I step off the bus in the -18 degree weather and look at the massive bulk of the IKEA at Kungens Kurva. Better get a move on, it is far warmer inside. I have never liked IKEA. I am not much of a “shopper”. I go in, get what I need, and leave. So, it is with a certain twinge that I get on the escalator with the other cattle to being the spiralling journey to the bottom of the IKEA.
I have to immediately resist the urge to take the short cuts to the bottom and the coveted bookcases. I turn to join the general flow of traffic and begin to meander around the store. One of the biggest problems with the so called “showrooms” is that there is just too much to look at. Even when I try to take an interest in the wares on offer it all becomes a blur; I am more interested in not tripping over other shoppers. There are, inevitably, a few items that always catch my eye.
I have to admit, I love these little lights. I know they are for kids but I think they are cute and I like the chromatherapy properties they have.
I am also temporarily distracted by the flowery couches. My partner and I have been talking about getting a new one and I always tease him that I will redecorate the flat in super feminine styles. However, even if I was that devious I could never haul one home by myself so it will have to wait for another day. (As a side note, I really do think this couch is ugly).
Another thing I have never liked about IKEA is, if you actually find something you like in the showrooms, you then have to find it in the basement. It is too much work for generic, largely unattractive furniture. Due to my recent illness I skip past the eatery. I have eaten here before and, though the food puts me right off visually, it does not taste all that bad (I had the carrot cake, as I recall).
Spiralling ever downwards the odd riot of colour catches my eye from time-to-time. I pause at the rag rugs, I would really like on for my office. Maybe if they go on sale. I finally hit bottom and despite my best intentions I find myself cutting through all the “backdoors” to get to the flatpack section. I check the computer consul just after the potted plants to see if the colour I want is in stock this time. Alas, it is not. I wander down the aisle anyway to see if there is a mistake in the system. No silver bookcase for me today. Ah, well. Next time I will bring some muscle and maybe settle for a different colour.