In M’s “Dos and Don’ts” list, one of the bullets read: “Do not go to Costco on weekends.” We met M just a few weeks after we arrived in Taipei. She is American who has been living here for a while. Getting advice from her was a part of our cultural training.
Time and time again, we regretted that we didn’t listen to her. We
tested morning hours, lunch time, and during the customary after-lunch nap time, no difference. We stayed away. Finally, after holding out for months, we went at 9 p.m., banking on a smaller crowd before closing.
Now, repeat after me, “Don’t go to Costco on weekends. That includes 9 p.m. on Sunday.”
I swear Costco has the highest density of noisy people in Taipei.
I hate to go there not only because of the size of the crowd, but also because the crow is among the rudest I encounter in this mild-tempered city. Nowhere else would you see as many
carts left in selfish spots, people bump into you without an apology, people cut in, and family block the freezer door doing price calculation in their heads without giving way to others waiting.
No, I don’t understand why.
I grunt after each visit. The kids look at me with their innocent eyes.
Don’t worry, children, I will go, I know Cheerios, bagels, and frozen waffles
mean home for you.