The Ramen of [insert word here]

Husband grew up in Cook County, Minnesota. He spent several summers working in his family's lumber mill, as well as at the local lumber yard. His current career is in the pressure-treated lumber industry. He loves wood.

Which is why he HATES IKEA. How many times have I heard him rant about the cheap quality of the IKEA furniture? I don't know why he gets so upset; you get what you pay for! Apparently I am married to a Wood Snob, and to him Ikea is to furniture like ramen is to noodles: you can't get any lower. (I got the ramen line from a wine connoisseur who was trying to tell me Boone's Farm is the ramen of wines. My response? "But it's the Kick-Ass of Kool-Aid!" ... I digress).

An interesting announcement hidden in the third paragraph: Husband and I have added onto our home. We call it the "spare bedroom," and the big catch is that it is located about 70 miles south of our more rural home. In an effort to be more efficient with my time, accommodate an externship that starts at 8:30 a.m., and manage the winter weather, next semester I will be spending a few nights each week "in town."

So, with Trifecta Terror Week (Monday Paper due, Tuesday Trial, Wednesday Presentation) fast approaching (two weeks), Husband and I ventured to IKEA last Friday to purchase a new bed for the spare bedroom. But I had to work late, so we didn't get to IKEA until 8:30 p.m. It closes at 9 p.m.

Husband, in a predictably wonderful mood, says he wants to puke in Ikea, and then when people come to see if he is alright he is going to say No! Look at all this crappy furniture!

I ignore him, and after a quick bite to eat (I know, but shopping on an empty stomach seemed dangerous), we began our sprint through the store.

I had done my internet research. We quickly found the cheapest bedframe. I vaguely remember taking the mattress test online, and I was matched up with some Swedish H- named mattress, but I couldn't remember what it was. I just knew I needed a firm mattress for my bad back. I figured we would find someone to help us in the mattress area of furniture pick-up land, so we left the showroom and headed to the warehouse.

But nobody helped us. Ten minutes to close and people are running around like the building was on fire. The first clerk I stopped yelled, "I HAVE THREE OTHER PEOPLE WHAT DO YOU NEED!" I said equally calmly, "I JUST NEED HELP!" He rushed on by and directed some wandering clerk in my direction. This dude was in no hurry, spoke limited English, and had the customer service skills of a stapler. He was definitely the ramen of clerks. When I asked him what the most firm mattress IKEA carried was, he defensively yelled (yes there is a lot of yelling at IKEA) "I DON'T KNOW THAT! YOU HAVE TO ASK UPSTAIRS!" And stalked off, muttering "I'm sorry" over and over in a not-very-sorry-tone.

At this point I am on a rampage, declaring my hate for IKEA and it's horrible customer service. Husband is strangely calm. He just looks at me and says,

"Honey, we're at a place where you have to pick up your furniture from a warehouse and then put it together yourself. How good did you think their customer service was going to be? It's not really in their business plan."

Eventually, clerk number one came back. Husband and I were still wandering lost in the mattress section of the warehouse. The clerk used his walkie-talkie to poll the store to see what the "most firm" mattress was. I kept saying, "I think it starts with an H-" but to no avail: we purchased the Flokenes mattress on the recommendation of the clerk who said it was the "most firm mattress they had."

As we were waiting for them to find my mattress in the heart of the warehouse, I looked through a magazine and realize it's firmness is "firm" while other mattresses are "most firm." I freaked out. We have purchased a sub-firm mattress! But it's too late. It's after 9 p.m., we are exhausted, and there is no turning back (I suspect Husband would have driven off and left me there).

To wrap up the story, we get to the Spare Room. I, like Legally Blond, now rent from LandLord. Husband begins putting together the frame, and Legally Blond and LandLord jump right in to help. I stayed out of the way. When it was done, we all collapsed onto my bed. Except the bed is as hard as a rock. It was like laying on a slab of granite. Apparently "most firm" mattresses are simply large-cut diamonds.

Oh well. I drink Boone's Farm, I sleep on IKEA and I like ramen noodles. This is the life I have chosen.


border="0" alt="Hit Counters">

Web Site Hit Counters