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 IKEA....The Promised Land
It is a dark and stormy noon, and the traffic is murder. You wish
your arms and hands where
big enough, strong enough, to crush the mini-van in front of you, as you wait to make your left hand turn.
Even as you pull into the parking lot, a sense of dread fills your very soul, in a sea of cars you can not
find a parking spot.
What were you thinking? Didn't you know it was a national holiday? Didn't you
know it was the day we celebrate our country's birth? No, your lifestyle choice made it
imperative that today you go to Ikea, with the other million people.
The swedes made it plenty hard to find your way IN, with their 50%off sale.
A little diligence and a bit if illegal parking and we had arrived. Now to fight our way through the
front doors. What treasures awaited us? What delights of the palate did their in-house restaurant hold?
What new bit of lifestyle could we find..as-is. The answers await... |
Inside The Beast
So you want to return something do you?
Strange things brewing inside the belly
of this beast. An eerie feeling that you've seen all this before, maybe at the airport, the last time you
left town. The dejected looks as people waited or rested until they could return there items.
As we walk through 'Returns' we find tools, barred from freedom by shiny new chains.
The sign above reads 'Test & Assembly Area', we were already worried, now we were very scared. If only we
could pry some of the tools loose, let them free. We moved on.
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Life Can Be Better
Like little tiny worlds trapped inside the huge shell of some gigantic tortoise. This is what it
felt like, as we walked the market path. Tableaus of real life with price tags for your reading pleasure.
You look here, you look there. You touch this chair, you touch that desk. You cast your approving
glance at a plush chair, just right to rest your tired ass after a long days work. Just right for
that fresh brewed cup of joe.
Jill spies a fabulous brushed aluminum refrigerator. We slip through a door way and find ourselves
in another world. Richly coloured kitchen counters, silky smooth table tops and utilitarian chairs.
The perfect environment, for the perfect lifestyle.
The fear sets in, and we hurried to find the coffee. Somewhere in this god awful big box was a
restaurant. We had a job to do, we had a mission, it included coffee.
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The Sign Declared
We found it finally. The hustle, bustle and crowds, damn it, left us drained. We needed coffee,
because that's what we do, and right there, in big black letters on a yellow background we where
rewarded. Not only coffee, but 65cent coffee. Could it get better?
Jill waved me in, past the line. The coffee was at the end, so we went around the throng, pushing
there way to get food. We didn't need food, but Jill had her regrets about missing the marzipan tart.
I had no regrets.
We where greeted by two coffee selections. Regular coffee and Swedish coffee. We opted for one cup
of each. A proper sampling.
A little cream, some sugar, and we went and found ourselves a table next to a window.
We watched the cars making there slow progress to the exit. In the distance, our illegally parked car, now
sharing its illegal space with two other vehicles.
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Coffee Selection
Regular:
Holy gees! It's coffee! Good God, who woulda thought 65cent would get you a cup. I am Jack's sense of surprise.
I am also not sure what's in it. Tastes alright, but the price is the shit. Also includes complimentary
refills. Doesn't really make up for the trauma though.
Swedish: I am Jack's itchy head. So I scratched. I had no idea the Swedes where
growing coffee. My guess is Ethiopian or Kenyan. A sweet coffee with an earthy taste. A surprise to have
such a different flavour in such a strange place.
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