Costco can be rather overwhelming, to say the least. Even on a slow day, it's a busy day at Costco, with the average experience being remembered as a flurry of shopping carts, piled high with super-ultra-mega-packs of muffins, office supplies, frozen dinners and who knows what else. And nearly everyone is doing the sampler tour before stopping by the kitchen for the cheapest lunch money can buy. If you're a Costco member, this is all commonplace. But the gas station line is another story.
Often stretching so far outside the normal definition of a "waiting line", a Costco gas queue often ends up resembling an octopus of vehicles, winding back into the parking lot, causing other shopping fish extraordinary stress as they become hyper aware of the growing travel challenges they're facing as they head for home.
It was on a recent dive into these fuel-thirsty waters that a friend and I had ventured. And while our lunch was debating whether to travel to our hips or thighs, she and I noticed something new.
A few lanes over, a woman was filling her (I'm not a car person, so the closest I can say is that this was a soccer mom van), and while the 87 octane was pumping away, this woman was jogging. In place.
It seemed a bit funny at first: was she just doing an overdramatic pee-pee dance? No, the pace was too measured for that. She was exercising, right there in front of everyone. And her vehicle must have had a huge tank, because it looked like she'd nearly gone the equivalent of half a mile before it was filled. 'Broad daylight: jet black hair bouncing on her shoulders like a professional dressage competition, her athletic form appearing to have no difficulty in keeping the pace. And just like that, she replaced the hose, twisted the gas cap, and was out of there.
I'll never know the reasons for why this mini workout took place. But those mysteries aren't what made this experience so worth retelling. It was that she did it: others' opinions be damned. For me, that's high-level chutzpah. If the next Olympics feature an event called "Badass but Legal Public Audacity", sign this lady up for the qualifiers.
I freely confess that I do not possess this skill set. But I respect the person who does, especially when it isn't fueled by the usual culprits: alcohol, meth, losing a bet, etc. This lady was probably as sober as a Buckingham Palace guard. And good for her. Life is too short in general, and too chaotic currently, to let a little anxiety get in your way.
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