Ikea 1: They've Got A Sale/Salad
Originally uploaded by Son of Groucho.
Couldn't avoid it any more, I'm afraid. Since I was not working this Saturday, I had run out of excuses not to go to The Dreaded Ikea to buy furniture for Gdog's Little Palace (the flat we've just bought in The Big City).
It's even a traumatic experience driving to our local Ikea! Although you can see the giant blue and yellow edifice looming in the distance, you have to figure out how to thread your way through an amazingly complex network of mutliple lane roads and roundabouts to make your way to the Temple of the Cult of the Flatpack. The buggers behind you always know exactly where they're going and, consumed by their feeding frenzy, they have little patience with less experienced supplicants.
You arrive at the dedicated car park in a state of near collapse, and you then have to drive around for half an hour waiting for a space to appear. You're so relieved to find a slot that you stumble out of your car and make your way humbly to the Temple, having forgotten to note where in the huge car park you've abandoned your vehicle.
We were in luck: today they were having a sale. That totally unfunny character in their advertising campaign was supposed to have changed "sale" to "salad" (ha! bloody ha!). I reflected on the fact that the sale might mean that I was only relieved of an arm: my leg was safe for the moment!
At the end of three hours of torment, we had accumulated 7 (seven!) trolleys of stuff! The till roll was 63 cm long!! My eyes flitted nervously to the till's display screen, registered a figure akin to the debt of a small African nation, then everything went black. I came round hoping that it had all been a dream, but alas no: I really was awash with flatpacks.
Another 30 minutes searching for our car, and we drove home in silence. We struggled with the dawning realisation that the nightmare wasn't yet over: we still had to construct the bloody things!
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