I know people who love Ikea. I don’t get it. The store is an endless warehouse with staff organization that makes no sense, the merchandise is adequate for the price but not really good quality, and it takes an insane amount of time to buy what you came for.
We needed a new faucet for our sink. The only one we could find that worked with the sink was at–you guessed it–Ikea. Possibly because that’s where the sink came from.
So off to Ikea we went. First of all, it’s in the incredibly soulless “revitalized” part of Burbank. And then you can only get into the parking lot from one direction, which may ease traffic flow on the street in front of Ikea, but really doesn’t make it easy to park.
We found the faucet pretty quickly, in one of the displays. The tag said we needed to go to the Bedroom section. After winding our way through Living Rooms, Workspaces, and other similarly named areas, we got to the Bedroom section. This may sound vaguely pastoral, but that’s only because it doesn’t address the throngs of people drifting slowly and aimlessly around the store. (At least that’s what it seems like every time I go; maybe I just haven’t hit the magic “Ikea Pace.”)
Generally, when you go to Ikea, there are two ways to get your merchandise. You pick it up yourself in the showroom, or you go downstairs to the warehouse and pick it up there. Well, not if you want a faucet. In that case, you stand in line to have a sales rep put the order into the computer and hand you a piece of paper. Then you take the piece of paper through the rest of the store, go downstairs, and wind through all of the dishes and glasses and candles until you reach the warehouse, which is not any help to you because that’s not where your faucet is.
Finally, you reach a register and pay for everything. There, the clerk tells you to take the piece of paper and your receipt to the far end of the building so that someone there can give you your faucet.
Fifteen minutes later, you have a faucet. Why does it take the person at Will Call, or whatever it’s called, 15 minutes to find a faucet, when the order went into the computer an hour earlier?
No idea. A faucet, six plates, and a jar. Total time in the store? An hour and a half. Life’s too short.
I love IKEA, but mostly because I wish there had been IKEAs when I was in college and grad school. Now that my house is furnished, there’s much less need to go. Still, I find it alluring. Is it the insanely inexpensive meatball dishes? Is it the cheap (but delicious) ground coffee? Frankly, I think it’s just because it feels a little more European than most ordinary places to shop. One thing I love is that IKEA not only accepts the fact that people may shop with children, but actually helps out with playspaces, child-friendly menu, and even sinks in the restrooms that kids can use without Mom having to break her back to lift the kid up to proper height.
That said—never, never go to IKEA on a Saturday. Hell on earth.