Stupid People

The Ikea Chair Lottery

IKEA Parking LotIdeally, Sunday should be: Brunch, a cafe, or maybe a movie. Perhaps I’ll just laze away on the couch absently picking a guitar, staring off into space , gloriously unshowered, unshaven, and unfit for visitors. Idyllic picture, huh?

Sunday should not be spent shoulder to shoulder with zombified masses of drooling idiots, shambling through an orgy of crappy furniture, which you will inevitably buy and then return next week because it sucked monster moose cocks.

Welcome to Ikea, and yes I know…I brought it all on myself by going there just after the holidays ended when everyone is returning stuff. This post is about other people’s stupidity, not my own. Ok?

Maybe you’ve been there. They might have something halfway decent, or maybe it’s better than decent. Still, every so often, you must go and deal with the wasteland of a parking lot, full of random moronic drivers, to get your item, to wait in line, and to buy it.

Everything actually went well on that 1st stellar day. I found a dining table that I liked, and they were having a special: buy 3 chairs, get one free. So I did it! I bought them. It was actually painless. (quick tip: Go with a friend. It takes the edge off)

Wouldn’t you know it, one of the chairs was damaged, which meant I would have to go back and exchange it. Which I did the very next day.

Day 2: I die in Ikea’s item exchange purgatory. They don’t have a replacement (!?). They resurrect me so that I can come back another time.

Day 3: I get my chair. I bring it home. I assemble it. One of the pieces sucks and is missing half the stain. Guess one of the Ikea drones missed a spot. I don’t get angry. My eyes glaze over. I shudder.

Day 4: Back at the Ikea parking lot, a nice man lets me know that he’s leaving and I can have his spot. But it’s a trick. The spot opens on both ends so as I’m backing in, so is someone else…from the other side! But I’m 3/4 of the way in, so it’s kinda mine now. Still, we never even had a chance to discuss it. He just quickly got out of his car, called me an asshole (twice) and then drove away (?) Weird.

I like when problems take care of themselves. And it wasn’t even a good spot…

Still, I got the chair and took it home. End of story.

Ugh…that was unpleasant. I’m not even sure if this was about the chair or the parking lot, but writing about it felt like re-living it.




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