Costco nation

I once read that if you ever visit Montreal and want to dine where the locals really eat out, then you should go to Costco for a bratwurst.

I love Costco. Every weekend, without fail, the Captain and I shop there whether we really need anything or not. As soon as we arrive, he buys his 59 cent fountain Diet Coke while I peruse the books and clothes. After reuniting, we wind our way through our circuit of aisles and food sample carts. We buy fresh fruit, warm bread, organic coffee and OJ. The salmon and mussels are as fresh as you can get around here. With our busy schedules, we've come to count on the chicken breasts, frozen meatballs, pot stickers, and fresh tortillas from Costco to help us plan for suppers.

It's a very popular place on the weekend, but I really don't mind the crowds. Let me share my little secret. It is when Costco is most crowded that know I will find what it is that I truly love the most there.

It's the languages.

Every trip not only promises Spanish and Russian conversations that I both eagerly and nonchalantly listen to, but it is the one place in my white bread world where I am privileged to hear the sounds of tongues from the Orient and the Middle East as well.

Just yesterday as I was checking out the new workout capris on one of the clothing tables, a woman in a Muslim scarf was holding a pair of black Calvin Klein jeans up to her waist and chattering with her husband while he was trying on a jacket. The couple's kids were wrapped up in their game of laughter in a shopping cart. I secretly wished that I could understand their joke. It was also obvious that the adults were engrossed with the wonder of shopping together. They seemed like a very happy family. I imagined what was really going on in their conversation:

He: Sweetheart, what do you think of this color? Will I be able to wear this to work?

She: It's a tad casual for work honey, but it would be okay on the weekends when you are running errands. What about me? Do you suppose these pants will make me look fat?

He: Dear, you are not fat! You are beautiful!

For some odd reason, I always leave Costco feeling connected with complete strangers. Though of many cultures, we really are the same deep down.