Why Ikea Must Die

(If you don't know me well, please don't take this as anything other than me venting and unsuccessfully trying to be slightly humorous - and maybe a little gross - in the process.)

While we were in Austin visiting my grandmother in the hospital, against our better judgment we decided to visit Ikea and try to buy the lighting I found and fell in love with on their website. I should have known better (considering the run in I had with Ikea over the phone several months back) than to abandon my vow to never give them another minute of my time. However, when we discovered it was just down the road a little ways from our hotel room and my uncle said it was really neat and had a good restaurant inside, I could hear its huge blue walls literally calling out my name. It's sort of like that little swollen taste bud on the tip of your tongue you just can't leave alone. You know it hurts to bite it, yet it begs you to anyway and makes you think that if you do it just ONE more time, it might go away... but nope! Lying, conniving little stinker.

For the love of all that's decent and normal, is there a good reason someone didn't tell me that it's a MAZE? Literally! Who designed that place and what the sam hill were they smoking when they did it? I must say, this is not a good store for a claustrophobic type person to be wandering around in. It took me over half an hour of wandering and fighting off the mobs of poor, lost Ikea nomads to find the lighting section of the labyrinth, and that was even using those ridiculous "you are here" maps. I'm sorry, but any store of that size that needs "you are here" maps really should just implode and save society the misery of its ridiculousness.

So we found this supposedly wonderful restaurant (which is obviously there solely to provide sustenance during the long journey from point A to point B - IF you can find it - else you may just drop dead out of sheer exhaustion. Or confusion. Or annoyance.) and even though my lovely man doesn't like to eat cafeteria style, he found something that sounded good. So off I went to collect a few things while he ordered his food (I rarely eat out, and definitely not in the middle of anxiety attack inducing labyrinth "you are here" signs *shudders*). He got his tray, a fork and knife and started to go down the line when all of a sudden he saw someone handle raw chicken without gloves, then (without washing his hands!!) turn around and start messing with the cooked foods line! Umm, can we say major health code violation?? So the D-man said "thanks, but no thanks!" and called me (love those nifty cellphones in the insane doped up maze stores) to tell me and I found my way back to the cafeteria and led him back with me to the lighting where we had even more fun *rolls eyes* discovering that the chandelier I liked online was ugly in person. We did find a pendant light for over the sink/bar (which I'm now not sure I love after all - I was very confused and disoriented, not unlike a lab rat - but what the heck, it was only $12 and there's always Ebay) and a few almost-flush flat-like lights to replace the ugly fake brass ones in the hall and front doorway (I love fake brass about as much as I love insane maze stores). The track lighting I had my eye on wasn't bright enough for the place we wanted it, and Diddy was more than *slightly* irritated at the whole international shopping experience at this point, so I gave up looking for a replacement. We did manage to find a couple toilet paper holders that are nice, brushed nickel, but came without screws (which I find out three days later as I attempted to mount it on the cabinet). Ok, Ikea, how hard is it to include a couple of screws in your toilet paper holder package, or at the very least have the decency to say "screws not included" on the outside of the box? Even toy makers are nice enough to tell you when you need to buy batteries to operate their junk... what's your problem?

After more time and wandering around the maze (maybe if we ever go again - doubtful - we should borrow some nitrous oxide from my dentist first because you obviously have to be high to enjoy that experience) we found the checkout place and started to check ourselves out. It was then and only then we see that you have to pay 5 cents per plastic bag. Ok, so I'm all for saving the environment, yadda yadda yadda, but again, wish someone would have told me that you have to BUY your bags! I had a whole bunch of the environmentally dangerous scary plastic bags and a roll of paper towels back at the hotel that I brought for the trip in case the Molly dog decided to embark on one of her pukefests in the (pet friendly) room. But nooooo. I was not armed with the buy your own plastic bags knowledge and hence did not have my own non-green bags, so we bought the 60 cent huge blue crunchy "disposable" bag to carry our findings. I figured we could use it for something later on, like wrapping up a whole bunch of dissected bug parts smooshed into my dogs' excrement and sending it to Ikea headquarters along with a note saying, "I'd rather eat this than ever spend another dime in one of your stores again. Oh yeah... and you really should hire some better architects." (No offense to any Ikea architects, employees, crunchy blue bags, or in-tact bugs intended.)

So even though I HATE Ikea (now more than ever, even) they managed to weasel over $40 out of us (and a good talking to for that chicken incident as well). Down with Ikea! I think I should start a boycott. Are you with me?? We can start a picket line and get a petition going and everything. Just give me a minute. I think I need some new dishes...