Before today, I had successfully managed to avoid entering an Ikea store. And mind you, this is not because I haven’t had the opportunity to. I’ve been a stone’s throw away from the stores in Toronto and Schaumburg IL, and never once had the urge to see what all the fuss was about.
Now in fairness, that’s not to say that there aren’t any Ikea items in the house. But I did not personally buy them, and am therefore not responsible.
Anyway, I’ve spent the greater portion of the week taking my office that had been turned in to a portable basement, and returning it to its former glory. With Stephanie and Corinne visiting everyone in Denver, I’ve had the opportunity to move things in and out without hurting anyone but myself, and without subjecting anyone to a stream of cursing.
As I’m nearing the end of this week-long project, piles of jewel cases started to take over the desks. And I found myself with a small collection of things that I didn’t want to pack in boxes, but I also didn’t want to make too much room for. What I needed was something to hold all of the jewel cases, and maybe a couple of shelves.
Instinctively, I went to Lowe’s thinking I’d build them myself. I soon realized that I had little to no inclination to be a man about this, and their prices were kind of shit anyway. I also remembered how much I liked the CD / DVD holders Stephanie bought from Ikea in our family room, so the choice seemed clear. I would go to Ikea.
This is what people from Canton believe a museum looks like.
I set off for Canton, and found myself at the blue and yellow Mecca for so many, not realizing what I was truly setting myself up for.
Having finished the second grade, I was able to quickly identify the large yellow doors that said “Entrance”, and passed by the baffled customers who were entering the blue “Returns / Exchanges” door.
If you haven’t been to Ikea, there are arrows on the floor, which are supposed to elicit some sort of meaning or function. If you haven’t been to Michigan, a good 50% of the people there stood agog at the signs, knowing they probably meant something, but whatever it was, it most certainly did not apply to them.
Being new to Ikea, and of the belief that following directions in a new situation can be helpful, I dutifully followed the arrow telling me that everything my heart desired could be found upstairs.
Upon my ascension, I found myself at the beginning of what would be a horrific and annoying maze, designed to stun women and men alike. Only the children and I were safe. I didn’t know beforehand that there is no semblance of order or logic in any Ikea store until you get to the shitty area downstairs where you can actually buy things, which is what I fucking came to do in the first place. GOD DAMN YOU IKEA!
So there I was, following the trail that Hansel and Gretel had laid out for me. “Let’s see… I need shelves. Is that ‘Living Room’ or ‘Bedroom’?” I was expecting to go to an aisle named “shelves”, see a number of shelves to pick from, and be done with it. But in Ikea’s shopping vision, you’re supposed to tour every imaginary room they have and kind of stumble over what you want. Do you like the Fügenschløng shelves, or the KräziSchit ones? Fuck you if you want to see the two side by side. And fuck you twice if you want to understand why one set of shitty metal brackets cost $7.50 each and another are only sold in pairs for $15.
It took me nearly an hour to walk the upper floor. Not because I gave a rat’s ass about anything but what I had come for. No, I learned that Ikea is like a museum to some people (read: everyone who is there, except for me, and children).
“OH MY GOD! LOOK WHAT THEY CAN FIT IN TO 375 SQUARE FEET!” Why do you care? Seriously? Why the hell do you care? You do not live in 375 square feet. You will never live somewhere so small. You will never allocate that area to your house for this Ikea house-in-a-box. SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET OUT OF MY WAY!
“Did you know Ikea sells appliances? Honey? Look! Ikea sells appliances!”
“Oh, I didn’t know that. Do they have refrigerators?”
“I don’t know. I think so. They have stoves and toasters!”
WHY THE HELL DO YOU CARE? YOU OBVIOUSLY DID NOT COME HERE TO BUY A REFRIGERATOR IF YOU DIDN’T KNOW THEY SOLD THE FUCKING THINGS! WHY DO YOU BOTH NEED TO BLOCK THE FUCKING PATH WITH THE FUCKING ARROWS AND WHERE THE FUCK AM I IN THIS GOD DAMN STORE? I CAN NOT BELIEVE I HAVE TO LOOK AT THIS STUPID MAP!
Oh.
The map says that the shelves are downstairs in “Home Organization”. And there’s a sign telling me how to get downstairs from here. Okay.
So, downstairs. There are carts here, so that’s promising. But this whole endeavor really does have a strange ambiance to it. Like I really was at the museum upstairs, and now I’m at the gift shop, except I’m not throwing down five bucks for Astronaut Ice Cream. (side note: why the hell does Greenfield Village’s gift shop sell this?)
Of course, the carts turned a previously unpleasant experience in to abject torture. Right off the bat, I heard three different hayseeds express their shock over carts that have four opposable wheels, as if to suggest that this was a uniquely Ikea invention. “IT’S SO SLIPPERY!”
All of the awe and wonderment of “upstairs” had followed the people downstairs, except now they were wielding shopping carts they couldn’t master. Eventually, I found everything I needed and made my way to the checkout, where I learned it was mandatory to say something about the god damn meatballs.
“OH MY GAWD! THEY HAVE MEATBALLS! Honey, LOOK! MEATBALLS! AT IKEA!”
“HEY LOOK! They got frozen meatballs!”
Let me get this straight… is it that you believe their frozen meatballs are different from the ones at Kroger? Or did it just never occur to you that you can buy pre-made meatballs whenever the fuck you want to from any store that sells groceries? Or do you really believe that the workers at the magic pressboard factory do nothing but eat meatballs? Maybe that’s true, and it makes Ikea furniture easier to put together.
So I left, nearly 90 minutes after I had arrived. Which, in conjunction with the drive there an back, made this a nearly three hour ordeal.
But the CD holders do look nice.
