1. No clocks with the correct time.
2. You’re kept away from the windows, so the sun can’t clue you in to the actual time.
3. Decent food bargains, so hey, don’t have to leave in order to get dinner!
4. You feel compelled to keep to a path that exposes you to the maximum of things to purchase, or contemplate purchasing.
This was not my first time in Ikea, of course; my first Ikea experience was in King of Prussia, Pennsylvania, when it was something like only the second Ikea in the United States. But being there with Miss “When Are We Going to Buy MY Things?” and Mister “I am not invested in this trip at all, therefore I will act bananas and attempt to run over people with my shopping cart” gave me a whole new level of understanding.
We went to try to find some furniture for Miss M’s room and our living/dining area. There was a buffet that we actually liked, some mediocre sofas, a possible wardrobe “solution” for her, and a lot of aggravation. It felt pretty mobbed for a Monday (!) evening–I would hate to be there a) on a Friday b) on a Thursday night (when it’s open until midnight) c) during a sale d) during any kind of vacation period.
Some day when we’re more put together as a household I want to hack this drafting table for her. Maybe.
Ikea being Ikea, we wound up with $100 worth of random household goods: drawer storage, hangers, dinner napkins, frying pans. And all the mini pencils we could carry. To make up for the fact that we still don’t have a 3-seater sofa, enough furniture for Miss M’s room, or the light sconces we wanted (sold out).
Somehow we were tricked into thinking we made progress and enjoyed ourselves. Ikea = Las Vegas. The End.