(retard)ed note: No poker goodness in this post. I will have a decent post later this week about how I went all-in against some chick("chick" used in the most complimentary way possible) and she sucked out on me, big time. Yes, I did feel dirty afterwards. Until that time, you get one of my stupid stories that people seem to appreciate(and cringe while reading). Enjoy.

I shop at a discount warehouse for skinless chicken breast. There, I said it. Whew, that's a load off my back. It's less expensive, and the pieces are uniform in size in shape, whereas at a normal grocery store I'd have to sign away the naming rights for my first born(sorry, lil Gold-N-Plump), and the chicken breasts normally look more like a blob of white stuff rather than a piece of meat. Reminds of that busty albino girl I dated a few years back.

Anyhow, I need the above mentioned chicken as a source of protein to help rebuild muscles after I lift. Yes, I realize that I am my own potential source of protein, but I am not desperately in need of that much muscle. So 6lbs of wholesale chicken it is.

My trips to Costco usually produce some sort of situation that's fucked up enough that I'd like to write it down, but not fucked up enough that anybody that's not me would find humor in it. I have no good Costco stories today. The only thing that was even slightly interesting was the sale a blow-up carnival bouncy castles. A huge bouncy castle. When I saw it I peed myself and blamed it on the kid next to me. That little baby sure could pee a lot, not to metion his aim--right in my crotch--was awesome.

Unfortunately, though, someone must've tipped off the Costco management to my arrival, because the damn bouncy-bounce was on display on top of one of the aisles. So no, I have no good Costco stories today, but I do have a good gas station story. Lucky you.

I'm not even sure how much money I'm saving by buying my gas at Costco, really. It's probably like 3 cents a gallon, but hey, that adds up. Not quickly, of course, but I hope to save enough by 2013 to put a down payment on that King Size Snickers I've had my eye on for that last couple months. Hey, I can dream, too.

The gas tank on my Super-Mega-Turbo Geo is located in the back left quarter panel, so everytime I fill up, I have to make sure to approach the station with the gas pump on my left. Makes sense, right? Almost every single pump at this gas was in use, save one. Oddly enough, though, the old man in the Corolla using the pump right before the empty pump, he apparently needed to fill up his secret front end gas tank(the kind that I'd install in cars so that it EXPLODES on impact--on purpose--to erase dipshits like this from the planet), because he had pulled forward so far that his bumper was even with pump I wanted to use. My pump.

I pulled around his exact opposite of a luxury sedan, and after 3 attempts, had reversed and squeezed my way into place. Nice. The deal with all these wholesale clubs is that you need to buy a membership in order to enter the building. Along with that membership, you get--yes, you guessed it--a membership card. I thought it would be funny once to get an extra membership card for my member,(because it was a member long before I was, duh) but it turned less funny, much less funny, when I realized that it would have to get it's picture taken, too. No thanks.

I waddle my way up to the LCD screen on the front of the pump and read the instructions.

"Hello and welcome to Costco Gas. Please insert Costco magstripe card"

[Pulls Costco magstripe card out of wallet]

Ok, I can do this. So easy.

[inserts Costco magstripe card in machine]

"Remove card quickly"

Oh, that's how you're gonna be. I've met girls like you before.

[removes card slowly to spite the machine and inserts it back in wallet]

"Please wait. Processing...processing...Please select AmEx, credit card, or major ATM/Debit card."

[Selects 'credit card' and removes Visa from wallet]

Simple, simple. Everytime I go to the grocery store, or any store for that matter, I have to select 'credit card' on the card reading machine. I've never question why, I just do it.

[inserts Visa, removes even slower than before to make sure the machine knows what kind of card lovin' it's in for]

"Please wait. Processing...processing...card type invalid"

Invalid? Hey now, that's not very nice. Cripples are people too! Oooooooh, invalid. Sorry.

I must've done something wrong. Hit a wrong button or something, because this has never happened before.

[puts Visa back in wallet, pulls out Costco magstripe card. Time elapsed 3 minutes]

"Hello and welcome to Costco Gas. Please insert Costco magstripe card"

Shut up, don't act like we haven't already had this exchange. I know what I'm doing.

[inserts Costco magstripe card, removes it quickly before the pump can be bossy, places it back in wallet]

"Please wait. Processing...processing...Please select AmEx, credit card, or major ATM/Debit card."

[stares at screen and decide to select "Major ATM/Debit card"]

"Please insert card"

Oh, I'll insert it alright. I'll insert it so hard that you'll wish I hadn't inserted it so hard.

[removes Visa from wallet, jams it to the spot where the machine's cervix would be. removes it, spent.]

Was it good for you? You like that, huh?

[puts limp Visa back in wallet]

"Please enter PIN"

Well, that's just not right. I've never had to enter my Personal Identification Number number before! There's no way this can be right. I need to get back to the main screen.

[selects cancel. Elapsed time: 5 minutes, 30 seconds. Curse words: uncountable]

"Hello and welcome to Costco gas..."

Go fuck yourself.

"Please insert your Costco magstripe card"

[removes Costco magstripe card from wallet, inserts it into machine without care of how it asked for it.]

I don't care how you like it. It's no longer about you. It's all about me.

"Remove card quickly"

[sighs, obediently removes card. salivates. Elapsed time: 9 minutes]

"Card unreadable"

Motherfucker.

After 10 minutes of that, I gave up. I'd had enough. As I was just about to get in my vehicle of studliness, I noticed a small sign written in what appeared to be negative 4 font.

"In order to keep our prices down,as of January 1st, 2006 Costco will no longer accept Visa or Mastercard"

I drove away a defeated man, with only a chaffed and whimpering wallet(and an empty gas tank) to show for it.

Motherfucker indeed.