Costco ninja.

Yesterday my dear mother asked me if i would be so kind as to join her in her shopping escapades at Costco. I, being the star that i am, of course, agreed. (ulterior motive: samples) Little did i know that at the end of that wholesale extravaganza i would be saved by the Costco ninja.

By the time we had picked out sunday dinner fixings, honey crisp apples (look into it), and enough candy to satisfy a small army of trick-or-treaters, our cart was becoming precariously full and it was all i could do to keep the Swiffer dry cloths and two and a half pounds of beef from toppling to the cement below. Having successfully reached the front of the store it was only another 10 feet to the shortest line at the checkout. As i made my way over with our heavily burdened silver buffalo, my mom hurried ahead to save us a spot in line. As i looked to my right to see the path of least resistance for my boatfull of bulk-priced goods, it happened.

There was the sound of sliding shrink wrap

i looked to my cart to survey the damage

suddenly, a flash of light, i jumped

when i opened my eyes i saw two hands firmly grasped around a variety pack of candy bars. i looked up to see who the chocolate's savior was and there he stood: Kevin, the Costco Ninja.
The small Asian shift manager slid the box back into place, smiled and disappeared almost as fast as a child eyeing the sample table.

Now don't all of you run out to Costco in search of the blue-vested wonder. The Costco Ninja is far too stealthy to show himself when circumstances are such that the aid of his less speedy, savvy, and stealthy colleagues will suffice. But the next time you find yourself with a flat of stewed tomatoes cascading off your cart and into oblivion, have no fear the Costco Ninja will be near.




Cheerio.