I've written tributes to the Swedish furniture invader a few times in the past. I love the whole IKEA experience-the wandering, the looking, the deciding, the eating (not so much the cart pushing or loading, but the rest I do enjoy).
I've taken countless pilgrimages over the past few weeks, getting the final furnishings for the cabin.
Who designed those carts, anyway? Especially the flatbeds.
It's difficult to navigate the carts through the labyrinth, but once you hit the warehouse and have to get a flatbed, driving with any control becomes awkward and obnoxious, apologizing to every pedestrian you pass for crushing their Achilles tendon as you careened into them from behind. And what is it going to take to get someone to design a parking brake to use when loading them with the heaviest and most awkward boxes stuffed with pressboard?
I had a very long list of very large boxes to finagle onto those unwieldy flatbeds.
Have you ever bought mattresses at IKEA? They come rolled up like a camping pad. Can't wait to unroll them as see if they spring open upon release or if they unfurl gently and take time to assume a conventional mattress shape. This load was the six mattresses and two bunk beds.
After a quick analysis, I realized that this would require several load in the old gray mare.
The next day, I set back out. I got the sectional and a few small items loaded on the cart, approached the register with the assistance of air traffic controllers, and reached into my purse.
Um.
Where was my wallet?
I was furious. I texted Lily before even leaving the store.
"I am at the register at IKEA and MY WALLET IS NOT IN MY PURSE!!!!!! NEXT TIME YOU NEED LUNCH MONEY, PUT IT BACK!!!!!"
Screaming over text is a lot less scarring than in person, right?
She texted me back that she had replaced it that morning. I knew she was wrong, but I had no choice but to have them hold my assembled cart while I made the 30-minute EACH WAY drive home to grab my wallet.
Before leaving the parking lot, I shot a quick text to Brad.
"I'm so mad at Lily. At IKEA and she took my wallet out of my purse this am. Such a waste of time. Ugh."
Not 30 seconds later, my phone dinged.
"I'm sure you're frustrated, but Lily didn't take your wallet out of your purse. I needed to copy your driver's license for the mortgage refinance papers. Sorry."
Yeah. That did not go over well.
"WHATTTTT?????? DON'T TOUCH MY STUFF!!!!"
Once again, screaming over text is less damaging, but still effective, right?
The only up side to this whole adventure?
Before I proceeded through the register, I loaded a second kamikaze dolly with the three bed frames and took both carts through checkout simultaneously.
IF you can call that an up side.
The garage is stuffed to overflowing with cabin stuff.
The basement is stuffed to overflowing with cabin stuff.
The shed is stuffed to overflowing with cabin stuff.
It's time.
If we could simply get the power company to hook up the power . . .
If only it were that simple . . .
I've taken countless pilgrimages over the past few weeks, getting the final furnishings for the cabin.
Who designed those carts, anyway? Especially the flatbeds.
It's difficult to navigate the carts through the labyrinth, but once you hit the warehouse and have to get a flatbed, driving with any control becomes awkward and obnoxious, apologizing to every pedestrian you pass for crushing their Achilles tendon as you careened into them from behind. And what is it going to take to get someone to design a parking brake to use when loading them with the heaviest and most awkward boxes stuffed with pressboard?
I had a very long list of very large boxes to finagle onto those unwieldy flatbeds.
Three sets of bunk beds
Two queen bed frames
One kind bed frame with drawers
One sectional
and
SIX twin mattresses
Have you ever bought mattresses at IKEA? They come rolled up like a camping pad. Can't wait to unroll them as see if they spring open upon release or if they unfurl gently and take time to assume a conventional mattress shape. This load was the six mattresses and two bunk beds.
The next day, I set back out. I got the sectional and a few small items loaded on the cart, approached the register with the assistance of air traffic controllers, and reached into my purse.
Um.
Where was my wallet?
I was furious. I texted Lily before even leaving the store.
"I am at the register at IKEA and MY WALLET IS NOT IN MY PURSE!!!!!! NEXT TIME YOU NEED LUNCH MONEY, PUT IT BACK!!!!!"
Screaming over text is a lot less scarring than in person, right?
She texted me back that she had replaced it that morning. I knew she was wrong, but I had no choice but to have them hold my assembled cart while I made the 30-minute EACH WAY drive home to grab my wallet.
Before leaving the parking lot, I shot a quick text to Brad.
"I'm so mad at Lily. At IKEA and she took my wallet out of my purse this am. Such a waste of time. Ugh."
Not 30 seconds later, my phone dinged.
"I'm sure you're frustrated, but Lily didn't take your wallet out of your purse. I needed to copy your driver's license for the mortgage refinance papers. Sorry."
Yeah. That did not go over well.
"WHATTTTT?????? DON'T TOUCH MY STUFF!!!!"
Once again, screaming over text is less damaging, but still effective, right?
The only up side to this whole adventure?
Before I proceeded through the register, I loaded a second kamikaze dolly with the three bed frames and took both carts through checkout simultaneously.
IF you can call that an up side.
The garage is stuffed to overflowing with cabin stuff.
The basement is stuffed to overflowing with cabin stuff.
The shed is stuffed to overflowing with cabin stuff.
If we could simply get the power company to hook up the power . . .
If only it were that simple . . .
As miserable as your trip came across - it can't be nearly as miserable as putting all of that together! Good luck!
ReplyDeleteNow that's a 'remember when....'
ReplyDeleteI love IKEA too. It's a 40 minute drive, then a 90 minute ferry (with a half hour on each end in wait time) and another 40 minutes drive to get to the nearest one. I get there whenever I work on the mainland and load up. I'll be there next weekend - dresser shopping!
i adore ikea and thankful it's 15 mins from my house
ReplyDeletemy husband REFUSES to ever go with me...the place stresses him out to NO end!
that or he's the one putting stuff together...either way I will gladly go alone (with his pocketbook)
oh boy, that made me laugh:)
ReplyDeleteoh boy, that made me laugh:)
ReplyDelete