As some of you know, I’m a huge fan of Ikea. I went to our brand new Ikea here in Columbus opening weekend 2 weeks ago. You can read about it here.
I had purchased gold lamps that stuck out more than Kylie Jenner having an ounce of weight on her and had to return them. Last time I went, there were people everywhere to tell you where to go. I mean, they literally held your hand the whole way through. People were out on the street, people in every parking lot row, people in the restaurant. Hell, I’m surprised there wasn’t someone in the restroom directing me to lay 2 pieces of toilet paper on the seat then squat. Upon turning into the Ikea parking lot, there was NO ONE! I felt lost, having to navigate the choppy waters of Sweedish meatballs and assemble on your on furniture.
Return Department
Next up, the return department. There were already several people sitting on benches and waiting in line to return stuff. I took the bakery-like number from the dispenser and read “480”. I looked up to the numbering being served- 473. Not bad. And it wouldn’t of been bad if all 3 families being serviced stuck to script and didn’t make polite, casual conversation with the sales associates. When it was my turn, the girl seemed less than enthusiastic to help me. She was obviously from one of the nearby well-to-do neighborhoods and felt she was too good to be wearing a blue and yellow striped shirt.
After only minimal words were exchanged to complete this transaction, she then said the following to me:
“I saw A Cure For Wellness and it will haunt me forever. I can’t unsee it.”
At no point did we have any sort of conversation other than “was there anything wrong with them” and “do you have the credit card with you that this was purchased on?”
I really don’t have anything else to say about this other than it was a misplaced conversation. So odd.
The Debate
I go through this each and every time. It’s an internal battle. Do I say “fuck it” and buy everything I want to buy? Or do I buy a new duvet cover this time then the flower pots next visit? My son also needs something to hold his 36 Nerf guns as you can no longer see the bottom of his closet. I semi went off and bought a storage thing for the Nerf guns then then pretty little flower pots, lanterns and lastly, a pink watering can! I have a pic to show you but my phone is being a dick and not transferring the pics to my email so I’ll update this post as soon as I get them. God I love pink! Please ignore my Blood of My Enemies wine glass. My husband and I took our libations outside Saturday night.
The Finishing Touches
At the end of my Ikea journey, I managed to get the stuff to have an Ikea dinner- meatballs, lingoberry jam (spelling), gravy and mashed potatoes. Additionally, I got a 6 pack of cinnamon rolls and had enhaled one before even getting home.
God bless you Ikea! (tear)
“I saw A Cure For Wellness and it will haunt me forever. I can’t unsee it.”
My head literally tilted and had to go back to read the beginning, just in case I missed something. WTH??
Exactly! What was that all about? So odd!!
Confession: I’ve never been. There’s one not far from here, and I’ve lived perilously close to Ikea stores before, but I’ve never been. Partly out of fear, if I’m honest. Remember The Container Store? They’re online now, but they used to have physical locations and I would have an org-gasm every time I walked in and never walked out with less than $100 of merchandise even if all I went in for was colored paperclips. I would spend hours wandering those aisles, lusting after every single thing they had to offer. Ikea, from all accounts, is where I will die someday. So the way I figure it, all I have to do is stay out of Ikeas and I’ll live forever.
Shut up, that’s totally how it works.
Oh…totally! But the difference is at the Container Store a colored paper clip would be $5. At Ikea you could get a table for $5.