Costcoooooooo

If you've never been to a CostCo, you don't know what you're missing. If you've never been to the Costco in Alhambra, you haven't been to a real CostCo.

Imagine stepping into the Tower of Babel and hearing 98% of all the languages spoken on Planet Earth. Then imagine you are surrounded by miles of aisles stocked with the usual 5 gallon bottle of Kirkland Vodka (which surprisingly tastes no different than Ketel One), 25 lbs. jugs of mayonnaise and two separate aisles devoted to Kombucha and Kombucha-adjacent beverages and hair care products.

Yesterday I spoke of my father's day gifts and how it was difficult to buy me a present because of my fortunate position to get what I want when I see it. I could have that 3 foot diameter wheel of Sharp Cheddar, another fine Kirkland product, but something else caught my eye.

Standing in the middle of all this conspicuous consumption was a guy named Sam who pitching something that looked like a cross between a Sleep Number Bed and a a pod that Sigourney Weaver strapped herself into to escape the Alien. I'm referring to the first Alien movie, not the 23 sequels and Alien Breakfast Cereal that followed.

While Sam was delivering his pitch to a young Hispanic man, I stealthily crawled into one of the open pods.

For your amusement, Ms. Muse snapped a shot of me while I was entering deep tissue massage nirvana. To wit...

 In hindsight we should have also captured a wider shot to show off the shiny chocolate brown shell, made of the unrecyclable fiberglass....well, whatever they make fiberglass from.

As Sam finished up his well-rehearsed pitch to the young man whose wife was pulling him away so they could score a deal on a bale of disposable diapers, he turned to me. And my hard-to-disguise O-face as the compression sleeves redistributed the blood in my veins and the swirly nubs made tsunami waves up and down my spine.

Make no mistake a 10 minute massage in the PodMaster 9000 is nothing like laying on a table in Antigua or Costa Rica and having an attractive young woman running her silky smooth, generously oiled hands over all my nooks and crannies. But damn that machine was to die for.

And when Sam showed me the 5 digit price tag for this puppy, I almost did.