Mooo, welcome to Stew Leonard's

Yesterday was a pretty big day for me. Living with my parents means I go grocery shopping with my mom. There is some comedian who talks about how annoying it is when you go to the supermarket, fill up your cart, and then someone moves it, or they bring it in the back and empty it out, then the comedian says something like “you’ve picked out all of your shit there especially for you, and now it's gone.” I’m sure the joke sounds much better when done in a caaraaazy voice and into a microphone; however, that’s not my real problem with the supermarket. But I should come out and say that I don’t go to any supermarket I go to fucking Costco and then me and my mom, we fucking go to Stew Leonard's right after because we want discount things in bulk and we also want discount things that seem like they might come from a nice grocery store but are also in bulk .

Our first stop is Costco and here’s why I sometimes hate it: I hate all of the other people there. It’s not how special my cart is, it’s that other people are there, and they bump up against me with their supersized box of pancake mix, jumbo butter, ten million Hershey bars, diet coke, and fat ass, and sometimes they look in my cart. The other day these two short fat women, pushing a cart together like umpaloompas carting pounds of sugar, pass by me and one just looks in my cart, looks in MY fucking cart. THIS IS MY CART! What the fuck were they doing looking at my stuff? Yes, I have a set of fifteen toothbrushes, but so what? Why do you care? Maybe I sleep with so many people that I have to give them all toothbrushes and then when they leave in the morning they get to take it with them like a party favor, so OBVIOUSLY you might conclude that I run out very quickly.

So I’m pushing around this cart, which is proportional to all the crap we’re buying—so, very large, and people are looking in my cart, and it’s terrible. But then we go to Stew Leonard’s. Here’s a word of advice: never go to there if you’re high. While I doubt anyone ever says, “Yo! Let’s get really, really high and go to Stew’s (because that’s probably what you call it if you’re in the in crowd)” do not be tempted. I wasn’t high and I was still incredibly freaked out. When we first get there we pass through this “fun zone” area where they are selling apples and cider, and shit like that, and there are all these people that stop and look like “Oooh what is going on here? Do you want to stop? Should we stop? No. Let’s do it. Ok let’s stop.” Ok, whatever, but while you and your middle aged husband are deciding your own adventure I’m wondering if I’m ever going to get in because I see they are giving out free samples of donuts and I really deserve one.

After passing through this very stressful entrance, we make it inside, and there are decorations everywhere. It’s not just your typical Halloween decorations it's like a fucking freak show. There are these little dolls that hang from the ceiling and flip around this fake trapeze things and they are next to a sign that says, “We flip for a customers.” Do not flip for me, I do not want anyone to flip for me—especially a little Satan doll with crazy eyes. As we walk through the shop, which is like a maze by the way and we are about to get killed by a minotaur any second and, you are not going to fucking believe this, a huge cow comes out of the fucking walls, and we have no string, and it follows right behind my mother: this cow costumed fuck. It was terrible. That’s what I mean when I said if you were high you would not be happy because you’d be trapped eating samples and then this huge cow would come up and would be like, “Moooooo, welcome to Stew Leonard’s.”