MY TURN: Losing my civility at Costco

If you are like me, you have a Costco game strategy. Bi-monthly list. “Stock-up your shelves” household/ food items organized. Check! The parking lot traversed. Crowded aisles navigated. The checkout line conquered. Soon my entire shopping cart will be loaded into my car. Another successful trip to Costco accomplished. Yay!

However, recently, I didn’t feel the same satisfaction. I knew why. Despite not wanting to think about a particular Costco venture; I couldn’t.

It began normally. “Get out quickly!” Because I had places to go. Everyone feels like that in Costco. Right? Right. Unfortunately, that attitude proved detrimental to my civility. Later, I tried to think, “Nothing’s wrong.” Yet, my conscience kept questioning me.

(Spoiler alert. Not my finest moments.)

First, I cut in front of a senior in a wheelchair to grab the last chocolate almond cluster sample. My husband looked at me strangely. “That’s weird,” I thought to myself. It wasn’t my fault customers are aggressive.” My behavior got worse.

Next tactile maneuver was to bypass a mom with a baby in her cart and two-grade-schoolers. Slyly, I slipped in to snatch granola bar samples. A few onlookers were scrutinizing me. “Wake up everyone! Chop! Chop! Don’t just stand around and stare,” I wanted to tell them. My husband looked at me, again. “What?” I asked.

Standing in a busy aisle, I couldn’t believe my eyes. A golden light was shining down upon an adjacent sample cart. I raced over to my favorite Costco item: “Raspberry Chipotle Sauce!”

Crunchy sesame-seed crackers topped with herbed cream cheese and Raspberry Chipotle Sauce mesmerized me. I crammed a sample into my mouth. Then, I told the product demonstrator about my favorite snack: appetizers with melted Swiss cheese, and toasted buttery walnuts on rosemary flatbread, brushed with olive oil.

Suddenly, someone tapped me on the shoulder. Slightly annoyed, I looked behind me. “What could this guy possibly want? Doesn’t he see I’m busy? “Yes,” I said tersely, can I help you?”

“You, ah, you have something hanging out of the back of your pants,” the brave man whispered. He looked embarrassed. I looked closer at him.

No! He attended my church on Saturday nights. Vaguely, I calculated usually attending the Sunday morning service. Rarely, the Saturday p.m. Surely, he didn’t recognize me.

Next, I did what anyone who is not thinking would do. I pretended to ignore him. He didn’t give up. 

“Listen, lady you have something white hanging over the waist band in back of your pants,” he leaned in to tell me. My face felt hot. Stiffly, I put two bottles of the sauce into my cart and headed to the restroom.

The mirror showed a white flag of glory. A long trail of toilet paper cascaded down to the floor. I was mortified. Slinking, into a stall, I asked, myself, “Tonie, what are you doing today?” Good question. I remembered the proverb, “Pride goes before the fall.” Such humiliation had definitely just happened. I tried to rationalize my selfish actions. But shoving my way through Costco meant no excuses.

“I’m not that person,” I thought. True in theory. Why did I act so awful to my fellow shoppers? Because, forgotten were the principles of civility — which belongs everywhere.

Next time, a new plan. Random acts of kindness. A smile for fellow shoppers. Granting the right of way to others. This epiphany meant being cordial. No more regrets.

Epilogue, one month later: On a subsequent trip to Costco, two things happened simultaneously. First, Costco discontinued Raspberry Chipotle Sauce. Very sad! But cathartic, too. I realized I had also canceled my past public behavior. Finding no more special sauce was a good reminder. You don’t go to Costco just for yourself. My new goal of “civility: being courteous and gracious,” was more congenial. My husband noticed.

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Tonie Koonce is a Coeur d'Alene resident.