In Da Club

There are all kinds of addictions. I believe we all have at least one addiction and the only thing that separates us is the fact that some addictions are more socially or morally acceptable than others. I've watched enough episodes of the A&E show Intervention to see the similarities (and glaring distinctions) between some of the more "popular" compulsions. You know, the ones that require months at rehab, 12 step programs and complete reformation. I'm not too interested in blogging about these, more serious issues today. Nope. Instead, I'm here to make a confession of my own. I, ladies and gents, have a bit of a problem. My name is Mrs. Oz and I am addicted to:

I'm pretty sure if Costco isn't already on the list of "Stuff White People Like" it will be there soon. In my line of work I am well steeped in all things consumer and marketing related so I can usually see through the tricks and trappings of retail. I can sniff a gimmick from a mile away. That being said, I'm a HUGE sucker for Costco. We have one in my hood so Mr. Oz and I probably take a trip there once every few weeks. Today was sample day. Score! The end of each aisle held some tasty treat for us to try. Waffle fries w/ white cheddar, bacon spreadin goodness . . . Wolfgang Puck pizza . . . heat and eat meatballs . . . yogurt . . . fresh grilled salmon. Hell yeah. We practically had our lunch consumed by the end of our visit. While the product demos are exciting and oh so yummy, they are really not the reason for my addiction. I love the treasure hunt adventure of finding something new AND getting a sweet deal. Those folks at Costco are mighty smart. They know how to keep it fresh by mixing up the usual favorites with brand new gadgets, sauces, clothes, books and the like. Damn I love Costco. Lest you think this is all about the food. Here's my latest purchase -- a beautiful and abundant pot of firey orange mums for the front patio. How Fall-tastic and Autumn-riffic is this? OK, OK. I also bought 2 bags of Pirate's Booty, some of those Wolfgang Puck pizzas and a pile of strawberries, blueberries and avocados. What? I don't think I need an intervention from discount, warehouse shopping . . . do you? If I had to stop, I'm sure I could do it. But, why would I want to or need to?