Aug
23
The IKEA Experience
Filed Under Anttirant
I wasn’t supposed to write anything before the journey starts but this was such a great ranting opportunity that I couldn’t let it pass.
Last Saturday my brother and I decided to hit the closest IKEA to buy ourselves some bookshelves. Now the premise is bizarre to say the least because, first of all, we don’t enjoy shopping for furniture, but also because we hardly ever do anything together.
After a short drive to the huge complex, we realize that the parking lot is nearly full. That stopped us for a second to wonder what the hell is happening, there wasn’t supposed to be a rock concert here today, but in the end we carry on through the front gates without getting too worried.
Oh boy, we should’ve been. The entrance is where all the fun starts. Directly proportional to the amount of parked cars, the inside of the building is filled with enthusiastic “shoppers” and problems are bound to arise. Although we know almost exactly what we’re looking for, and there is a map of the labyrinth that can point us to the right spot, the process of actually getting there is mind-numbing, and that is an understatement.
We usually walk at a pace that other people would describe as “skiing” or “something not completely unlike but quite close to running”, but in this situation, even normal walking as a means of movement is effectively destroyed by a wall of zombies. That is the only way to describe the horde of IKEA customers roaming through the narrow corridors of the furniture filled maze as if stoned, throwing a glance in every possible direction to make sure they haven’t missed one inch of the low quality item they are never going to buy anyway. Their speed resembles that of someone who has no idea whether he should be moving or not, and it definitely doesn’t seem like anyone has entered the warehouse in order to buy anything.
Groups of people, young and old, infinitely stylish with their bright yellow and empty IKEA bag on their shoulder, are trapped forever inside the complex due to some obscure force whispering them: “Examine every single piece of anything you can see while blocking the way for everyone else, asshole.” It is not the goddamn Louvre, people. You are also not on a guided tour through the old town of Basel. You are inside a larger than normal low quality furniture shop, hindering my shopping effectiveness. Now get the fuck out of the way!
In the end we forced our way through to the bookshelf section, found what we had decided to buy, went to the self-service warehouse part of the building, found the same shelves in their natural state, bought them and drove home. It wasn’t really as hard as it was disheartening; I bet if I went back there this Saturday I would find the same people wandering around without any intention of actually moving, leaving or buying anything from that hellish place.
-Antti