If there’s one thing that can’t be done, it’s get to IKEA and back in one piece. Whether it’s getting hopelessly lost in suburban Kent, or missing exit after exit on the 405, there’s always an emotional meltdown around the corner. Even with a GPS, which I affectionately called Pascal, it’s incredibly difficult to get right.
That’s not even to mention what goes on inside the store. Don’t get me wrong. I love Swedish furniture as much as the next guy, but IKEA makes it so that you can never leave. They entice you with the dream of inexpensive end tables, lamps that look like deformed snowballs, and delicious meatballs. Unfortunately, if you go on a Saturday at one in the afternoon, you’ll be trampled, separated from your loved ones, and proceed to get hopelessly lost among the maze of couches.
I suppose you could say I was having an IKEA kind of day.
Memes! What the eff, why is this so funny? XDD
ReplyDeleteI love this, this sounds like an excellent beginning to a novel.