As many of you know, I took my husband to IKEA this past weekend. I was so excited that he agreed to go...after all..."the bookshelves aren't going to buy themselves, you know, honey"? While riding in the car on the way there, I kept babbling about the prices and the food and the showroom and on and on. And he kept making these frowny faces and bitching about the traffic. LOL.
When we entered the parking lot and he could see how many cars and people were already in their IKEA glory, he muttered something along the lines of "Oh, hell no". But, we proceeded. As we walked the 4,000 football fields through the parking lot, I point out the Swedish meatball sign..."Look, honey, the meatballs!! Only $2.99"! To which, he responds with a "hmph". My enthusiasm is quickly waning.
Once inside, I tried to get my bearings. IKEA can be overwhelming even on a good day and now I had to contend with Saturday crowds and a husband who hates both shopping and people. I knew I had to find those bookshelves and I had to find them fast. But, as anyone who has ever been to IKEA knows...there is no fast way to get to anything. The store is a complete labyrinth...only in this case, once you reach the center, there is no inner peace. No...not with my husband. By now he was grumbling obscenities every 42 seconds and I was starting to sweat and push people. I decided that the best course of action was to shut everything out and follow those damned floor arrows to the bookshelves. Then, again, shut everything out...head down, ears averted and follow those damned floor arrows to the self-help furniture warehouse. Never in my life have I been so discontent inside of IKEA. This was not your usual IKEA shopping experience. There was no time to even eye the prices and happily gasp "look...only $34.99...for all of that"! Nope. Not with my husband. :o)
We did eventually purchase our shelves, load them in the car, drive them home, unload them and recover. The IKEA store is approximately 25 minutes from our house. We made it there and back, with the getting stuck in traffic, the running through the store and the purchasing of the shelves, in a little over an hour. Record-breaking. Never again. IKEA cannot be experienced this way. It is against the Nordic tradition. You win, hubs. Next time...I go alone. LOL.
My husband and I once constructed a futon. It's a great futon and looking at it, you would never know the blood, the sweat, the tears that went into it. The process wasn't pretty and if we weren't so exhausted from the act of getting the futon into an operable functioning condition, we may have murdered each other with the wooden slats that hold that lovely piece of furniture together.
That being said, I build all of our assembly-required furniture myself, alone, now. It's safer for everyone that way. I love building IKEA furniture. The little drawings that you have to decipher. They make me laugh. Sometimes they make me curse. But, in the end, once I build something...I feel like I am amazing. Amazing. I built bookshelves. I rock. I am woman, hear me roar. Damn...I want some meatballs.
And...Thanks Jamie...for your viewing pleasure.... IKEA by Jonathan Coulton
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