baby’s day out (or "the great IKEA adventure")

yesterday, i went to IKEA with b-dub and dan2.

we were there for almost five hours.

seriously.

they dropped some coin on a whole whack of furnishings; i tagged along for moral support, dossier carriage and more silliness than a line of famnig hjärtas sitting on a tylösand. it was huge amounts of fun, with minimal melting down. always an excellent combo when shopping.

we began our home-decorating journey with b-dub – eager to begin the afternoon’s festivities – nearly breaking his spine as he gleefully disembarked the complimentary shuttle. once safely on solid, non-slippery ground, he composed himself, glared at the offending shuttle steps, briefly pondered a lawsuit and we all headed inside to get started... on a meal.

en route to the store, dan2 had informed me that they have a system for outings such as ours. (in hindsight, it’s not so much a “system” as a predetermined start line: the cafeteria.) very, very wisely, the fellas always start what might turn into a lengthy undertaking by fueling up. shopping stress + low blood sugar is never a smart idea. so, we hit the IKEA restaurant, grabbed trays and did some carbo-loading. well, i did – you can’t beat their $1.99 pasta special! – while b-dub opted for a pre-made sandwich of questionable origin and dan2 ate roasted chicken with fries. i will leave out what he did with the bones.

once fully satiated (a big chocolate bar split between us for dessert), we were off. on the agenda: get stuff for their office and kitchen, with random items for elsewhere in the home. we spent a long while mulling over kitchen islands of varying coolness – stainless steel? stainless steel and wood? neither? how high? how wide? notes were made, options weighed, and then we pressed on.

next stop, cabinetry. as soon as we arrived in the kitchen-design section, we hit the Wall of Doors, on which was hung every possible cabinet door one could order. i saw one i loved immediately: it was orange. bright orange. i jokingly suggested it, knowing they’d reject it outright... which they did. they might have even scoffed, i can’t quite remember.

after browsing, the guys decided to enlist the aid of an IKEA staffer in figuring out what they’d need and how they’d go about actually purchasing it. one such staffer – let’s call her “patty,” because i have no idea what her actual name was – led us all over to one of the planning stations, which is essentially a computer with which you can make magic happen. if not magic, then at least some really cool 3D renderings of your desired room and desired décor. patty did her best to maintain her calm amid a battery of questions (and i could see her tensing up several times, bless her), but once the guys figured out the software, it was a breeze. a fun breeze, actually.

virtual cabinetry was created and “hung” in the virtual office with the click of a mouse. virtual doors were attached. a virtual tour of the virtual room was taken to make sure it all worked. the room looked fab. then we discovered that, because of the measurements plugged into the system, custom cabinet doors were coming up on the order. expensive custom cabinet doors.

no.

faster than you can say “mercy save us,” dan2 and i scurried off – blueprints in hand – back to the kitchen planning area, while b-dub held their computer and all the coats. room measurements at the ready, dan2 and i set about creating a new plan with pre-measured (i.e., not custom and way less expensive) cupboards and doors. speaking of doors, guess which ones they eventually plugged into the virtual room and then decided they actually loved?

THE ORANGE ONES. the ones i loved. the ones they’d scoffed at.

that’s right. val’s initially outrageous and insane design idea turned out to be just what the office doctor ordered. white cabinets, white desks, white walls and spectacular orange cabinet doors for a brilliant punch of colour. that room is going to look amazing. and i’m not just saying that because i picked the orange doors. even though i am because i totally did.

after what seemed like a thousand years (for us and poor patty, who was later relieved from her shift by someone else because we were there that long), we were done in cabinetry and headed towards the office-furniture section... where we then sat for another few decades.

desktops were compared and contrasted, legs were scrutinized (for the tables, not on each other) and then the issue of the kitchen island re-emerged when one of the fellas stumbled upon a stainless-steel tabletop. this time, a helpful and patient staffer named elizabeth (per her tag) pitched in and guided the guys through a process that put the kibosh on the initial island in favour of a custom combo of tabletop and mount. once again, it’s going to look great once in place. i neglected to include the portion of the afternoon where they first picked out stools, mainly because those stools were chucked later in favour of a much cheaper option once all was said and done, and partly because i'm fairly certain no one is actually still reading this epic blog entry, anyway.

onwards!

once the kitchen and office furnishings were locked and loaded, we descended to the first floor, where all manner of sundry items danced before b-dub’s eyes. pillows! bath mats! duvets! faux-tupperware! we were all getting kind of punchy by that point – i think we’d hit the three-hour mark by then – so he actually began singing and pirouette-ing through the aisles. they picked up random bedroom items and supplies, and bickered over laundry hampers (nylon vs. wicker... nylon won) before we made our final stop: the pick-up area. for those unfamiliar with the world of IKEA, this does not, in fact, refer to some kind of well-hidden hot-spot for sexcapades with randy singles. it’s the warehouse, where you have to locate your desired items yourself, haul them off enormous shelves along massive aisles and then load them onto your well-oiled trolley. by yourself. heaven help you if you’ve gone shopping alone. so, the boys found their stools, loaded ‘em up and we were done!

save for... the checkout.

oh dear.

long-story-at-the-end-of-a-long-story condensed to a readable length: because some of the guys’ items were in stock and some would take a week or more to arrive at the store, they’d have to be delivered in two separate shipments (IKEA only holds in-stock items for 24 hours before mandatory delivery). which meant two separate $69 delivery charges. this did not go over well with dan2. at all. there was some ranting, some calls from the cashier to her supervisor, one stompy trek to the delivery counter (dan2) and b-dub and me repeatedly shoo-ing away other customers who were queuing up behind us (“you probably want to pick another line. we’re going to be a while...”). i started having JC penney flashbacks.

eventually, when it was clear this situation would not be resolved in-store without us having to tuck ourselves in and spend the night in the bedroom division because it would surely take that long, b-dub suggested they just swallow the double-charge. i suggested they then write to head office to complain, because they’d probably be compensated somehow... likely in the form of a gift card that would cover that second delivery fee if not more.

calmer but still peeved, dan2 relented and proceeded to pay for the purchases. as the cashier scanned the smaller items and sent them along the conveyor belt, she said, “you have to buy a bag to put those in.”

i tried not to start laughing out loud.

seems the delivery department – the one that would be charging $69 x 2 – won’t accept anything (loose) that isn't in a box. either you bag them, or you have to take ‘em with you yourself when you walk out of the store. so, on top of everything else and as if to rub a little salt in the wound, dan2 and b-dub had to BUY two plastic bags (@ ¢5 a bag) in order to have these items included in the delivery that would already be costing them $138. sure, it might only have been an additional dime, but by this point the sheer principle of the thing had become so hilariously wrong. nonetheless, amid MUCH muttering, they bought the bags, i bagged the items, they dropped everything off at the delivery desk and the words “put it in the letter... just put it in the letter” (i.e., the impending complaint letter) were repeated ad nauseum by us all.

(note: “put it in the letter” will now also be the go-to, smart-ass reply when one of us starts complaining at length about anything, anywhere at any time.)

with all the sturm-und-drang done, we boarded the shuttle back to the subway (b-dub carefully holding the handrails and gingerly stepping on this time), exhausted but satisfied. the boys managed to check off all the items on their to-buy list, we had loads of laughs as they shopped, and nary a weeping employee was left in our wake.

that we know of, anyway.