Disease of Ikea
Published by on September 2nd, 2005
I reckon that’s where I got it. An unpleasant tickle in my throat around 24 hours after a most unpleasant bank-holiday Sunday visit to Ikea, followed by three days of burning throat pain, pressured sinus pain and empty-wallet pain.
I like what Ikea does for me. I like how much I have to pay for what I get. I like their foam mattresses (boy do I like them!). But I hate the shopping experience there.
It reminds me of an old fairground ride I became obsessed with when I was a child in Porthcawl. A small boat would meander its way along a water filled, concrete channel - keep your fingers inside the boat - passing numerous, partially operational animatronics of… well… stuff. Now I come to think of it, I really cannot remember what was actually there. I loved this ride. I loved it because it was the cheapest in the fairground and I could get more rides for my pocket money than anywhere else.
Ikea should add that extra level of entertainment. Boating water channels may perhaps be logistically tricky, but a mining theme might just work. Imagine arriving at the entrance and stepping in to a 19th century mining truck and spending the next hour or six trundling cheerfully - I am assuming a mining truck no longer working in the mines would indeed be cheerful - along clunky railroad tracks around the store, with multi-language audio presentations about the various products.
Sub stations would be required of course, just in case one wished to plan out ones kitchen or sample the dining area.
Just imagine. No more stepping on uncontrolled toddlers, no more trying to sidestep the multitude of Ikea-hazed zombies, and with the simple addition of a clear plastic hood, much less chance of mutant Ikea germ inhalation.
You see? There is a utopia.
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