Through the tears that I have cried...
Mr. Jones and me, tell each other fairytales...

So long, farewell, auf wedersehen, goodbye.

... to our money, that is.

Whoever said wholesale clubs are a good thing?

In concept, they are great.  Find a bunch of stuff that people use on a regular basis and offer it in bulk amounts at a slightly reduced overall price.  When examined on a per-unit basis, yeah, you definitely save money.

But that certainly doesn't lessen the blow when your total is rung up at the register.

MiscsamsclubI swear you always go to these clubs -- such as Sam's Club and Costco -- with an agenda.  Katie's and my agenda today was to get me some deodorant and also get some more laundry detergent.

Did we walk out with what we hoped for?  Not exactly.

We found some great stuff in there that we never intended to shop for in the first place.  That's what kills you in any store in which you might shop.  I call it "Shopper's Doubt."  You walk in thinking you only need a few specific items, but then you see something else and you start to question whether you need it or not. 

Hmmm... do I have enough dryer sheets, kitty litter, Tootsie Rolls, printer cartridges, Razr Scooters, nosehair clippers, etc., to get me through life until my next visit? 

Well, better safe than sorry.

And you load up.

And they love you for it.

As if bulk pricing weren't enough, those evil wholesaling bastards then hook you with samples.  Oh, the Saturday samples.  * drools *

Today, we picked up a few more items than we probably should have.  Yes, we did get our laundry detergent.  But, we also got dishwasher detergent, bottled water, bar soap, canned corn, salsa, and more.

Oh yeah, we did not get my deodorant.  We didn't exactly forget.  But they wrap their bulk packages in so much cellophane that I couldn't smell what they had in stock to see if I liked it or not.  Actually, it's more a case of Katie couldn't smell it to see if she liked it or not (she has a thing for my deodorant; me, I just pray it keeps me from sweating).

I'll talk at y'all later... I've got a 1.75-liter megabottle of Jose Cuervo leering at me and I swear I can hear it taunting "yo gringo... soy tu amigo Especial.  Ven a papi."

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