BJ’s … It’s a ‘big’ deal

“Fee. Fi. Fo. Fum … I smell the blood …”

Those were the words I expected to hear just at any second as my wife and I set off on our Lewis and Clark-esque expedition down the aisles of the newly opened BJ’s Wholesale Club.

The store was big. (The cart being the size of a Humvee should have been my first clue.) The merchandise was huge! 

“Looking for the eight- or 12-ounce sized Old Spice Body Wash? Nope. Here you go. Have a gallon’s worth. Now you can wash every minute, and it’ll last you all year long.”

“What’s that? You’re always running out of cereal for your 1.94 children (the average number in the U.S. household)? Here you go. Frosted Mini-Wheats. 123.84 ounces. Old woman who lived in a shoe recommended.” (“There was an old woman who lived in a shoe. She had so many children, she didn’t know what to do. She went to BJ’s now all she can say: ‘I have so much I can’t give it away’!”) 

“Want to have your chicken marsala served over a bed of rice? Here you go. 25 pounds. You can eat it, or you can sleep on it.” 

I mean, most everything was like that! 25 pounds of sugar. (Granted one bag would make for the perfect sweet tea in the South.) There were pretzels the size of playground equipment! There was a bag of popcorn so big I could have binge-watched – rewatched – all five seasons of Breaking Bad and still had enough for sneaking into the movies at some point later on! Spaghetti sauce: You could feed all of Italy! (These are just a few from my notes.)

“Honey, I Shrunk The Kids.” 

“No, darling. They super-duper-sized your groceries!” Beyond “family” sized. Far above “our biggest size ever”.  Galaxy-sized! (“We’re going to need a bigger boat (aka freezer).” (Note: The electronics, the furniture, the clothes are pretty much what you’re used to. Minus the 6,000-inch flat-screen TVs.)

Now to pay the tab. 

$300 and counting … “That’s okay. That’s normally what we spend at Walmart on the weekend.” $400 and counting … “Still okay. That’s normally what we spend at the Robins Air Force Base Commissary (we buy more meats).” $500 and counting … “Hmmm.” $600 and counting … “Well, perhaps that 50-pound lobster was a bit much.” $630.17.

Yeah. Just … like … that. And we weren’t just randomly grabbing things. We were “selective” shopping, only for the things we had on our list. (Okay, so maybe I slipped a giant box of coffee pods and about 1,000 pounds of candy products in there.) It just added up quick. 

Inflation/exaggeration aside – it was only a half gallon of Old Spice and I only added 999 pounds of candy – BJ’s is pretty cool. I liked the heck out of it. I bought 100 packs of Sheba! Seriously! A hundred “perfectly portioned” twin-packs! I was pretty thrilled about that. As was my cat. (It’s the little things with us.) That’s one, maybe two, less trips to the store in the coming months. (And a lot less stress she’ll claw my eyes out in my sleep if I forget.)

That’s the thing. Long-term, it seems pretty clear you’re going to save money buying in bulk. (I know. Costco and Sam’s pretty much affirmed that already.) Short-term I haven’t even mentioned the five cents off each gallon of gas or the coupons, but if you’re a paycheck-to-paycheck kind of person you’re going to want to proceed with caution. See my tab. It’ll be easy to get in over your head.

Your only saving grace at that point: Sell the cow, take out a loan or find that hen that lays the golden eggs. (P.S. The giant [magic] beans are on Aisle 8.)