What's in Your Basket?

I love Costco. It is just so much fun. Everything is oversized, from the massive parking lot to the gargantuan carts. It's like Disneyland for grownups and it is just good shameless fun. As I walked through the aisles today grabbing lots of things I don't need but just seem too cheap to pass by, I gleamed with my adoration and devotion to this place. A half an hour and a full cart later, I waited in line in front of an older man who commented on every single thing that I took out of my basket to pay for.
I mean, we really all do the same thing. Shopping carts are just beckoning for people to come and take a look, and yet, grocery shopping is one of the more personal kinds of shopping out there. Theoretically, you could be nursing a bad case of hemmorhoids that you really don't want to talk about, and yet, you put Preparation H in your basket and it's there for everyone to see. There are so many things that you might need, but are slightly embarassed to buy should you run into your neighbor or mother. I wondered about the man who exited Costco with me, and all he bought was a bag of bananas. How could you go to Costco and only get one thing, and why bananas? Or there was the teenager with a cart full of cranbery juice. What's her story? I'm so tempted to ask, and yet, I hate when I'm confronted by strange, although well intentioned people looking through my bounty. We're curious creatures, but can't I buy my five hundred rolls of toilet paper in peace?