Mike ErvinEvery time I go to Costco, I always conduct a social experiment.

There’s an employee posted at the entrance, and that person says welcome. And then every entering customer flashes their Costco membership card. It’s an unspoken ritual.

I wonder what the job title is for that employee. Greeter? Card-checker? I suppose if someone without a membership card demands to be let in, it’s that employee’s job to grab them by the collar and throw them out. So maybe their job title is bouncer.
But anyway, when I enter, I always just stroll right by the friendly bouncer without showing my card, as if I don’t have a clue what’s going on.  I try not to make eye contact. If he or she says welcome, I say thanks. I always have my card strategically tucked in my side pouch where it can easily be whipped out and flashed if they should ask to see it. But they never ask. They always let me slide on by. Every single time.

What does this social experiment prove? Hell if I know. I guess it proves that Costco bouncers are somehow intimidated by my crippledness. Thus, they give me special treatment. But should