Subterranean Beefworks

commerce! commerce! commerce!

Holy shit IKEA.

Last night I had my first experience with the best store in any economy ever, Ikea. Within the realms of the gigantic Swede-colored building, one sees the culmination millions of years of evolution, condenced into one simple expression of how well we, as humans, know ourselves.

Among the first things you see as you cross the threshold is comfort; comfort in the environment--the colors, the scents, the pictures; comfort in the people--hands-off employees, enough space for other consumers to keep out of your way; comfort in spending money--your wallet seems to open as though it were a cat in heat, opening its legs to procreate. I've never felt so willing to be swept about by the currents of advertising and money-making; instead of getting pissed off like I often do in malls, I drank in the price tags and maps, and the big friendly arrows leading me around the store. If any other store put arrows on the floor to lead me around, I would immediately walk in the other direction just to piss them off, to show them that their silly ideas insult my intelligence and I can do my own shopping thank you very much. Ikea is different. I honestly felt that a group of intelligent people had put a lot of thinking into making my life easier. I respect Ikea, because to all appearances, they seem to respect the consumer.

First we explored the second floor, the model rooms assembled with such style and chic that I decided right then that I would be doing all of my furnishings shopping there, hands down. Get this: they put this beautiful looking room together, everything is labeled with an easily-located price tag complete with aisle and bin number so you know exactly where to pick up your item, and somewhere outside the room they put the total amount of money for everything in that room. Extremely reasonable amounts of money for furnishings put together in an ensemble that normal mortals would never be able to assemble on their own.

In Ikea, you feel a palpable truth in the air: They are trying to make money on you. Everything is geared towards selling you as much stuff as possible, and making sure you'll come back for more as soon as you feel the slightest lacking in your living space. How is this different from other big stores? The lack of malicious intent. Boscov's wants to bend you over and pound you in the ass until your wallet falls out. A mall doesn't even have the courtesy to bend you over, it just plunges in, takes all your money, and doesn't even leave you feeling full. Ikea, the other hand, offers you a nice comfortable couch and lets you, in your own time, drape yourself over the arm. Then it proceeds to have gentle, fulfilling buttsex with you and sends you on your way, smiling for having had such a good time.

I bought two things there. My lamp broke, so I bought a new lamp. And then I saw a really nice rug for really cheap and bought that too. I went home with my stuff so happy and excited. I was looking forward to some assembly of my lamp, but NO. It comes completely assembled except for the base. But even so, it gives you an expertly designed little instruction book (picture below.)

It's the perfect store. They do everything right. They truly understand that people will spend their money if they get good products, at good prices, and get to shop in beautiful comfortable surroundings. Ikea, I salute you.

The "Jelken." Dimming knob for mood setting, both lamps adjustable for height and orientation. Functional. Sexy.

All the dude ever wanted was his rug back.

"What do I do?? This sUx0rz! I'll call Ikea. Ahhhh, yes. That's what I do."

Posted by Alchemae at November 13, 2004 07:11 PM