Guess what we got here in Phoenix a few weeks ago? Contrary to the frenzy it created, it was NOT the second coming of Christ... it's an IKEA store. And I use the term 'store', lightly, considering it's the size of a small third world country. Now, I'd never been to an IKEA, nor looked at a catalogue or anything else. I'd vaguely heard the name a time or two, but never paid much attention. Apparently I'd been living under a rock. Word got out about the opening date, and people CAMPED OUTSIDE THE STORE. No, I'm not kidding. One guy was there for NINE days. Yes, that was a NINE. How little of a life must one have to camp outside an IKEA for NINE DAYS? I'm assuming he's either actively unemployed or has a boss as psychotic as he is that let him off work for that time. Nine freaking days... the mind boggles.
Well, it paid off for the camper in the long run. They rewarded his dogged determination to be the first customer in the store by giving him the ENTIRE set up in their picture advertiser that week. I don't know the dollar value, but I'm willing to bet it's more than his unemployment check. I still couldn't do it, myself, but that's just me. I can't begin to imagine what I'd smell like after nine days on IKEA's doorstep. Probably about as bad as I'd look. I don't do camping for that reason alone, not for one day, not for nine. Call me prissy.
Anyway... I dragged my husband and the six year old to IKEA last Friday. Had no idea what to expect, but I'd gone to their website after hearing all the hubbub, and liked what I saw, so I thought it would be fun to go take a look around. Next time I have a brilliant idea like that, just SHOOT ME.
Remember me mentioning the size of this place? Let me just clarify that for you... THREE HUNDRED FIFTY THOUSAND SQUARE FEET. Yeah, that's right, roughly the size of ten Home Depots. Now, when you've recovered from the thought of that, let me just add some icing to the cake. This place is set up to let no one out with either their sanity or their money. You walk in, and the first thing you see is a little trolley thing full of pamphlets and small pencils *the kind you get when you play putt putt*. The sign on the trolley? 'HOW TO SHOP AT IKEA'. You KNOW you're in trouble when you need a how-to course on getting through the purchasing process. I should have turned around and left right then, but noooooooo, I just HAD to see IKEA. *sighs* So here's how it works... the entire upstairs *it's two stories* is the Showroom. Acres and acres of mocked up living rooms, kitchens, etc. You wander through these areas, see a piece you like, and find the tag hanging from said piece. The tag will have an aisle number and an area number on it. You know what that's for? For when you finally drag your sorry ass downstairs to actually GET the piece. You know why people love their shit from IKEA so much? For the same reason hunters brag about killing a ten point buck... the thrill of the hunt, baby. You manage to get out of IKEA with a set of shelves, you will be more loyal to that set of shelves than you are to your spouse or your dog. You would rush into the flames devouring a burning building and carry those shelves out on YOUR BACK. You didn't just BUY those goddamned shelves, you EARNED them.
Now here's something else that should be a warning sign about entering an IKEA. Food. Not a vending machine, a RESTAURANT in the store. A big one. Salad bar and all. Now, any store that has a full scale restaurant inside is obviously counting on people being as stupid as I was and not making the connection between HAVING a restaurant and NEEDING a restaurant. As I told my husband right before we left, of COURSE they have a restaurant in there... if they didn't, people would get lost, starve, and DIE, and that wouldn't be good for business. Jesus.
Now, the marketing Einstein that set up the traffic pattern in this place must be getting paid major dollars by the IKEA people. You do NOT get to dash in and dash out for a quick end table purchase. They have it set up so that you pretty much HAVE to walk through the entire fucking top floor to get to the downstairs, and then walk through the ENTIRE downstairs, assuming your legs haven't fallen off yet, to get to checkout. And that's not even counting the hunt for your piece in what I affectionately call the 'Aisles of Hell'. I didn't buy any furniture when I was there, just a few odds and ends that I accidentally stumbled across in my dazed quest for the exit. If I'd been forced to actually go find something like an end table, I might have had to impale myself on one of their simply fabulous floor lamps.
When all is said and done, there are two or three things to note: 1)IKEA has wonderful stuff, mostly affordable, mostly very modern, sleek lines... it's a great way to update the look of your home without going bankrupt, which is important to people in my financial position. 2)Don't EVER go to IKEA and plan on buying during your first visit. Trust me on this. You go the first time to just figure out where half the shit is, what you like, and how long you can make it through without going into cardiac arrest or a psychotic episode. Find your threshold and know your limits. Oh, and 3) Plan on taking a warm body with you. It makes the carting and fetching easier, and it also makes sure that you're not the only one fucking miserable.
But you'll sure have a great end table to show for it...
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