without new tires for the car, a new television or computer, then the executive membership may be too much. We may still be regular members because we like the pharmacy people.
But your idea of never leaving the house is my nirvana. It would drive my wife insane.
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I pray our society doesn’t cocoon like you described, but we do seem to be heading that way. 😦
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I totally agree. We’re missing so much by isolating ourselves, especially as we grow older.
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Your humor about buying too much is a great way to end my day. I have managed to stay away from Costco as well. I am sure the temptations to buy too much could overwhelm me.
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Thanks my friend. We downsized about three years ago and simply don’t have the room anymore .
💕
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