If Costco were a religion, I’d be a believer. When I first became a member in the early 90’s, it was called Price Club, then PriceCostco, then eventually Costco. That’s how long we’ve been together. Also, that’s a clue as to how old I am. Seriously though, I am a huge fan of the company for many reasons. They sell quality products that are responsibly sourced, they treat their employees well, and their return policy is incomparable. Really, no return seems to be too absurd for them.
I once bought a vacuum cleaner, and it died after I used it for two years to vacuum up more hair than you ever thought could possibly come from one Labrador Retriever. I could have created a whole second dog with that sweet Lab’s hair. Everybody told me, “It’s Costco…return it!” I was reluctant at first, but when I took it in, they issued me a full refund (two years later!) – no questions asked.
Even bigger than a vacuum, I returned a king size mattress that didn’t live up to its promise of a good night’s sleep. In hindsight, it’s possible the bad sleep was caused more by my toddler and infant at the time than the mattress, but, hey, I couldn’t exactly return the children. Or could I?
I had a friend that once bought an entire living room set, moved six months later, and when the furniture didn’t fit in the new house, returned it for a full refund.
Then there are the infamous stories…the woman who returned an empty bottle of wine because it “gave her a headache” and the lady that returned a frozen fish that was in her freezer for 13 years. And Costco doesn’t bat an eye.
On a recent outing, the return line was exceptionally long and it seemed each customer’s situation was more complicated than the next. I was waiting impatiently, receipt and membership card in hand, ready to go, like the good customer I am.
But these other people were up there with all kinds of problems and stories, going on and on about one thing or another.
One lady was returning a printer and they unpacked the box to make sure everything was there. And the printer cable was missing. So the clerk asks her where the printer cable is and she feigns innocence like, “What? Oh? Really? I didn’t realize. Cable? You see, my husband…..” Blah, blah, blah. When lady, we are all thinking you bought this thing so you could return it and get a free printer cable. Really, now.
And so it went, one long explanation of their return after another. The whole time in line I was annoyed because I couldn’t see what the lady in front of me was returning and I was curious. So it’s finally her turn, and as she goes up to the cashier I see her unwrapping a small item in her hand. I nosily re-position myself to find out what her item is and I see what appears to be a quarter of a salami on the counter.
Lady, are you freaking kidding me? You just waited in this line for 30 minutes to return your half-eaten appetizer?! First of all, it couldn’t have been that bad because somebody ate most of it. Second, unless all your Christmas dinner guests died of food poisoning and you are turning this hunk of meat in for lab analysis…this is a WASTE OF EVERYBODY’S TIME.
But at least it explained the weird smell wafting through the line.
Whatever, people…it’s finally my turn. Now, please excuse me so I can return my hair dryer and get the hell out of here already.
“I’m sorry, what? This hair dryer? It came with a mini hair dryer just perfect for travel? Oh? Really? I didn’t realize. Mini hair dryer? You see, my husband…”
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