Dream Journal

No-Go Costco

At Costco, it’s taking me a long time to pick out stuff. I only have my wife’s membership card, but I hope to convince the cashier. Before even looking at it he says they can’t accept it. I get uncharacteristically mad at a cashier, cursing the guy out for being such a dick.

Looking for an exit then. Storing stuff in a Spanish-style back hallway. One room is a walk-in freezer that looks like a bank vault. They escort/guide me out a back door, but it exits to a housing development in Florida.

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