IKEA, Here We Come

First of all, it's early on a Saturday morning. I'm not one to get up early for anything but golf, if I don't have to. My fiance' has had an idea stuck in her head for the last few weeks about how we need an end table in our apartment. I am pretty much thinking, but of course not verbalizing, "Go get it then, take your mother along and get it over with." Well, I am slowly learning about women, so I know not to say that thought out loud. Katie then says, "This is a couple thing to do."

I am going to look at this as an adventure. I don't really have a choice, as we are now in the car on HWY 494 heading to IKEA. Katie says, we have to go to IKEA because we are poor and they have cheap furniture that looks great. She also keeps repeating how it is an experience. I'm thinking, it will be ok; it must be like a Wal-Mart. So, we will get the table and get out. We could be back home in an hour or two.

We pull into the parking garage, the size of Jupiter, with IKEA's neighbor stores, The Mall of American off in the distance. This whole place looks huge, and when we get inside, I see escalators, so I know it's not a Wal-Mart. I am getting that uneasy feeling in my stomach. For one, I don't like crowds and I don't like shopping, but I do like my fiance', so on we go. A sign up ahead says, "99 cents for breakfast." Now, that's a deal, maybe this place isn't so bad after all. They have a restaurant, a bistro, and a market. And to think, I just thought we were looking for an end table. I can see how we are going to easily get side tracked especially by the apple cake and coffee special for $2.29. (One thing that my fiance' and I have in common, is that we both love to eat!)

We are off to the living room furniture section when I see a poster that has a clown on it. Children's Events are listed under the picture of the clown. Why, why would anyone bring their kids here? I guess I'm not a parent yet, so I don't get it, but a babysitter is looking pretty good right now. I am witnessing one kid having a complete blowout on the floor. He must be a strong little fellow,  because he isn't budging, almost as if there is cement under his butt. His parents have that look of agony on their faces; I can bet they aren't getting what they came in here for today.

Next, we arrive in a large warehouse setting with shelves everywhere. I'm feeling lost and wanting to get this over with. How will we ever find one little, black, cheap, end table in this abyss? Katie walks right up to a computer and punches in what she needs. Up comes, aisle 7! Section B. Wow, another discovery, this place is like a GPS on the highway. Hey, all stores should copy this. You could walk into Cub Foods and type peanut butter into the computer and within five seconds, you would be out the door with your peanut butter. A map to the  peanut butter, what a great invention.

Finally, we have located our precious piece of furniture, and my fiance' is beaming. I am also beaming, as I know I'll be home soon, watching the Green Bay Packer's football game and putting my beer on our new end table. IKEA, even though, you are Swedish and big, I'll be back. But, did you know their furniture comes unassembled?  Just a warning to all of you guys out there!