Hell on Earth (original post 6.24.06)

So I did it. I didn't think I could bring myself to go, but I did. I actually went into the new Ikea in Canton. For those of you who aren't familiar with this Swedish phenomenon, Ikea is a gigantic home furnishings store with extremely reasonably priced items which, up until now, was only as close as Illinois and Pennsylvania.

Now for those of you who know me, know that I hate crowds of people and disorganization. But I love cheap shit.

I need some patio furniture, so I went to World Market and they didn't have what I needed. So I thought, "I'll just pop into Ikea and see what they've got." Well let me tell you there was no popping-in about it. First of all, I parked in the back of the damn lot and had to walk about 10 minutes to get to the door. But, no big deal, right? I need the exercise anyways. Then I get inside and I can feel the look on my face change to a deer-in-headlights expression.

I go up an escalator only to find an enormous open space with furniture EVERYWHERE. I'm no dummy, you know? I can navigate the Internet and program a cell phone without looking at any manual, so I figure I can find my own way around a home furnishings store. So I start. I quickly realize that I feel like a fish swimming upstream. Everyone is walking the opposite way that I'm walking. Is it a coincidence? I look under my feet and I see an arrow pointing at me. For a moment I thought it was alerting other customers of an Ikea virgin, but then I see that people are following these arrows.

So like a good cow, I go with the herd and even thought I heard someone 'moo' a few people behind me I kept walking. Okay, just find someone who works here and they'll get you to where you need to be. I find a younger good-looking guy and ask him where the patio furniture is. "We don't have any in yet." What? "But you can get some wicker furniture and stick that outside." I hate wicker. I thank him and decide that it's time to get out of there.

Okay, exit signs...exit signs. If I were an exit sign, where would I be? I start getting the idea that maybe that's how they make their money by just trapping people inside and you just keep buying things because you're stuck in there and bored. I'm getting a little bit anxious because I can't find any hint of an exit so I ask another salesperson and she tells me, "Just keep following the arrows." Damnit.

I'm following the arrows and they're not getting me anywhere! I'm still running around, dodging between carts and kids and couples holding hands (puke!) thinking that if I just get around this corner, there will be an exit. Oooh! Another corner. This has to be the last one! DAMNIT! More arrows! I'm feeling like I'm in a rat maze. Where's the cheese? Where's the damn cheese?!

At this point I'm trying to madly escape. If I was a person who had panic attacks, you could guarantee they would have pulled me out of Swedish Hell on a stretcher. So I'm still running around, faster now, getting my elbow or hip occasionally caught on a display or another person. No matter; a bruise or even a bleeding open wound is a small price to get out of this place.

I finally find the exit and even then it's about 50 yards to the sunshine and safety of the world outside Ikea. I escaped with my life, and that's all I care about. As for the patio furniture, I'm shopping online.