I can say with utmost certainty that when I pulled into the IKEA parking lot at 3:20 this afternoon, I muttered under my breath, "why am I doing this to myself?" I knew I was making a mistake.
I decided it would be a strategic move to enter from the exit, thinking that the affordably priced seating solutions I came for would be more toward the end than the beginning of the display, if not in the self serve furniture section. There were so many people that it was like being in line at Pirates of the Caribbean at Disneyland (again, on a weekend). I felt like I was a salmon swimming upstream to spawn, only the stream was a crazy furniture and child-filled maze. I passed through many couples and I wondered how many of those relationships would be stronger because of this trip to IKEA, and how many would end because of it.
Damn, the lighting fixture section. Keep walking. You don't need glowing orbs in your living room. How many other things are you going to get distracted by? How many different dishes can you put pastries on? But that one has a glass casing and a Swedish name with an umlaut over the o (arv bröllop in case you were wondering). But I guess I can stand to reorganize my spices so I should probably get these little jars. But you probably don't need succulents. Or fake succulents.
This place has everything. There are too many choices. I kind of want Swedish meatballs even though they're kind of gross. But I'll be damned if I don't leave this place without a vanilla cone.
You came here for stools, goddamnit.
I power weave through mobs of families and find the stools at $4.99 each, as advertised. Perfect. Push this shipping container of a shopping cart to the register where I get into an 15-items-or-fewer express lane since I have 10 stools and 2 packs of glass spice containers. This woman, this indignant woman, gives me the stink eye because she has like 30 of the same item and I can tell she thinks this means that she has one item, meaning that she should be able to bypass this line entirely. Ugh. Dish some side eye back to her. Please.
I finally get the hell out of check out and am about to leave but before I stop to grab a vanilla cone, I see that the line is hella long. Surprise, another long line at IKEA. What else was I expecting? I contemplate standing in that line for 20 seconds. I make the better decision to forgo the vanilla cone (goodbye, sweet, delicious frozen treat) and walk away. As I walk out of IKEA, I see a kid in a shopping cart throwing a temper tantrum. It's like he is personifying my feelings for me. I deserved that vanilla cone.
Nothing left now but to go home, assemble stools, and put some spices into jars.
No comments:
Post a Comment