The weekend is here. A time to relax, a time to have a break from the daily slog, a time to turn off the morning alarm. What to do? Maybe a full English breakfast, a nice lunch out, a nice dinner in, a trip to the cinema, a visit with friends and family? Yes, on Saturday morning the possibilities seem endless. Ah, the weekend.
Then the words start to form on the lips of your loved one, the words that you knew were coming, the words that fill you with dread. Let’s go to Ikea.
You want to scream “no, it’s not fair!” You want to roll around the floor shouting and stamping your feet. The problem is that you can’t. You are an adult, doing adult things like washing, cleaning and making sure your house has enough storage and places to sit. I truly hate Ikea. Here are my top 6 reasons why…
1 of 6) Nameless art of places I have never been. It’s an odd thing really. I have never been to the beach that is hanging on my living room wall. To be honest, the only photos on my walls that are of places I have been are the place me and the wife said our we do’s and the studio where the photographer took the pictures of my son. I never took the pictures of the flowers in the kitchen, the sunset on the living room wall or any other ‘art’ (used in the loosest possible sense) in my home. Go take a look in Ikea (or next, tesco, asda or any non art art seller) and you will find fields, cityscapes, blue oceans and flowers. Why can’t we just leave the walls blank. Even better, get the star wars poster back off my mate and put that up. At least it’s of something I like. But that’s the point, you notice it. Ikea art is there to add colour and be ignored. Top marks guys. Job well done (please include sarcastic tone when reading last 2 comments. Thanks)
2 of 6) Flat pack and instructions. This really is the worst. Great big lumps of MDF coated to look like pine or oak. Little packets of screws, nails and nameless twisty things. Instructions in 12 different languages that are overly complicated. A list of tools you will need that is never enough and finally, when you think you are done, when you stand back and look (arms folded in a manly way) you step on the packet of screws or nails or nameless twisty things you didn’t use and wonder a) how important are they and b) how long until it falls down! The worst part though is that you actually need the instructions. That’s not very manly at all.
3 of 6) Hot dogs. Either: Oooooo look, a 45p hot dog. Let’s get one. I would rather keep my 45p and my 25 minutes Queuing time thank you very much. Or: let’s go to ikea and we can have a hotdog at the end. (deep breath) Let’s not and have pint in the pub as we don’t have enough chairs here which is why you want to go and so if we go to the pub we don’t need chairs. And inhale.
4 of 6) Many boxes for one thing. My friend has just had a little girl, well his other half did but anyway this meant 2 things. Number one: he had to get more storage. Number 2: he had to go to ikea. He was smart though, he got it delivered. Or was he? No, it appears not. He got his delivery of many boxes and quickly realised that he had 5 out of 7 boxes for his tv unit, 4 out of 9 boxes for the wardrobe and 3 out of 5 for the table. This just goes to show that even the people who work at ikea can’t find all the boxes. What hope do I have? I have 2 degrees (my wife has the same) and we can’t figure it out. Maybe I need to be Swedish?
5 0f 6) My house is full of it. Yes, yes it is. I hate myself right now. Don’t look at me.
6 of 6) oops, the item you are looking for is out of stock.
So ikea, your customer service sucks, your food is paler than it should be, your systems are overly complicated, you have a one way system that needs a sat nav, your furniture comes in millions of unnecessary boxes, the wood items you sell contain as much real wood as your hotdogs do real meat, you make me depressed and you ruin my weekends. But, you are cheap and have a clever catalogue that shows what my house could look like (if I cleaned and didn’t have a child). So for now you win. I hope you’re proud of yourself. (insert sarcasm again, cheers)