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Here's what I noticed:
1) Old people, lots of them. I guess it’s
because we were there on a Monday at 10 in the morning, and pretty much
everyone else has somewhere to be at that time, except for the geriatrics. The
stranger thing was that most of them didn’t venture into the furniture part of
the store; they mostly just stayed around the restaurant portion (which was
also quite large and apparently called IKEA Bistro). Not sure how all of them
made it there, maybe there are shuttle busses coming in from retirement homes?
It's like old people Disneyland! [via] |
2) The Prices. Everything was super cheap.
My breakfast cost $3 and you could buy a full real cow hide there for $299,
which Kristin Pauls assured me is a steal of a deal. I hear that IKEA is about
quantity over quality and I suppose that shows in their prices.
3) Following the Yellow Point Road. They
had the store laid out in such a way that you have to follow a specific path
throughout the whole thing. First you enter and then you have to go upstairs in
by the restaurant, or if you’re skipping that you get into fully assembled
living rooms, then dining rooms, kitchens, work spaces, and then bedrooms.
This, I am told, is perfectly calculated to put you in the buying mood. Once
you’re all finished with the full rooms, you go into a whole floor of nick-nacs
with which to adorn said rooms. Again, everything here is super cheap. It’s
hard to tell if other people are buying stuff though, because most people don’t
actually fill up carts like you would in other stores, you write down the codes
of the things you want and grab them from…
4) The Warehouse. It’s located in-store
and is basically just a football arena sized room filled with boxes with words
like FJELLSE and BJÖRKUDDEN on them. This is
where they keep all the assembly-required merch. Strangely enough, I don’t ever
remember passing people at the check-outs at any point in my IKEAdventure©. I’m
still unsure how you go about buying that BJÖRKUDDEN.
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5) The surprises! Every
cabinet was filled with whisks and pretend spices, every kid’s room came
complete with a stuffed bear tea party. I even saw that the bedroom storage
closets (which light up when you open them) had Value Village clothes in them.
I was tempted to buy one of the dresses I saw but, again, couldn’t figure out
how to do so. I guess the IKEA gods do this to make you picture the closet at
you would in your home- filled with crap! There’s something about a pristine
and empty piece of cabinetry that just makes me feel sad, but when it’s filled
with my stuff I feel pure joy.
6) The sausage tasted like the
meatballs. Yes, I ate there for
breakfast and lunch. Both set me back a whopping $10, but now I realize how
they can afford to charge so little: using the same beef/pork/whatever medley
but preparing it in different shapes. Oh IKEA Bistro, you so sneaky.
7) The secrets. We asked the
manager of the lighting department a few Streeter-esque questions, what it was
like to work there, who shops there, etc. He told us that he wasn’t allowed to
answer any of “those kinds of questions”. We then asked him if it was fun
working there and he said “Yes.” mechanically with absolutely no emotion in his
eyes. What are they not telling us? Oh, and apparently every micro-section has its
own manager, which is great for jobs so “Thanks IKEA!”
8) The spelling. WHY IS
EVERYTHING CAPITALIZED IKEA?! ARE YOU SHOUTING AT ME OR DID YOU LEAVE YOUR
KEYBOARD ON CAPS LOCK BY ACCIDENT? Does calling a filing cabinet ERIK make
it sound more exciting and exotic?
This guy wrote a song about it called the IKEA song:
Awesome.
Delightful post. Thanks for breathing some life into it!
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