Buying in bulk nears civic duty status

Some people should not be allowed to conduct commerce with certain businesses without psychological testing or at least a letter of permission from their mother.

Amazon.com is a case in point. I have purchased more than 100 paperback detective novels in the past 18 months and should be placed in a home for my own financial and psychological protection.

Sam’s is just as bad.

Shopping at Shaw’s or Hannaford’s or even Village Variety does not invoke any madness for mass purchasing. At those stores, I can calmly purchase items one at a time and head for the checkout. It is only when I walk into Sam’s high-ceiling warehouse that the madness overtakes me, much like Lon Chaney in the moonlight. Part of the excuse is that the store is 45 miles from the house and I don’t know when I might get back.

Right.

When considering Sam’s, I am oft reminded of the Coneheads on “Saturday Night Live,” when that show was actually funny. The alien family would chant their mantra of “consuming mass quantities” and would try to drink a six-pack of beer all at once while it was still held in its plastic girdle.

When all those pretty products are piled so high at Sam’s, it almost seems like your civic duty to help out by taking home as much of the merchandise as is humanly possible.

Turning a marketing moron loose with a credit card in a store with merchandise piled (literally) to the ceiling is a certain recipe for disaster. Last week I came home with a half-dozen pairs of cotton gloves. Now, I have not had cotton gloves on my hands in the past year and I have no idea why I felt compelled to buy this white six-pack. Good price, though.

On the last trip, I bought three pairs of leather work gloves. I avoid work wherever I find it. I do as little gardening and lawn work as is humanly possible. Why did I need three (Sam’s doesn’t sell one of anything) pairs of gloves? I put one under the front seat of the truck, in case I have to change a tire some day. What a joke. I don’t know where the jack is. I don’t know where the tire is. If I have a flat, I will call AAA.

If I die and come back three more times, I will never run out of Chinet paper plates. It seems like every time I walk into Sam’s, I have to buy more. They are good for the boat, the barbecue, the camping trip. You just can’t have enough. Likewise, I have enough paper napkins to last a few lifetimes. Paper cups? Ziploc sandwich bags? I have a million of them and cannot remember, for the life of me, why.

Perhaps I was considering a career in catering at one time.

When I almost ran out of plastic garbage bags, I felt compelled to buy the Glad Bag box with 150 bags. That is clearly demented.

Comet scouring powder? I must have been trying to corner the international market when I bought a six-pack of that product. I didn’t buy the “normal” size. I had to buy the 25-ounce mammoth container, for all the scouring I do. That must have been a year ago and I haven’t opened the second one yet. Probably never will.

Worcestershire sauce? I employ the magic potion when sauteeing onions and mushrooms, and maybe use a bottle every two years. Why, then, did I buy a twin pack of 30-ounce Lea & Perrins sauce, just because the old bottle was getting low? I will be using that purchase when I am 75, unless one of us turns to dust first.

If it snows for 30 days and 30 nights and I cannot leave the house, I will have enough Delverde Penne Pasta No. 32 to survive. I might even save a few neighbors. I bought an eight-pack. Good price, you know.

Wait! I am down to my last bottle of Barilla spaghetti sauce. I better go to Sam’s. I should get at least six. Maybe some more cotton gloves.

Help!

Send complaints and compliments to Emmet Meara at emmetmeara@msn.com.