Club of doom
We just got back from another fun trip to BJs Wholesale Club. Dude, could it be any less of a club? I hate each and every person who shops at the Auburn store, and I know it's mutual. People at BJs piss me off royally with their sudden stops to exclaim over jumbo-sized jars of pickled eggs and their willingness to shove their carts directly into my jumbo-sized ass. The last time that happened, someone almost got knocked in the head with a jumbo-sized jar of salsa. It took me a jumbo-sized amount of self-control not to get violent in the condiments aisle. They should give members a complimentary jumbo-sized packet of blood pressure medication for the drive home.
posted by Clementine at 5:06 PM
3 Comments:
BJ's blows.
Okay, I guess it just shows where my mind is, but who names a place BJs and expects to be taken seriously? I bet there's a lot of men who shop there - it's probably a subconscious thing.
I can't even address the horror of this. Is it worth the misery? I also have much hatred for fellow shoppers in many places but I can imagine that BJ's would be particularly bad.
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