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It’s true, COSTCO pizza is an amazing value. Then again, basically anything at COSTCO is a great value if you have the money upfront. It’s one of those places where you walk in thinking you’ll just get one or two things and somehow end up spending like $200 on shit you didn’t know you needed, stocking up because of the great bargain.
That’s how they get you.
When I was writing this I kept going back and forth between COSTCO and the base commissary. The commissary might have been more appropriate for a Marine Corps comic, but COSTCO is pretty fucking awesome. Specifically though, COSTCO pizza is fucking glorious and super cheap. Every time I go I make it a point to stuff my fat ass with one of those $1.50 slices of American splendor while bald eagles and the Blue Angels soar overhead to “Danger Zone.”
These are the kind of crucial creative decisions that keep me up at night.
I’ve actually never been to the commissary at Twentynine Palms. My two thirty day stints at Mojave Viper were the extent of my experience at the desert oasis of a base. However, I do fondly remember the commissary at MCBH Kaneohe Bay in Hawaii. The sandwich deli counter is a far superior solution to the 3 (literally) Subways aboard the base. Jared can go fuck himself, I’ll take a real sandwich please. The commissary is also a great place to get cheap groceries “tax-free.” I say “tax-free” because there’s a rather suspect surcharge associated with buying items at the commissary that I could never figure out.
It’s not a tax. It’s a surcharge.
For those of you wondering what a commissary is, it’s a fancy word for grocery store.
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