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How can anyone stand to shop at Ikea?
Nov. 17th, 2007 09:12 pmI always feel so hopeful as I go up the giant escalator past Smalland. Initially, it all looks so exciting and colorful and appealing. Even if I'm not really there to shop (I was in there today because I'm going to write a text message about the availability of cheap European-made wood toys there, for parents doing their Christmas shopping) I always find some odds and ends I want.
And then I go down to the first level and start trying to find my way out.
Ikea is incredibly disorienting so I followed the signs, which led me through the kitchen stuff, and then through the rugs, and then through bath, and then through bedroom... I think it was in the bedroom area that I started to feel a sense of panic. It got worse as the signs led me through the self-serve warehouse. Should I abandon all hope? Resign myself to eternity surrounded by flat-packed birch furniture, colorful plastic tableware, cork trivets, $1.99 rag throw rugs? Or should I drop everything I was carrying and break into a run in the hopes that I'd find my way back to the outside world?
But beyond the warehouse, the end came into sight: the cash registers. I joined a long line. It didn't move. All the other lines were long, too, and none of them really looked like they were moving.
The main thing I wanted to buy was the $5 muffin tin. We do need a new muffin tin, but not urgently, and I can buy one for $10 at Target and I won't have to fight hyperventilation while waiting in an endless non-moving line. The lines at Target are generally pretty short, in fact -- I've rarely had to wait more than five minutes. So I ditched everything I was carrying and got the hell out.
I've been in Ikea before but I've never actually bought anything, because I always get fed up with the place before I have paid-for goods in hand. It's funny, because I can shop at the Mall of America just fine. Probably because the Mall at least has the decency to break itself up into lots of manageable little stores, 99% of which I can ignore completely, and it provides maps that are actually useful and drawn more or less to scale so I can find my way to the one I'm there for.
I'm still going to submit my text message about their cheap European-made wood toys. Everyone else seems to love Ikea.
And then I go down to the first level and start trying to find my way out.
Ikea is incredibly disorienting so I followed the signs, which led me through the kitchen stuff, and then through the rugs, and then through bath, and then through bedroom... I think it was in the bedroom area that I started to feel a sense of panic. It got worse as the signs led me through the self-serve warehouse. Should I abandon all hope? Resign myself to eternity surrounded by flat-packed birch furniture, colorful plastic tableware, cork trivets, $1.99 rag throw rugs? Or should I drop everything I was carrying and break into a run in the hopes that I'd find my way back to the outside world?
But beyond the warehouse, the end came into sight: the cash registers. I joined a long line. It didn't move. All the other lines were long, too, and none of them really looked like they were moving.
The main thing I wanted to buy was the $5 muffin tin. We do need a new muffin tin, but not urgently, and I can buy one for $10 at Target and I won't have to fight hyperventilation while waiting in an endless non-moving line. The lines at Target are generally pretty short, in fact -- I've rarely had to wait more than five minutes. So I ditched everything I was carrying and got the hell out.
I've been in Ikea before but I've never actually bought anything, because I always get fed up with the place before I have paid-for goods in hand. It's funny, because I can shop at the Mall of America just fine. Probably because the Mall at least has the decency to break itself up into lots of manageable little stores, 99% of which I can ignore completely, and it provides maps that are actually useful and drawn more or less to scale so I can find my way to the one I'm there for.
I'm still going to submit my text message about their cheap European-made wood toys. Everyone else seems to love Ikea.
