An IKEA IDEA

I discovered that a trip to IKEA is not only an all day excursion, but one that also requires major strategic planning and, quite possibly, a self-defense class!

First of all, the place is like the mecca of home furnishing stores. It's very presence as you round the bend and it begins to dominate the landscape before you is easily as overwhelming as any amusement park I've been to. And once you get inside, it only get's worse. Truly, you need a map.

Inside, there's no one there to explain that upstairs is the showroom only. If you want something, you do NOT take it right off the floor and put it in your cart. No one, that is, until you notice the soccer Mom three feet away staring at you in shock and horror. With condescension, she informs you that you are to write down the model number and then you go get your merchandise yourself out of the stock room. Oh, and by the way? You're going the wrong direction... you're clearly not following the arrows on the floor. (I'll admit, I felt a little like Michael Keaton in the movie Mr. Mom). Nevermind that the woman's five-year-old is dripping his IKEA-brand chocolate icecream cone on said arrows.

Add to the confusion: a bazillion people, a mild case of clausterphobia and a complete lack of decision-making ability- and you can imagine the stress level. After four laps of "following the arrows" trying to find my way to the exit, I finally made a break for it and (gasp!) drove my cart straight through the middle of the bed display, under the closet organizers, and around the kitchen cabinets to the elevator. I finally found my desk parts in the stock room, loaded up on a flat cart, and made it to the check-out lines. Check out #78, to be exact. After he rang me up, my items just sat on the counter. When I asked if I could have a bag, he told me I'd have to pay for one. Never mind. I stacked the items carefully on top of the larger boxes- ready to be done. Come to think of it, I think these guys had the right idea! (I wonder where Soccer Mom was, here? A clear violation of shopping etiquette.)

So I get outside and, just for the record, the picture of the store above is deceptive. For starters, the parking lot stretches out for nearly a 1/2 mile. And unless you get there before the doors open, you'll be parked on the outskirts of it. But if you notice, there is nicely manacured sidewalk that stretches around the perameter of the building so you don't have to walk your huge carts (with your bagless items falling off every few feet, mind you) all through the parking lot. SUCKER!!!!!!! That sidewalk is only efficient if you plan on getting your daily laps in on it with no intentions of ever getting off. At least not with your cart. I got half-way around the building before I realized there were no "off ramps!!" It was about that time that I mumbled some explitives, eh-hem... twice.

I finally got back around to the front of the building where I was able to roll safely into oncoming traffic and angry driver's (who, by the way, were no match for me at this point! - I'd have dared any one of them to try and cross paths with me and my cart!). When I finally got to my car, I looked over and realized that I had conveniently parked next to a "cart-rack". But, alas, passive-aggression took over and I decided to stick it to the man by leaving it exactly four rows over in the opposite direction. That'll teach 'em.

On my way home, I wanted nothing more than a great big 32-ounce fountain sprite. I made a bee-line for the only gas station between the store and the highway and got super-excited when I saw their monstrous soda set-up. I won't tell you the thoughts in my head when I noticed the little sticker over the Sprite dispensor that said "please choose another drink"... but I can definately understand how one can cross over the line of sanity and end up on top of the bell tower.

It was already a busy day- I mean, even before the part where I decided it would be fun to drive to another state, pick out a desk, and come home to put it together. Can I just say I'm exhausted? (...and yes, 5 hours later I am still feeling guilty about leaving my cart for some poor fella who makes 5.25$/hr to haul carts back and fourth in 95 degree weather. In fact on my way home, I thought seriously about turning back around.)

So anyway, here is part 1 of 3 of the new desk. My friend Kyndra was going to go, but she and her family were out of town this weekend. I'm sure she can't wait to go back with me. It's big fun- and it clearly brings out the best in me! ;)