We set off for home. Or did we?
Today, we went out to buy a drop leaf table and chairs for our kitchen.
We set off for Ikea in Leeds. Nowhere is close to us. We always have at least an hours drive. Leeds may even be further. I don’t drive, and have a tendency to get in a car and arrive at the destination without taking any notice of how we got there, or how long it took.
Nothing spectacular happened during our search for what we wanted and we soon found a suitable table and chairs.
For those of you who don’t know ‘Ikea’ shops, they are self service. You take a little form around with you, and when you find what you are looking for you fill in the details, along with the row and item numbers. You then proceed to the check out area, where rows and rows of boxes of varying sizes fill the shelves. You make your way the the row you need and then check for the item number.
Mo and I found our smaller items and went in search of the last thing. Hmmm….. a large box sat looking at us – smirking. “You hold the trolley and I’ll get the box” Mo said. She grabbed hold of it and lifted. Nothing happened. She lifted again, using more effort this time. Still nothing happened. The box smirked at us again. The only way we were going to get this box was by sliding the thing off the shelf and onto the trolley. I held on to the trolley and pushed my body hard against it, in order for it not to whiz across the floor with the weight of the box landing on it. It worked. We smugly made our way to the check out.
We paid and left the shop. Great, we said, there were plenty of strong men, waiting with their trolleys, someone would lift the box into our car for us.
Mo went to get the car, and I stayed with the ladened down trolley, watching all the strong young men leaving, one at a time. When Mo got back, I stood alone with my trolley and the box, in an empty forecourt!
We managed to find a store worker and he came and helped us – Men are built for heavy boxes aren’t they? Anyway, with the box seated, or should I say firmly wedged, in the back of the car, the other bits in the boot, we set off home. Or did we?
We immediately found ourselves on a large roundabout, lined with hundreds of bollards and no sign posts. “Oh bollards” Mo said (poetic license) “Which turnoff should I take” “I don’t know” said I. “Go round agai….” Too late, she had turned off.
Nothing seemed familiar – nothing was familiar! We drove….. and we drove….. and….. we had no idea where we were. “I need petrol now” Mo said “I’m nearly empty” We filled up…. and we drove….. and……
We finally ended up in Manchester. We had taken a very long and scenic route though. From there we made our way home, arriving a good two hours later than we should have, tired, thirsty and having to face the dreaded box.
“How are we going to do this” Mo said, looking at the firmly wedged, and still smirking, box. “We will have to open the box inside the car and remove the contents a bit at a time” said I – I’m too clever! Have you ever tried to open a huge box, and remove all the contents whilst it was wedged behind the front seats of a small car? The neighbours must have thought “Those daft Southerners are at it again”
Once empty, we pulled the box, which was now in pieces, out and took great delight in jumping up and down on it, squashing it flat and stuffing it in the boot of the car, grinning all the while! Who got the last smirk?
We now have the pieces of a large wooden puzzle, piled up and waiting for us to assemble it. That has to be another post.
Stumble it!
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Drowsey Monkey | 13 July 2008 at 2:09
Oh Ikea. I never go there alone, I find there are too many rules, lol. My niece takes me, like I’m her “special” aunt who needs to be accompanied everywhere she goes. Plus, when you leave you have pieces of furniture, not real furniture! Ugh!
LOL – I admire you tho! Good luck!
Jay | 13 July 2008 at 9:42
I have a great antipathy to Ikea. I don’t go there, though I’ve heard their meatballs are to die for. LOL!
It sounds horrendous. Brilliant idea to empty the box in situ, though! Good luck in fitting the thing together! I’m guessing that was the table? I hope it’s worth it!
Kathy | 13 July 2008 at 10:54
I have gotten lost way worse than that. Glad you made it home and conquered the dreaded smirking box! Victory was yours! So who has the lucky job of assembling it? Or will it be a joint effort?
Babs (Beetle) | 13 July 2008 at 13:02
Drowsey: Yes, most places are like that now, unless you pay a fortune.
Jay: Oh, yes The meatballs! I forgot about those ;O)
Kathy: Most definitely a joint job! Mo has the brute force needed and I have the patience and eye for small details ;O)
Liudmila | 13 July 2008 at 18:54
LadyBanana | 13 July 2008 at 20:39
I went to Ikea as well today, after the Animal Home, only bought some plates and small stuff though!
Good luck with your assembly!
Babs (Beetle) | 13 July 2008 at 21:02
Liudmila: Yes we usually use a Navigator system but it has broken. A new one is definitely on the cards :O)
Ladybanana: Some nice stuff at Ikea and the table is all done. Post coming up ;O)
Olga, the Traveling Bra | 14 July 2008 at 0:38
OK…I love love love your voice!
And now I am addicted to Voki too! Thanks Drowsey…
Swubird | 14 July 2008 at 14:58
Babs:
Great story.
We’ve been to Ikea man times over the last three years. When our daughter went off to graduate school in Washington DC, we flew back there to help her set up an apartment. Of course, we completely furnished her place with Ikea (build it yourself) furniture. The only problem was we only had a short time to get it all done – buy, transport to the apartment, and put it together. I did the whole thing in one day. My wrists hurt for a month afterwards. The things we do for our kids.
Nice post.
Happy trails.
Babs (Beetle) | 15 July 2008 at 23:20
Olga: Thank you ;O) I went to listen to yours again, and it’s gone!
Swubird: Yes, too many items to put together and the joints do suffer!
ByJane | 17 July 2008 at 0:46
If Ikea had been in England when I lived there, I might never have left. But then we did have Habitat, which was sort of the forerunner of Ikea, wasn’t it.