Lessons at Ikea

It started innocently enough: Todd and I thought we would just take a little jaunt to Ikea to get the dresser we wanted. We were there last weekend, but it was out of stock (we were also there the weekend before, because we are crazy). So we've been checking online and it looked like it was back on the shelves. I was prepared to spend an afternoon putting the thing together. We were willing to brave Labor Day and college-student crowds. We brought energy bars, in case things got dire. And so our journey began.

We knew we were in for a treat when we had to wait in line to even get into the parking structure. Luckily, the line of cars moved fast, and once inside, we knew exactly where we were going to get our loot. We bought the dresser quickly, and then proceeded to look around for some odds and ends. This went smoothly as well. The first hint that we might be in for trouble in the crazy Ikea crowd was when a woman on a cell phone tried to cut in line in front of us. We fought her back and she grumbled into her cell phone about it. She never did hang that thing up. And then we were ready to load our burden and mosey back to the FunkHouse.

Or so we thought. The parking lot was insane. You could feel the frantic energy as people zipped through the aisles, either looking for a spot or looking for a way out. You could almost see smoke coming out of people's ears and drool glazing the corners of their mouths. Perhaps there were even a few faces frozen in silent screams.

As we wound our way around the parking lot, we were having trouble finding a way to exit. As we started to go down one aisle, we realized we were going to wrong way, and Todd, who was driving, turned our car around. This apparently pissed off a jerk driving a giant red truck. You've seen this truck before: Extended cab. Body raised off the wheels in an attempt to make it more imposing. Freshly washed, as if to say: "That's right! I waste gas and water! Global Warming saves me money on heating costs!" As this guy (to whom I will henceforth refer as Binky, in an effort to diminish his false hypermasculinity) sped around us and cut us off, Todd honked. I guess this sent Binky over the edge. He stopped his truck, blocking our path. Then he got out and came up to our window (which, unfortunately, was rolled down) and began to yell. And yell. Apparently, we are Morons Who Don't Know How to Drive! And turning around in a parking lot is illegal! Good thing he was there to teach us.

Then, having said his piece, Binky stormed back to his Environmental Destroyer. Where his 2 small children were waiting. I guess Binky taught them a lesson too.