I'm Even More Pathetic Than You Are (Cigar Smoke 5-19-11)

I know many of you see me as a pathetic excuse for a columnist, and as a pathetic excuse for a human being, and incredibly, as a pathetic excuse for a lanky person. And yes, many years ago, an artist did ask me to pose for a painting he was going to call “Pathetic Guy.” And I asked him if I had to be nude, and he said, “You’re pathetic.”

I don’t have time to go into all the reasons why I possibly may be pathetic. Let me just give you the most recent one. I have become a Costco addict. No, no, there’s nothing wrong with Costco. They’re a great store. Great prices. Efficient. All that. And I don’t feel as if I am an addict because I go there a lot.

I am getting ahead of myself a little here. Before I reveal the true depths of my patheticism, I do have to admit that I love shopping at Costco. The last time I was there, I bought a year’s supply of soap. Yup, I got a giant package of 36 bars of Irish Spring. I calculated that I should be relatively clean through August 2014. (And that’s taking into consideration that I will use some of the bars as stocking stuffers.)

And while I was there, of course, I just had to get the 48-unit box of Five-Hour Energy Bottles. I figure I can now drive nonstop across the country four times without ever having to stop at a motel. I’m just going to slug that stuff down and floor it, baby. My eyelids may never close again. I’m getting bug-eyed hyper just thinking about all that Five-Hour fuel pumping through me. I want to take an exam or something. I want to watch a Three Stooges movie marathon. I want to sell my bed. That Berry flavor rocks.

Another time I was there I got an industrial-size package of tubes of toothpaste that had flaws in the tubes. Now every time I brush my teeth, I squeeze the tube and the toothpaste oozes out of one of the sides of the tube, and usually it gets all over my fingers, but that is the price I have to pay for being such a savvy shopper and all-around wonderful person.

No, I am not to the pathetic part yet. A few months ago I was in Costco and I needed two AAA batteries. So they were just happening to have this sale on this special shipment of batteries that they just got in, so yes, I bought $114 worth of batteries. Hey, I couldn’t pass that up. And yes, I did need a truss and a handcart to get the batteries up to the counter. And yes, I now annoy strangers by walking up to them and asking them if they need a battery for their flashlight. Many of them don’t even have flashlights.

I’m retired. I have the time.

As you can see, the above examples have all been positive examples of shopping at Costco. But, because I am what? And because I compare this quality to what unit of time? Because I am as honest as the day is long, I have to tell you about a couple of failed Costco adventures.

First, I do not have the courage to buy something from their meat and fish counter. I was having a barbeque last summer and I walked up to the butcher guy and he suggested a reinforced rack of ribs that looked about the size of a Mini Cooper. I told him I was only having four people over. He said, “Hey, that’s only 14 ribs each.”

And once I just glanced over at the fish section, and I saw these huge crab claws, and I know they were still alive. They were moving and they had broken through the cellophane wrapper, and they were crawling down over the crushed ice. And they were laughing. I still have nightmares.

OK, the pathetic part. I’ll say it fast. I now go to Costco when I don’t know what I am going to buy! I do not need anything. I’m pretty well stocked up on Costco crap. I have unopened packages of stuff I bought last year. But I’m sitting there at the end of the couch, and I say to myself, “Hey Jerk Lips, wanna go buy a large quantity of something? Wanna go get something that we don’t even know what it is yet?” And damned if Jerk Lips doesn’t say, “Sure. Can’t dance.”

So, Jerk Lips and I went the other day to see if we could find something we didn’t need or didn’t even know existed. And hang on to your shorts, Aunt Martha, we found it!

It just called out to us. From the liquor department. Lips and I were just ambling around and there it was. A five-foot tall bottle of Jose Cuervo in the shape of Pancho Villa with a big-ass sombrero on. It was just so cool I could hardly stand it. Five feet of booze. With a hat on.

And only $149!