September 15, 2008...9:53 am

Talk To Me, Baby

Jump to Comments

I hate Ikea.

Okay, that’s not true. I actually love Ikea. I just hating going to Ikea.

It’s always crowded and I can never find that one specific item that prompted the whole  trip in the first place. Not that there’s ever anyone to ask…

Even if I do find someone that works there, they either…

a) spend 20 minutes on some roundabout explanation that can basically be summed up in seven words: “I don’t know and I don’t care” or…

b) yelled at me in some angry, incoherent “seems-like-English-but-those-aren’t-real-words” variation of what I assume is a British accent.

At least, this was the case when Avery and I went to there last week…

Just when I was thoroughly hating life (and Ikea), Avery started to lose his patience. (Not that I blame him.)

I promised to let him press the buttons on the lift if he would just bear with me while I looked for just… one… last… thing…

Unconvinced, he headed straight for the doors. (Smart kid)

He reached for the “1” button when I explained to him that the first floor is called the ground floor here and the second floor is actually the first, and blah, blah-blah, blah blah until the doors opened once again.

As we got stepped off the lift, a man riding with us approached me and clumsily asked,“Are you… Um, did I hear… Uh, is that an American accent I detect?

“Yeah, we just moved here from the States,” I replied as a feeble half-apology for talking too much/blocking his way/suggesting that the ground floor could be anything but…

“Oh, thought so,” he replied, “I just love the American accent. It’s so… SEXY” (!!!)

Ummm, I think I like Ikea a little bit more now.

Well, except for those stupid arrows… always telling you where to go, but never taking you where you want to be. Stupid arrows!

5 Comments


Leave a Reply