Our correspondent, Derek Pell, left for Costco at 10:14 a.m. Saturday with a list of three items. He returned at 2:51 p.m. with 41 items, a sunburn, and the thousand-yard stare of a man who has seen Row 94.
Survivor ran for 40-plus seasons, and not one contestant ever had to find a parking spot within a quarter mile of the entrance at 11 a.m. on a weekend. Derek did it on his first day.
The expedition began with optimism, which experts now agree was his first mistake. He circled the lot for 22 minutes behind a minivan that was also circling, a slow-speed chase that had all the tension of a reality-show finale and none of the prize money.
At minute 23, he spotted an open space. It contained a shopping cart. At minute 24, he spotted another open space. It contained a compact car parked at an angle that can only be described as a personal statement.
He finally landed in Row 94, a region of the lot so remote it has its own weather system. "I could see the store," Derek later reported. "It was small. It was shimmering. I think it was a mirage."
The walk in took 11 minutes. He passed a family loading a 48-pack of paper towels into a sedan, a man arguing with a flatbed cart that would only turn left, and a woman returning a cart to the corral, a sight so rare our photo desk has asked us to stop calling it a myth.
Inside, the plan was simple: milk, eggs, batteries. The plan lasted six feet. That is where the free samples begin, and where the human spirit goes to be tested by a tiny paper cup of orange chicken.
By the time he reached the dairy wall, his cart held a kayak, a rotisserie chicken, a 5-pound tub of hummus, and a 72-count box of granola bars for a household of one. The batteries were never found. Search parties have been told not to bother.
Then came the checkout, where Derek learned the true meaning of reality TV: watching a stranger's $612 receipt print for four straight minutes while you hold a kayak.
The receipt checker at the exit drew a single line across his receipt with a highlighter, the most anticlimactic finale since every season of The Bachelor. Nobody cried. Nobody got a rose. He got a $1.50 hot dog, which, frankly, is a better deal.
The return trip to Row 94 required supplies. He rationed the hot dog. He used the kayak as a windbreak. At one point he followed a seagull, reasoning that it, too, was looking for a car.
He found his vehicle at 2:44 p.m., then spent seven more minutes discovering that a kayak does not fit in a hatchback, which is a lesson the brochure for adulthood really should cover.
Asked if he would go back, Derek nodded slowly. "Next Saturday," he said. "We're out of milk."
He never got the milk. The milk, like Row 94, is still out there.
This article is satire. The Demorat is a parody news site; real facts are drawn from the linked sources, and jokes, invented scenes, and fictional characters are not real.
