Anxiety takes on new forms when you become a certain age. It’s no longer about exams and love interests and paying the rent. Now it’s about the parking lot at Costco. It’s worse than Wawa, and that’s saying something. Seriously, today we have to go to Costco and the first thing I thought of – as my stomach clenched like Bee’s leg in Shuggie’s mouth – was riding shotgun to Todd’s parking efforts at you-pick-the-location-Costco.

This may possibly have something to do with past trauma. When I was young, my mom and I would go shopping in King of Prussia. Not the present-day KOP – the 1980s KOP. For those unfamiliar, there are  were two malls separated by a large parking lot. The two malls back then were affectionately referred to as the Poor Man’s Mall and the Rich Man’s Mall.

The Poor Man’s Mall (known as The Plaza) was the older structure, with lots of older stores (many of which no longer exist) and a food court. The Rich Man’s Mall (known as The Court) was new and held upscale stores like Bloomingdale’s and Macy’s. We often shopped at Macy’s. The parking lot that stood between the two malls was where we parked, as it was one point of entry for Macy’s. (The present mall complex is monstrous and can no longer be distinguished by “rich” or “poor” and is surrounded by multiple garages.)

My mom who, mind you, at the time was all of 30-something, would drive around looking for the closest parking spot. All I wanted to do was park and get inside. But NO. This woman had to drive around and around and around waiting for the perfect spot. Anyone who has ever parked a car knows that if you see one opening up, you have to throw on your turn signal before someone else sees it. This alone produces anxiety for me. Until I’m in that spot and the engine is off, I’m sweating anxiety bullets.

One Saturday afternoon circa 1985, she was coming up the one aisle facing the store and spotted a car backing out just three spaces from the front. She threw on her turn signal. Another car was coming around the corner and spotted it too and threw on their turn signal. Guess who won? The loser threw some profanity mom’s way and I was slumped down in the passenger seat wishing to be swallowed up and spit out inside the Junior’s Department post-haste. We were gifted with a hefty hocker on the driver’s side window when we returned to the car. And now, as I’m writing this, I’m realizing that people have always sucked. Maybe worse today, but there were plenty of uncivilized folks among us.

Anyway, back to Costco. We are going today. I mean, we don’t have to, but there are certain dog treats we buy there and Shuggie has reminded us every night that we are out of one of them. And already I’m anticipating the anxiety that comes with the parking lot. Todd is in the kitchen on the computer and said something and all I heard is “something-something-big-dicks” and I was momentarily distracted from this post. WHAT?

“Lionel Ritchie had some really big hits.” 

And now he’s telling me with all seriousness, as I’m laughing maniacally, that I really need to get my hearing checked. Maybe he’s right. I returned to writing and a burst of Stuck on You from the kitchen was so loud I lost my train of thought.

Now he’s on the couch and broke the silence – and again my concentration – with, why do birds suddenly appear, every time you are near… and, I quit. It bears mentioning that after I poured my first cup of coffee he announced that he was going to go sit on the couch and play with his phone because he has nothing to do in this life.

Do you have to, do you have to let it linger???? I just stopped to rub my eyes with my palms.

Anyhoo, going to Costco. Neph wants to meet us there and now I have anxiety about THAT. Because last night on the phone it sounded like a totally reasonable thing because Vodka. This morning, …. Wake me up, when September ends…. I’m wondering about the logistics of meeting someone AT COSTCO who doesn’t have a membership who is coming from the opposite direction and who also isn’t the most reliable when it comes to time. More anxiety.

Not to mention the clusterfuck of oversized shopping carts and not one person with any sense of direction. And that’s inside the store. Can’t blame people, really. It is a bit dazzling, what with the clothing and the giant snacks and housewares and bakery items and meat and fish and cheeses and frozen foods and … the ssssssamplesssss.

I can’t tell you why….

It has taken nearly a whole pot of coffee and several genres of music to get this far and I think I’ll leave it here.

*****

So we went. There’s also a bit of negotiation that goes into which Costco we actually go to, as we are lucky enough to live close enough to two. Three if you count the one about 40 minutes north of us in PA. However, that one is in an area affluent enough to have women who would rather ram their empty cart up over the steep grass median next to their Ford Expedition than walk it to a cart return. Seriously watched a woman struggling to do this very thing and it left me wondering why that was less effort for her than walking it a few yards away on a flat surface. But that’s okay, Karen, you do you.

Of the other two: one is near a mall and so the parking lot is something short of suicidal whether by car or on foot. We went there last time in preparation for our cookout last month and that’s where I remembered that you have to choose your battles.

It always starts the same, with me begginggently asking Todd if we can park over there (*waves hands in the general direction of a location roughly a half mile from the store*). Then I remind him that I would really like to shop more often so that our bill isn’t always $400, which segues into a reminder that I don’t want to spend that much on this day. Fifteen minutes later he’s standing next to the giant crate of watermelons asking, should we get a watermelon?

No, I said, you just cut up a watermelon and it’s in the fridge and THERE’S NO ROOM IN THE FRIDGE. “Really?” He says, “but they’re $6.99.” THERE’S NO ROOM IN THE FRIDGE. “We can put it in the downstairs fridge.” There’s no room in that one either! “Fine,” he says. Three minutes later… fine, just get one. “I thought you said-“ No, just get one. Whatever. And that’s how we had a fight over a $7 watermelon.

Today we went to the other Costco because – for some mysterious reason – their much smaller parking lot is much less of a clusterfuck than the other one. It was crowded and it was also lunchtime, so all the sample carts were out and people were running people over with their shopping carts for chicken tacos, chocolate chip cookies, and pecorino cheese. Spoiler: the cheese was excellent, check-out wasn’t a nightmare, and we didn’t buy a watermelon.

Neph didn’t meet us there because apparently I misunderstood that he had planned to come here and ride with us, and couldn’t make it here in time. So it’s several hours later and he’s not here or there.

Random miscellaneous tidbits:

Did you know that PAM cooking spray is an acronym for “Product of Arthur Meyerhoff?”

Out of the mouths… “I have pink eye! IN BOTH EYES!!”  ”Look at my baby sister – isn’t she beautiful?”   “Bye! See you in seven years!” (to the driving simulator)

Random parental concerns: “headbutting is an ongoing problem.”

A cow produces 3.5 gallons of urine and 65 pounds of manure daily.

Grover from Sesame Street first appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show on Christmas Eve in 1967, with greenish-brown fur. The Grover we know and love debuted in his blue fur and on the show in 1970.