Boxes and Bubble Wrap

Next time I move, I'm going to hire the employees from Costco to pack up our belongings. I have never seen more carefully packed boxes; shampoo wrapped in plastic; olive oil in bubble wrap; every space in the box taken - if not with our purchases, then with cardboard.

Let me back up to Saturday. Husband-san and I made a pilgrimage to the Tokyo Costco. We decided we were tired of shopping almost every day for the staples and having to lug home heavy things on a regular basis. The trip required three different trains, which we made with no trouble at all. The trouble came when we got to the Tamasakei station and got off the train. Where exactly was the Costco? There was not a sign to be seen, so we asked the train guy behind the window and he said "go to the light". That sounded straightforward until we got to the light - there was no Costco. We had a choice - right or left, so we went left to what looked like a shopping center. I went up to the guy directing traffic and said "Costco?" He repeated "Costeko??" I motioned "big store" and he started pointing and telling us with great authority and pride at his ability to speak English the stores that were in each direction. He pointed to his left "Food", to his right "Books" and in back of him "Baby" (it should be so easy!!). We said thank you, realizing Costco was not yet in his vocabulary and headed towards the intersection ahead. We looked and saw several stores, none of which was a Costco. We saw a family and I went up and said "sumimasen" which means excuse me. The man said "yes?". I said, a little surprised, "you speak English?" He said "yes". Yes!!! I asked about the Costco and he pointed back in the direction we came from and said "it's about 500 meters". His wife spoke up. "No, it's more than that, more like 750 meters". They started arguing and we said thanks and quickly left, feeling just a little sorry that we were the cause of disharmony between a husband and wife, but sort of relieved that even Japanese couples snip at each other every once in awhile.

About ten minutes later we saw the familiar red letters and smiled. As a line of cars were pulling into the garage, we made our way to the registration counter and got our membership cards – complete with ugly pictures. I am talking grainy, black and white, never would have even dated; forget about marrying you, if we saw these pictures ugly. We grabbed a cart and made it a little ways into the store when Husband-san stopped, his eyes glazed over - flat panel televisions!!!!

Two and a half hours and two carts full of stuff (not the flat panel TV) later, we pushed and pulled our way over to the delivery area where we were told our things would arrive on Monday before noon. We headed back to the train, perishables in hand, satisfied we had made it through a weekend day at Costco. Husband-san, who normally sneers at even the hint of a shopping excursion, was particularly proud. So much so that Sunday, we ventured out again to BIC Camera, 7 floors of everything electronic and houseware oriented where he tried out his Japanese. "Hai" he would reply when one of the salespeople would say something he agreed with (Hai means yes). And the salespeople were thrilled to have a gaijin speak even a word of Japanese. This time, we carried our purchases out to the nearest cab, where again Husband-san impressed the cabdriver with his expert use of the word "hai". Jed was also impressive as he actually knew the word for 16, which is part of our address.

About 10am on Monday the bell rang and sure enough, the delivery man from Costco was at our door, bringing all of our carefully wrapped soap, olive oil, soy sauce - not to mention a barbeque grill for the balcony!! I ran out and got what I hoped was lighter fluid and we ended up having our very first grilled meal, complete with rice made in our very own rice cooker -delish!!!!.