Big box shopping club store trip brings out doomsday prepper
Suddenly, I feel like a doomsday prepper. You know, one of those rugged-looking guys hunkering down with enough rations to get through the next war and electric grid interruption.
Barb and I just joined one of the big box shopping club stores in Nashua. Actually, we were gifted with a free membership and with that, began hoarding consumables in quantities only restaurants consider. Below is a list from our first foray into volume buying. And who selected each product:
BOTH: 10-pack of Kleenex tissues. 1,700 tissues in all. At about 50 two-ply tissues per common cold, Barb and I can catch about 35 colds before reloading.
BARB: A dozen yellow, fresh cut tulips. Totally an impulse buy. At least our fallout shelter will look and smell pretty.
MIKE: Two bottles of Santa Margherita pinot grigio. Great price for my favorite wine. Pairs nicely with ready-to-eat meals, or MREs. You know … freeze-dried, chipped tuna on toast, powdered waffles and split pea soup. We’ll be living large in the rabbit hole.
BOTH: Two-pound box of pumpkin seed and flax granola. Tastier than Metamucil and doubles as kitty litter in a pinch. Trouble is, we don’t own cats.
BARB: A case of 24 LaCroix sparkling waters. Like the tulips, pretty much unnecessary. Frankly, I’d rather drink the rainwater I will harvest from the blue tarp that once covered my ’97 Monte Carlo.
BARB: Three 23-ounce bottles of Olay shea butter body wash. Hmmm. Now, I need to MacGyver a shower from the rainwater to justify this purchase. Barb can shower while I look and smell like Rambo, decked out in several rounds of ammunition wrapped around my torso.
BARB: 1.32-gallons of distilled white vinegar. GALLONS! This purchase really puzzled me. I have never bought 11 total pounds of vinegar in my life, and now I have a massive vinegar stockpile in hopes that this commodity becomes the next Bitcoin. If it does, I will be set for life. Barb told me she wanted to clean our outside windows with vinegar. A good thought. I then reminded her that we don’t live in the John Hancock tower, and a 6-ounce bottle would have done the job. On top of that, once we go underground, there will be no windows to clean. Guess I need to pull out our pre-nup that states, “…and husband does not do windows.”
With a couple other items our bill came to $103.31. For vinegar and edible kitty litter. As customers exit the store, they have to show their receipt to a hulk of a man who gives you the OK to leave. I asked him, “Is 103-dollars the lowest receipt you’ve ever seen?”
“Nope. Sometimes a guy will run in just for a jug of milk,” he replied. I’m thinking, doesn’t this store sell cows since everything else is packaged in over-the-top quantities? The shopping carriages they give you could easily accommodate a bovine.
So, who wants to help me dig a big hole for a glass of pinot grigio?