Sam's Club is such a trap.
All those wicked, conniving sample grannies, luring the fat masses to their microwaves full of previously frozen MSG laced delicacies, cut into enticing chunks and served with a toothpick and a napkin.
"Oh deary, these are so easy to make! And so cheap and delicious and there are 157 in a box and they keep for years and are so good and wonderful for parties like football parties or just everyday snacking and dinner time and every time and they are right here next to me where you can grab one and take it right now."
It sure is hard not to put a 34 lb bag of meat balls in your dump truck sized cart while you are chewing up 3 of them, and the withered old crone in the hair net is boring into your soul via one cataract glazed eye. Accusing you for even THINKING about eating her sample meat balls and not taking home a bag. To feed all the orphans in the county. For weeks.
I made the mistake of sampling a cinnamon covered jumbo pretzel. I was mesmerized as the old woman explained to me just how easy these pretzels were to prepare, how there was even enough cinnamon sugar in the box to generously coat all pretzels located therein. That 1 minute of nuking would bring me all manner of instant pretzelly deliciousness.
I sort of didn't really WANT to buy TWENTY jumbo pretzels. But I felt obligated, as I had just consumed 2 of her samples. They are terribly persuasive, these crones. I guess I just assume that if they fail to sell a certain quota of whatever item they are sampling, they are probably taken into a back room and beaten with a broom handle. No WAY are these old women that stoked about frozen meatballs. No freaking way. So that in mind, I decided to do the altruistic thing, and buy the big assed box of jumbo pretzels, and save this woman a brutal caning. 21" TV sized box in the cart, off I went.
As I was awaiting checkout, a rather tall, mostly overweight woman was checking out ahead of me. She had 8 or 10 mismatched items in the dump truck. She asked the cashier for a 40 oz beverage glass. As she finished swiping her card, he apparently didn't proffer the cup in a satisfyingly speedy enough manner, since she thrust out her pudgy arm and said, "Can I get my cup please? I need to hurry, I left my baby in the car."
Huh, I thought.
She then shuffled over to the soda machines to fill her cup with liquid sugary poison, and then had to wander about in search of a lid. As I watched this unfold, I thought "perhaps if your BABY is waiting in the car, you should consider passing on the 1000 calorie beverage. Maybe even if there is no baby. Just sayin'." Drink acquired and lid placed, she then scurried for the exit, and on to her (quite possibly shivering) baby.
Someone should probably take that thing away from her. The baby, I mean. Like the state, before someone ELSE takes it away from her while she is in the Walmarts buying a brick of cheese.