Thursday, May 08, 2008

Attack of the Swedes. Part two.
I have already written about my horror of, and loathing for, Ikea.(You'll have to scroll to the bottom if you actually want to read the original post.)

Well, despite my vow to never, ever, ever go into another Ikea. I went. I was only able to stand it because Husband promised to hold my hand the entire time. And he did. Like I was a hyperactive 4-year old he had to reign in. And after a gap of a few years since my last visit, I can honestly report...

Ikea still scares the crap out of me.

The cavernous and freaky concrete bunker of a garage is still as vast and forbidding as a murder scene. The entrance is still always about half a mile from where you think it should be. And the crushingly overwhelming layout of the store continues to haunt my dreams with visions of Swedish rooms in a box and aimless families wandering glassy-eyed through carefully arranged tableau vivants of domestic tranquility. It's freaking terrifying.

We went because Cipher (The World's Most Amazing Cat, Screw You if You Don't Agree (tm)) basically ate our living room chair and we've been desperate to replace it for about 9 months now. We must have gone to a dozen furniture store looking for a chair that wasn't hideous, hideously uncomfortable, or hideously expensive. As a last resort, Husband suggested Ikea. I wept.

So we went. And I hyperventilated my way through the entire store, dodging wild kids, ambling grandmothers, and unimaginative couples who think buying prepackaged houses en masse is the height of creativity. I tried to develop a mantra to get me through the ordeal, but I was too overcome by consumeristic claustrophobia. Husband, meanwhile, found my terror amusing -- but he very kindly held my hand like a lifeline to sanity and calmly found the chair area so we could accomplish our mission.

Yes, we found a chair (I'm embarrassed to admit.) Since Cipher will probably eat this one too, we didn't want to spend a fortune, and I think we're both OK with it. Husband actually had to go back into the store on his own to arrange delivery. I, meanwhile, need a cold compress and a Valium.

1 comment:

mama d said...

Those of whom you speak are my people. Like Weohstan before us, we seek to conquer this new world ... one KAUSTBY at a time. Those of the southern climes may have improved upon our monochromatic meatballs and sauce, but none will best our EMMABO rocking chairs!