Saturday, July 22, 2006

Another kind of BJ

I think my husband is having an affair. With all of the cashiers at our membership warehouse. He cannot seem to bring himself to stay away from BJs.

I like BJs. Good prices, good selection. The problem with buying too much there, however, is that our refrigerator is exactly the same size every day. This doesn't seem to deter my husband from stopping by BJs weekly. Membership warehouses, by their very nature, are not the types of places which one should visit weekly. Yet we do. He even goes there when we run out of milk, passing a 7/11, Giant, Safeway, another 7/11, and then getting on an actual highway. For milk.

You can see why I believe there must be something else. It's more than clear that when hubby goes to BJs, they give out something more than free samples. I can't bring myself to believe that he is simply attracted by the ability to buy a case of pork and beans for seven dollars (we have like, fourteen cans left. Please come over).

The irony of the name of our particular membership warehouse does not escape me. We don't belong to Costco or Sam's. We belong to BJs. Could there be something subliminal happening there? Next time we go together, should I closely watch his face for signs of, um, satisfaction?

He went again yesterday. He had my car; I asked him to collect me from work early, about 4:30, because I was tired and moody. At 4:55 I called him.

Me: Where are you?
Him: I can be there in twenty minutes.
Me: Where are you?
Him: (I swear he was hesistant): BJs.
Me: Buying what?
Him: We needed milk.
Me: We live across the street from a Giant supermarket.
Him: This was on the way to get you.
Me: Which you said you would do at 4:30?
Him: Did I? I must have misunderstood.

No. He did not misunderstand. He forgot about me. My husband forgot about me and instead, went to BJs to buy milk. My husband. Forgot about his wife. Because of a grocery superstore. And of course he did not just buy milk. He'd even brought along the cooler so nothing would get warm in the trunk.

I think I may need to wrest control of the grocery shopping away from him. Until he gets this BJs thing under control. We're trying to have a baby, after all. I don't want to be in labor and have to call around to find out my husband's in the laundry detergent aisle, getting his jollies.

"We need milk." Riiiiight.

1 comment:

MrGali said...

Can't. Stop. Laughing. Perfect thing to read on a monday morning... :)