Devil or Angel?

Today’s deliberation is inspired by Costco, purveyor of discount milk, fruit genetically engineered to perfection, and most of the clothing in my home. I have sat many a midmorning at the Costco food court, sipping my refillable 59-cent 20 oz. Diet Coke watching the parade of carts. Sometimes I scoff at the line of drones wandering the temple of consumerism, until I think, Ooh! Could I splurge on one of those gorgeous orchids?

And so a tribute to Costco the Conundrum.

Costco, My BFF:

· Extra wide parking spaces and two-seater carts

· Employees with a strong collective sense of customer service and personal hygiene

· Dunford Donuts *

· The flowers—cheap enough that Wade often brings them home, abundant enough that walking through them this morning I felt like Eliza Doolittle

* see also Costco, The Devil

Costco, The Devil:

· Dunford Donuts

· Annual rebate check sent attached to annual renewal notice, often the amounts are the same

· The tower of chocolate delights in December that displays gym memberships in January (this is not nearly as cruel as the kitschy lingerie displays Wal-Mart now has up in place of last month’s marshmallow snowmen)

· Because I remember I need toothpaste while I’m there, what could cost $1.97 sets me back $19.97

Is Costco a merciless mercantile machine that singlehandedly creates and fulfills my desires, or is it just offering a helping hand as I navigate the inevitable spending of a middle-class American family?

Whichever it is, I’m sure to end up there again soon. But I’ll be armed with a force more powerful than the world’s collective marketing genius—my agency. And a cheap soda.